Some days are worth pondering the complexities in life. Like why my kids can't turn off a bedroom light or why the lady at the DMV looks one day away from a murder trial.
However, today I ponder even greater signs and wonders. I recently noticed a bumper sticker on my commute to school. The bumper sticker proudly states: "Bad a$$ girls drive bad a$$ toys"
I've been thinking about it for the last three weeks. The day I saw said sticker, I made a huge mental post-it of the car and in my ridiculous whirring in my head I asked myself, "Self? How bad or evil does your backside have to be when you drive a Yaris?
Is this statement only true for a Yaris car model? Do badasses drive other makes and models? Does then the villainy extend upwards to your colon or does corruption only centralize sphinctorially? Does it stop at the duodenum or closer to your appendix? One must know these things.
I'm thinking perhaps anal atrocities do not stop at the colon only because spastic colon is also particularly evil and can result with a girl even more bad. However, if a woman was involved in a freak industrial accident and was stuck with a colostomy bag and no arms to drive, does this suddenly make her the milk toast of all wickedness?
When "bad ass girls" drive something other than a Yaris, is it universally acknowledged that she will still maintain her vileness? I would gather, her hindquarters must be exceptionally wicked (or less so) depending on the make and model of her car.
Girls, I suggest arsiness, badness, and corruption is based on a sliding scale of vehicular malevolence. If you do not own a car, or perhaps just have a driving permit, this scale would not apply. Logic dictates that your debauchery only starts after you've passed your driving test at the DMV. It's rumored they've written a booklet if you are willing to wait in line for 3 hours to get it. I am not willing, but if someone can confirm? I'd be so obliged.
Back to the bumper sticker...sooo, translation? You are only as "bad" as the car you drive. Really, I am not making this up.
In the spirit of things, I've taken the liberty of drawing up a such a scale with equal grievances for comparison. The scale is actual size and is as factual as your 4th grade diary you once hid in your underwear drawer.
The Grand Scale of Vehicle Badness:
Sheer debauchery, equal to patrons who talk in the movie theater, muffin top bikinis, not scooping your dogs poop, big 80s hair, and talking to a stranger in the public bathroom stall next to you.
99.9% Sinister evil, equal to cell phones at a funeral that ring "Another One Bites The Dust", eating grapes without paying, one-ply toilet paper, talking about your reoccurring yeast infections openly in a medical terminology class, using acronyms like "OMG" in spoken conversation.
Near moral depravity, aka socks with flip flops, stealing bank pens, hooking up your grandma on match.com, wearing turtleneck dickies that hide muffin neck (akin to muffin top), snoring in church.
THE HONDA ACCORD
Serious wickedness, not to exclude using plastic bags at the grocery, paying for Starbucks coffee in quarters, women with mustaches or braided armpit hair.
THE FORD WINDSTAR
Small iniquities. Cutting in line at Disneyland, eating gluten, having over 15 items in the quick check out lane, wearing white after Labor Day.
Badness is hardly in your vocabulary, you try on shoes without socks on, use tester makeup at the store, eat one whole chicken in a can.
THE SUBARU IMPREZZA
Wishing for badness, burns mix tapes, drinks Coke with vitamins, keeps 50 key chains on keyring, uses the terms, "terlit" and "yousta could".
Badness is leaving the building, still plays with Care Bears, forgets to feed houseplants, reuses tea bags, squeezes the Charmin, has VPL (visible panty lines).
Void of all wickedness, drinks instant Yuban coffee, tapes Saved By The Bell reruns on VHS, has Beiber poster on bedroom wall, watches golf on TV, owns florescent-colored banana clips from 1983 garage sale.
So before you run out believing this bumper sticker will fit all types of vehicle, make sure you own a Yaris. Apparently, they are the height of badassery.
~Bee was not talking about a donkey this whole time.