Things Are Getting Out of Californtrol! Naked Twi’lek Jambaroo!

You might be wondering how I’m going to work naked twi’leks into this, and the truth is that I’m not. If you’re reading this because you Googled ‘naked twi’lek’ then you, sir or ma’am, fell for my ruse! If you’re wondering what a twi’lek is, you’re probably just as well off not knowing, but I’m going to tell you. Twi’leks are these things from Star Wars:

I thought that if I advertised that I was including some divested twi’lek action, my blog would start getting that coveted nerdvert traffic. When nerdy perverts start reading your blog, you win the internet (I assume). My only regret with this ruse is disappointing the poor saps that got here by Googling ‘jambaroo’, because Lord knows Google already condescendingly asked if they meant jamboree, and they were probably delighted to defy Google when they saw this one result for ‘jambaroo’, to see that they were not alone in thinking jambaroo was an acceptable spelling or that word. It isn’t, you poor bastards, I made it up because it is such a funny word. You’re living in a fantasy world, jambarooers.

Any who, now that I’ve got my stats up for the week, I can start talking about how things are spiraling out of Californtrol. Obviously, one could fill a warehouse full of books about how and why California is borderline too nutty for its own good (not a warehouse full of different books, mind you, that would be too many, I mean you could write one book and it would probably be popular enough that you would need to print a lot of copies. Say, a warehouse full.) and I don’t feel like writing that much in this sitting, so I’m just going to address the issue immediately in front of my super insightful face: vanity license plates.

First, let it be known that I love California. I spent the first 18 years of my life here, and then the 24th year, so obviously I’m inclined to think that it’s awesome (also, bias aside, this happens to be empirically true. Fact: the Winchester Mystery House exists, Fact: all the choicest members of my family live here. Fact: flag has a bear on it. Cut. And. Dry. Awesome.). Lately though, these aweless crummy license plates have been getting in my face.

I saw a car with the license plate LUVSWIZ. I hated it. The only possible okay breakdown of that is if it means Lu vs. Wiz, which I can only imagine to mean that a man named LUis is in some type of wacky cannonball run winner-takes-all auto race VS. a WIZard, and the WIZard’s license plate is WIZVSLU, so we can keep them straight. I guess I’m rooting for the wizard, but I don’t know. Luis is probably the underdog what with not being trained in the magical arts and sciences, but I don’t like that his plate could be interpreted to express a passion for urination. I’m sure most people follow a ‘better out than in’ creed when it comes to their liquid waste, Luis, but every motorist needn’t be privy to you love of whizzing. (Pun not only intended, but painstakingly crafted).

Later that week, I saw a shitty Hyundai blasting some sort of terrible bass heavy techno remix of ‘Rocket Man’ with the license plate LEGIT. Shut up. Oh em fucking gee, you butthole, shut up. You! Yes, you, sir, behind the almost certainly illegal window tint that you put on you shitty Hyundai– you are the fucking worst person. The second worst person is the DMV employee who enabled you to express the imaginary legitimacy of your lifestyle via two rectangles of embossed metal. Shame on you. You are an employee of our state, have some pride, DMV guy. The third worst person is probably Pol Pot or somebody like that.

Some years ago, my Dad and I saw a minivan with the license plate AMASCAB. It was being driven by an old lady, so we thought perhaps it stood for grAndMA’S CABriolet (although, as I mentioned, it was a minivan, and not, in fact, a two-wheeled horse-drawn carriage, but it was probably just another way to make fun of grAndMA for being so old. Or perhaps cabriolets were not even involved at all although I doubt it.). Grandma’s Cab is the friendliest interpretation of that plate, though. I’m inclined to think it actually is a shortened version of the sentence ‘I AM A SCAB’. This license plate is, at best, sort of sad and gross. We all feel low from time to time, lady, but you needn’t tell the world that you’re a hardened crust of blood. Tomorrow’s another day, keep your head up! At worst, though, this old lady is an arrogant strikebreaker, way-too-proudly defying both the rights of American union, and Woody Guthrie’s ghost. Also, if Last Exit to Brooklyn taught me anything¬† (other than the fact that being gang raped to death is probably the worst possible way to die), it’s that strikes nearly always have some shady mafia side who will set fire to your minivan for, like, hardly even any money. If you want to be a fartknocking, picket-line-crossing scab, lady, that’s your rodeo, but have some damn discretion for Christ’s sake.

Also here in Tahoe you see an almost endless stream of vanity license plates involving Tahoe. Things like TAHOGRL, LKTABRO (Lake TahBRO), MTNMAN1, TAHO4EV, that kind of thing. I guess I don’t have any particular animosity toward this practice in general, but after the 15th or 16th one that I see in a week, I get to grumbling, especially because a lot of these plates are on Chevy Tahoes. I get it, guys, you love Tahoe. Take it easy.

I had more to say, but it slipped my mind. I guess tune in next week, when, if my ruse was successful, my post will be entitled ‘More About California! Metal Bikini Slave Leia Licking Festival!’.


One Response to “Things Are Getting Out of Californtrol! Naked Twi’lek Jambaroo!”

  1. Pete Ratto Says:

    I do hope the driver of AMASCAB was a kindly Grandma always ready to transport her grandchildren to whatever event or activity they needed to get to. It does give me quite a chuckle to imagine her as an elderly female arrogant strikebreaker though.


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