All of It

Like all of our poking of fun at tailgate madness, you just can't make this stuff up. Leave it to the driver of a Bimmer to assume the identity of the greatest city on God's green earth.

Given such a voice, what would the 8.3 million residents of Gotham say about this? Okay, perhaps much of it isn't exactly fit to print. Suffice it to say that you could predict the abrasive New York attitude: these are a people who were known as driven and tough even before 2001.

Or perhaps this commuter is claiming to represent all of the Empire State? With such a varied land mass and population you get the gist of where we're going. And so we put this driver on notice: take it down a few notches. You might claim a zip code but even that is unlikely.

Illustrious

Were you also completely unaware that Westies have reached such a level of prominence? Somone call Cindi Lauper: we smell a new hit here. Girls may have fun but these diminutive and overly needy canines simply have more of it.

And, if that weren't revelation enough, this mere animal's fame rivals both peace AND love. Maybe it's just us, but perhaps John Lennon overlooked such a beast during his introspective quest to reach nirvana?

Alas, we must take issue with this commuter's most deeply held beliefs, or at least those being assumed in their drug-induced, semi-conscious state. Westies are not having fun or changing the world, they are simply shedding all over it.

Elderly Fam

Of course we're not passing judgment on such people that put embarrassing statements on their vehicle. Where would this blog be but for inflated egos and naked vanity? Some people just don't age as gracefully or maintain their appearance as well as their peers. For every Tom Selleck there is bound to be at least 15 Al Pacinos.

Don't think so? Simply reverse the genders then. How many Meg Ryans do you think there are for every Jane Seymour? And just remember: plastic surgeons aren't on trial here.

Perhaps these people are just more comfortable in their own skin. After all, eyeglasses chains, hair sticks in the bun and Charlie Brown's sweater with a bowtie are really pushing the 65 and "lovin' it" envelope.

Sunbleached

What happens to stickers that you slap on your ride after spending your hard-earned cash? Besides communicating some completely random aspect of who you are (or perhaps were), they simply bake in the penetrating sun. If you are apparently very fortunate, your stickers will one day be the same color as your ride.

Ruined? Worthless? Even if you could somehow pressure blast them off, you'd be crazy to. After all, eventually they will be retro and even look the part.

At that point, why not simply plaster the entire vehicle with fairly unrelated mementos of bygone days? The application does give it a certain something; what that is, we won't say.

Self-Disrespect

We really do try to stay away from passing judgement on people's self image. Most of the hooligans we deal with on this blog are relatively brazen with over-inflated egos to the point where they inflict some representation of themselves on utter strangers, much like the party fouls on social media.

Occasionally, as happens on those social media, you run across open self-loathing and simply cannot look away. Like the portrait buyer on Seinfeld who views Kramer's image, it disgusts us.

A point of clarification: this commuter doesn't purport complete worthlessness. No, instead they claim a value of one penny. As long as they stay in the US, they are worth something. However, if they travel to the UK or EU, it's a decidedly different story.