Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Shhh! Don't Tell Dad!

Remember how my Dad gave me his old Jeep and Megan & I went back to Kentucky to pick it up and hosted one of my first lollapaloozas here?

Well, Dad said I wasn't allowed to mess up the Jeep. No sticking a bunch of stuff all over it.

He didn't need to worry. I'm not one to put cutsey stickers on my car. You'll never see one of those  little stick figure families gracing my back window. No political stickers. No "Save the Whatevers."

License plate frame, yes. I've had this one for 15 years:
Yes, this is an actual photo of my actual license plate.

 It's one of the only slogans I can fully, whole-heartedly support.

That may be why I don't have a tattoo—because I can't decide on one that I love enough to live with forever. 

Bumper stickers fall into the same category for me because no matter how hard you scrape, you just can't get those suckers off!

And I'm just not a bumper sticker kind of girl.

Stickers on my Kindle?
Actual photo of my actual Kindle. The same one I sleep with nearly every night.


Stickers on my laptop?
My old Mac laptop that I dearly love but is missing several keys.

Of course!

Stickers on my cell phone?
Okay, I don't really have this cell phone cover but...

Totally Would!

I'll even put stickers on my skin.
My actual leg with an actual air-brushed dragon tattoo on it.


But my car? 

No. Way.

Until I got this for Christmas. 
Actual sticker on my actual Jeep window.

Need a closer look?

There it is! For the viewing pleasure of all the cars that drive behind me.

(Amazon. They have them for every state.)

Is my sister an awesome gift-giver or what?!?!

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