Right Outta Left Field: Bumper Stickers

Well, I've lived to tell, people. Yes, indeedy. I'm officially on a four-day weekend after struggling through another week of work sick off (on, rather) my ass.

But the important thing is that I'm enjoying work, and that the job, which historically has been very hard on my neck, shoulders, and back, hasn't bothered me at all. Methinks my recent taking to "boxing" with free weights might be finally giving me the kind of upper-body support I've long been lacking since my series of whiplashes and concussions in my 20s. HMM. (FOUR concussions. THREE whiplashes. Beat that, you pansies!)

Anyhow, I'm as happy as all get-out. Yay me.

***

I just wanted to pop in, though, and speak for a moment about bumperstickers. I've been pondering them all night. I have bumper stickers like you wouldn't believe. There's the notorious "Evolve" fish under my scooter's headlamp. There's the one on the right side that reads "The last time we mixed politics with religion, people were burned at the stake". There's the "trailer park trash" one that makes up for my long-missed "Lemme show ya how we do it in the trailer park" I used to have on my hatchback (RIP).

Then there's my trusty iBOOK, which is completely covered in stickers like "Fuck censorship", "I am a fucking genius", "Satan works for ME now", and the "Rocket condoms -- 5 cents!" I just love to death.

See, it's all about just having a voice in any little small way, isn't it? Plus, anyone sees my laptop in a cafe window as I'm typing, I invariably get chuckles and thumbs-ups.

Trouble is, sometimes my stickers inspire other people to think I give a fuck what they have to say, which is sometimes true, but oftentimes, no. Like, the guy who decided a stoplight was the right time to engage me in a conversation (which happens all the time when you ride a scooter or motorbike, I gather) of semantics. He points to the "the last time we mixed politics and religion..." sticker and says, "In what context?"

"What it says," I responded tartly and sped off under the now-green light. I can smell a religious conservative like a fart in the car, my friends. I mean, really, ANY time you mix religious and politics, things tend to get a little ass-backwards on the personal freedoms front, and even still you find people dying for their beliefs -- which apparently is all saint-like if you're dying FOR a religion, but if you're dying for your plain-ol' size-regular freedoms, then you're apparently morally bankrupt.

Like the folks who get executed in Iran for having "gay" sex. ("Sodomy" isn't a word I like; Sodom was a city of amorality in the Bible, so let's stop using words that pass judgment on behaviours, shall we?)

On the upside, I did, however, have an uplifting chat with a very cute man earlier today who just loved the Evolve Fish and had to share. (Pity about the wedding ring.)

For the most part, I get thumbs-ups and accolades on the "burned at the stake" sticker. Every now and then a religious zealot lets me hear a few words, but it's worth it when some guy in a Jaguar says he's never liked bumperstickers but mine's the first he'd ever proudly put on his stank-ass rich car.

Hey, freedom of speech ain't just for bloggers, right? It's for scooters, too.

Anyhow, no fucking clue why I started this post but I know why I'm ending it. Girl's gotta eat and then it's back to "girl night Thursdays" with the return of Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy. I can see the tampon and yeast infection commercials already. (When will someone tell the marketers that we women spend money on things other than makeup, haircare, and tampons? Sigh.)