'Cause the regime don't like it, man

Sigh. So expensive. So conformist. So pathetic, holding on to a license plate and then replacing it with a bumper sticker (a vague one at that - where are my county propers?) when holding on to a license plate becomes impossible. You took a piece of my vehicular identity, New York. But I suppose it was time.

The Great Wine Caper went as planned. I managed to snag some of my goods from my parents' houses. Mostly books and a few kitchen gadgets. As we lifted the tarp covering my boxes, one of the two feral cats living in the garage somersaulted to the floor and ran away. Some of my feminist propaganda is claw-marked. Now Maevis won't stop sniffing my literature.