Sometimes Dave texts me about the stupid bumper stickers he sees on his way to school. This morning he sent me the old religious standard, “Drive no faster than your guardian angel can fly.”
But like, isn’t it kind of God’s fault if my guardian angel can’t keep up with me, since the dude’s supposedly my co-pilot? And not even a very good one at that – where was he the other day when I caught myself doing 90 in a 65 zone? And also, why is God my co-pilot in this scenario? I feel like an entity with the ability to build planets and light shrubbery on fire with his thoughts would probably be more suited to the captain’s chair than a person who spends her free time watching “Here Comes Honey Boo Boo” while covered in Cheez-It dust, but whatever.
I’m not sure I’m the target audience for that bumper sticker.
I am sure that I am the target audience for this one:
I guess technically that statement isn’t true, since clearly SOMEBODY cares enough about stick figure families to make those dumb decals in the first place.
To sum up: GET IT TOGETHER, BUMPER STICKER MANUFACTURERS OF AMERICA.