Dear DMV Officials in the Commonwealth of Virginia, It's become apparent that you officially need to have a giant stick removed from your collective behinds. The decision to remove the inventive EAT THE license plate from your Kids First plate promotion (which resulted in the gut-busting Eat The Kids First) has caused us not to get angry but to roll our eyes … a lot. Thanks a lot — now our heads hurt.
And then we read your explanation, kindly provided to Jalopnik by Redditor WHOWANTSBEEF (who came up with the play on words to begin with). Says this angry Virginian:
On their own, they came to the conclusion that my plate advocated oral sex on children, oral f—–g sex on underage f—–g children!! I was completely shocked and couldnt form a complete sentence afterwords.
I then tried to get the plate "FUVADMV", but it didnt pass muster.
Oh dear, DMV officials, you have some severely naughty, naughty minds. Here we were thinking Jeffrey Dahmer had come back from the dead to make us laugh, and you went there? Virginia is for lovers, but gosh darnit, we didn't think it was for pedophiles.
And here's the thing. In a state with more personalized plates than people it seems (trust me, when I lived there, you couldn't walk two feet down the street without seeing another person who'd ponied up for vanity plates — my husband and father-in-law included), you're putting a lot of stock in people reading them and taking them to heart. We adopted our first cat from a girl whose plate read "Cuddlzzzz" or something to that effect. It did not cause me to run out and cuddle everyone I saw. Nor did seeing the umpteenth the south will rise again, rebel, blah, blah, blah plate force me to bail on my Yankee sensibilities yell yeehaw and grab a shotgun (although to this day I do say y'all … and we moved back north in 2001).
I just don't see the bulk of the commonwealth running out to gnaw on their kids' arms because they saw Eat The Kids First on some guy's hoopty. Was there a run on cat shelters and hot sauce when Mini Me tried to take a chunk out of Mini Mr. Bigglesworth?
I'm already well aware there's a dire lack of common sense round-about your offices. After all, when I moved there with a valid out-of-state driver's license, you somehow refused to grant me a Virginia license until I had proven that I took driver's education at my New York high school. Even though I had a valid (and clean) New York State driver's license, meaning I had passed all written and driving tests required by the State of New York to get behind the wheel of a car. We drive in snow up here! We drive in ice, and they were willing to trust me. But you gave my husband a driver's license when he was in high school — without ever once requiring him to get in a car with a DMV official and actually take a road test. Which one sounds like the more experienced driver to you?
So let's lay this one out for you: some wordsmith found a cunning way to turn his car into a joke on four wheels, while the rest of Virginia piddles around with their initials and odes to Virginia Tech and UVA on their rides. But you'd prefer the latter represent your state, er, commonwealth.
Remove stick. Insert backbone. And have a laugh on us.
Sincerely,
A parent who finds Eat The Kids First uproarious
P.S. Have you ever nibbled on the toes of a baby fresh out of the bath? They're delicious, and boy does that kid's giggles warm the cockles.
Image via Great Vanity Plates
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