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Owa Tamew Siklenuh Tiam...

Doubt ye my commitment to musicals? Take a look at THESE, unbeliever!

My license plates

Nine full friggin' months it took me to get these plates. (My friend in New York got HER personalized plates in six weeks.) I wonder how much of that time the DMV spent trying to figure out if I was attempting to sneak an obscene comment past them. I envision a phone bank of Aunt Bea/Clara Edwards-type little old ladies sitting there, pronouncing the letters and numeral every possible way for months on end, until they collapse with exhaustion, the final one murmuring, "We think it's OK" before her blue-tinted hair hits the desk and a gentle snore escapes her mouth.

The plate as nature intended. The fat chick is me (I really should not wear stripes), and if you look behind my ass at the extreme left of the picture, you can see the lovely dent I put in my car just days before the plates arrived. Oh well, it didn't affect the CD player, which was the main thing.

Anyway, if you live in Colorado and spot me tooling around, give me a wave and open your window to catch the musical I'll inevitably be blasting at top volume. Gotta be true to the plates, after all, and I'm always trying to expose the good people of Denver to higher culture.

Let me know your opinion of this page. Also any corrections or additions.

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Copyright 2002, D. Aviva Rothschild. All rights reserved