It's 1965, you're Jimmy Tarbuck and you've hit the big time. The nation has taken to this working-class lad made good and driving a brand-new Rolls Royce with the number plate COM 1C is entirely reasonable. You've earned, it, Jimmy, you've come good.
A few years later and "Ho-ho. That's magic!" as hugely popular entertainer Paul Daniels takes delivery of a Ferrari with the all-too-predictable registration MAG 1C. How we laughed.
But, as ever, the already valueless Monopoly(TM) currency is further devalued by the clueless chancers, the halfwits and the utter nonentities that get their arse and elbow all mixed up, put the cart before the horse and confuse cause and effect. No longer do you have to achieve anything at all in order to acquire and display in public a personalised number-plate. If anything the reverse is true.
Just as dumb-fuck 'talent' shows have promoted the notion of celebrity before ability, sure enough the DVLA has cashed in on the gullibility of the Beemerwankers. I've said before, it's not the car that's the problem, it's the self-belief of the "I'm worth it" generation who degrade its status. If the only thing that defines you is your personal plate then, by definition, you are a moron. Just as with the Beemerwankers, the overt display of your own self-importance marks you out as a cock.
So, bring it on 5HA RON, CUP 36D and old bird T65 HRT. Laugh it up G 5POT, LOL 1 and BI6 LAF.
Because,as far as I am concerned, you are a bunch of CUN T1N, T055 ERS, SP1 GOTs and BE11 ENDs
4QU you 4R 5E
Have a nice day. :o)
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