Another fun thing I do during my walks around the neighborhood is try to guess who owns vehicles based on their bumper stickers. For instance, there is a car with one of those “Abortion no; adoption yes” stickers in front of one of the $800,000 houses (in our region that’s extremely expensive, by the way.)
I was absolutely certain the owner had to be an older rich man because who else would be clueless enough about pregnancy not to figure out that there are women who want to avoid being pregnant because of possible health complications, physical hardship and loss of work productivity? One of those idiots who earnestly say crap like, “Well, if she doesn’t want a baby, why not just give birth and put it up for adoption?” The word “just” is especially endearing in a creature who is physiologically incapable of the state he so carelessly dismisses as trivial.
Today I finally saw the car’s owner, and what do you think? Yes, of course, it’s a sixtyish fellow with a paunch and a handlebar mustache.

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