Churches remain known for their massive parking lots the size of the kingdom of heaven itself; Sunday mornings gave birth to Pathfinders, Priuses and Corollas, regularly packed like sardines next to each other. Typically, a car would pull up with its shiny "Jesus is my co-pilot" sticker glistening on the rear bumper, asserting its presence, as a professionally dressed woman, probably Christian, got out, a Bible under one arm. Driving through the church parking lot, I wouldn't have done a single double-take if one of the bumpers said "Repent or be damned." The Christian drivers seemed predictable. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get the original essay Elsewhere, on the way home from church, several bumpers boldly declared "My other ride is your mother" and "I like whores" like their tattooed, freshly released drivers from college, blasted the latest rap songs and rolled down the front windows, shouting obscenities for seemingly no reason at other drivers. As offensive as the stickers themselves may have been, they certainly did justice to the drivers' obnoxious personalities. The bumper did the tedious job of whispering "Warning: Immature Idiot Ahead" to any driver unlucky enough to be caught behind such a nuisance. (Read: me). And yet, nothing unpredictable on the part of these drivers either. Bumper stickers can be identified as the equivalent of a vehicle tattoo: they don't come off easily, they have one meaning or another, and they are often the result of ugly errors of judgment. Not a day goes by without at least one unlucky person's vehicle vehemently displaying a half-torn and poorly removed sticker covered in residue. More often than not, they're the remnants of old political campaign stickers, discarded in favor of a newer, shinier "Insert 2016 Candidate" display next to them. On the other hand, many drivers avidly stick to one set of roots or beliefs: I have yet to see a single Smart car owner without a "Go Green!" or a “Go Vegan” sticker to clearly distinguish yourself from anyone driving an eco-friendly car “just because”. The roomy SUV or camper with a “Rocky Mountains” or “Yellowstone National Park” sticker in the middle of Florida paints a one-title image: traveler. Stuck behind such a vehicle as it stopped at a roadside rest area, it was no surprise that a couple of tourists emerged hand in hand. Upon closer inspection, piles of bags were stacked on top of each other in the back seat. Sure enough, the license plate was no different: “Ohio,” it read. The stickers represented both perfectly. Any driver can easily spot a proud, loving mother regularly pulling into elementary school parking lots for PTO meetings, bumpers screaming with joy. “My child is an honor roll student” or “My child is an awesome kid” often nestle just below the trunk handle. These two stickers once only appeared every millennium or so, but now seem to appear on every vehicle in school car lines at some point. Ironically, a car with an annoyed driver and a Doberman leaning out the side window can often growl angrily in response to mothers.