An old car air freshener and an expired LAVC parking pass.
A SeaDoo engine tether.
My friend’s wife still has those roach clips with the feathers on them hanging from her mirror. I guess she thinks they goes well with the 1988 Mercury Couger.
Mega: Oh, so I’m a liar, am I?
Ever been to Utah? Ra-di-a-tion. Yes, indeed. You hear the most outrageous lies about it. Half-baked goggle-box do-gooders telling everybody it’s bad for you. Pernicious nonsense! Everybody could stand a hundred chest X-rays a year. They ought to have them, too. When they cancelled the project it almost did me in. One day my mind was full to bursting. The next day - nothing. Swept away. But I’ll show them. I had a lobotomy in the end. Friend of mine had one, too. Designer of the neutron bomb. You ever hear of the neutron bomb? Destroys people - leaves buildings standing. Fits in a suitcase. It’s so small, no one knows it’s there until - BLAMMO! Eyes melt, skin explodes, everybody dead! So immoral, working on the thing can drive you mad. That’s what happened to this friend of mine. So he had a lobotomy. Now he’s well again.
Pine-scented is definitely out, Ike.
A little clay pot with vanilla oil in it. In the summer it gets warm and releases the scent. What can I say, I’m a chick?
Koffing and SwimmingRiddles I had a disco ball hanging from mine also and they do look pretty cool when the sun hits them just right. A friend was playing with it one day, twisting it so that it would turn around and send the reflections all over the car, and she broke it darnit. I need to find a new one now.
A yellow foot that smells like vanilla. =)
Fuzzy dice. Within a week of obtaining The People’s Taurus, I had gotten fuzzy dice to hang from the mirror. Way I see it, no sense doin’ something 'less you’re gonna do it right.
Well, the IKE doesn’t have a rear-view mirror.
But we do have a nifty national ensign hanging from the yardarm!
In college I got a leather motorcycle jacket and I painted Calvin & Hobbes on the back (in their devious grin mode). i wore that jacket for years. My wife gave me a little leather jacket on a key chain that she painted just like my jacket. It has hung in two of my cars so far.
I now wear a Lands End Squall jacket because I own a house and have a kid and I’m not 20 anymore. sigh
I have a clay star with lavendar (to make my son sleepy on car trips) in it hanging from the “oh shit!” bar on the passenger rear door. (My car’s rearview mirror attaches to the ceiling, making it difficult to hang anything from there.) The lavendar works better than Benedryl. 
My last car, actually a station wagon, had wooden beads hanging from the rearview mirror before the mirror fell off. I reglued it 3 times before I gave up. Didn’t need it anyway. A station wagon is a terrarium on wheels.
I have had a lock of my own hair, and a Studebaker hood ornament (looks like a yin-yang!) hanging, but now I only have a Substitute Teacher parking permit. It goes well with the minivan…
Sweet Basil
I have had a lock of my own hair, and a Studebaker hood ornament (looks like a yin-yang!) hanging, but now I only have a Substitute Teacher parking permit. It goes well with the minivan…
Sweet Basil
I have had a lock of my own hair, and a Studebaker hood ornament (looks like a yin-yang!) hanging, but now I only have a Substitute Teacher parking permit. It goes well with the minivan…
Sweet Basil
CRAP!
Why do I do that!!?
sorry y’all…
(slinks away self-loathingly)
Sweet Basil
I have my tassel from when I graduated from high school, and a red and white key leash that says “Nassau Community College” hanging from my rearview mirror. Am I the only person left who has their tassel hanging from their rearview? All of my friends took theirs down. I guess it was only a thrill the first 6 months after we’d graduated.
Count me in as another doper with the fuzzy dice. When I bought the new car, it was given to me as a good luck charm, and who am I to thumb my nose at the Powers-that-be?
Plus, it’s useful because every time my father borrows my car I get to listen to his speech about how one day he’s going to throw those away. Then I get to launch a passionate speech in defense of fuzzy dice, the last great American tradition.
Egads! What kind of a narcasist are you??
me? I have these little hands connected together by a long plastic wire thing that smells like vanilla, it wraps around the back and the hands come around and hug the rearview.
An annoying big old yellow parking pass. I get into arguments with my half-blind parking lot guy at least once a week over whether or not I am a monthly parker, as I keep the thing on the mirror upside down, tucked part way into the roof upholstery, and he can’t see it. It’s just too darn distracting having it hang there when I drive, and I never remember to hang it back up if I take it off. If it isn’t there during the day, they may tow my car, so upside down it is.
I used to have Mardi Gras beads from Fishbone’s; prior to that, it was my daughter’s first running shoes. She is now 12 and asked me to remove them before she died of embarassment.
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A paper VFW poppy from at least two years ago.
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Monthly parking tag for the train station. The train station parking lot is also the police station parking lot, so you REALLY don’t want to be caught with your parking unpaid!
Totally off-topic rant (the lights of Havana are reflecting in the windshield): there’s no sign advertising that monthly parking tags are available, so I found out the village sells them only when I went into the police station to clear up a $35(!!!) ticket for not paying the $1 daily parking fee – which I actually HAD paid that day. Only train station I know of that uses a slot box (read: where you have no way of objectively proving you paid the fee) AND hits you with a ticket straight away! But since most of the people using the lot are non-residents (myself included), the village at best doesn’t give a damn and at worst tickets non-residents in iffy cases because most will pay the fine without challenge and the money isn’t coming from village residents (read: voters). As you might be able to guess, the village also has a reputation as a “speed trap”.