Dear "Dog Mom"

I was driving my boyfriend to his car this morning because the parking ordinances in my town are criminal, but I digress. En route, I got stuck behind an SUV going 17mph. Said SUV had an oval sticker on the trunk door announcing to the world, in case anyone was interested, that she is a "Dog Mom".

My road-rage is epic, eclipsed only by my mother's which can be accurately described as legendary. She once, without any segue, explained to me what we were having for dinner, called some random motorist a tw*t, and then told me she loved me.

Interesting Fact: Pointless bumper stickers send me into a frenzy of snobbish rage.

If you feel the need to indicate details about yourself on the outside of your car, you are the wrong sort of person. You are in the same class of people that puts peanut butter in the refrigerator: unwashed savages. I don't care about your honors student, your lacrosse team, or that you break for squirrels. Your stick-figure family is offensive to my delicate sensibilities. VT, LBI, CA, MV, ACK, OBX - what am I supposed to glean from this other than you are certainly a white chick?

Also, Jesus Fish sounds delicious.

Where was I going with this?

[10 minute tea break]

Dear Dog Mom,

You probably don't remember me, but I was stuck behind you while you drove 8 mph below the lowest speed limit possible. This was bad enough, but you had a sticker on your trunk that said "Dog Mom". I can only assume that this information was meant for me due to it's location, though I'm not sure why your relationship to your dog is pertinent to my driving experience.

My car has a decal of Ursula the sea witch on my rear driver's side window. Based on this, please assume that the next time I get stuck behind you, I will steal your voice and then your man.

Sincerely,
A Concerned Citizen