So I’m on the freeway in Orange County (“Behind the Orange Curtain”, “Reagan Country”) when a fellow American apparently took umbrage at my innocent little bumper sticker (“BUCK FUSH”). He came up beside me in his gold late-model Mustang convertible and vehemently extended his middle finger at me, all the while apparently yelling obscenities (which I couldn’t hear, as both of our windows were closed).
I blew him a kiss. (Yeah, I know that’s a weird thing for a straight guy to do; but I didn’t have a “TRY DECAFF” sign handy and it seemed like the best I could do.)
What a shame. Here, I try to spread a little amusment; and this poor chap will be angry all day.
Yup. The Cherokee. Why would an anti-Bush sticker be confusing? The majority of Americans didn’t vote for him!
And no, I’m not an idiot for using my vehicle as a political billboard. I’m a provocateur!
Funny you should mention that. Just yesterday I was thinking of a Calvin peeing on a bush, and was wondering if people would identify a bush.
Blunt: You could be right. Maybe he had a bad experience with a pilot once and was offended by my helicopter sticker, “FAA Licenced Pilot” license plate frame, and AOPA wings.
Ukulele Ike: It wasn’t that cute.
Toddly: Indeed. There are very few things that I take seriously.
I’m from Orange County and I would have laughed my butt off. In fact, now I want a Buck Fush sticker for my car! And a Chuck Feney sticker for my mountain bike.
Hmm, if I put a Buck Fush sticker on the back of a BMW, would the Irony God’s head explode?