The type of car being advertised doesn't matter. I only own a Nissan XTerra but I would not appreciate someone putting a window cling over my windshield advertising for the FJ Cruiser, or a Jeep, or anything else.
I don't care if it's a Porsche or a Nissan Micra, you don't fuck with another man's vehicle. Ever. Period. Full stop. End of line.
I've been known to grab fliers off my window and drive past the jackass placing them on cars. I've gotten pretty good with a 20mph drive-by left-handed hook shot. The last one I nailed right in the head with his wadded up flier. Once I pulled into a parking spot just as the leafletter passed, he came back to get my car and I told him to fuck off and not touch my car.
I don't care if it does damage to your car or not, you just don't do it. The only time you mess with someone's vehicle is if they have fucked with yours. This was the case recently. I used to live with my cousin when I moved back to Utah. He was laid off just months after buying his first house and needed money bad. I needed a place to crash and didn't want to look at apartments. Together these problems became a solution, at least until he stood there and let his moron friends fuck around in my car while it was in the garage. When I came back my radio, mirrors, and seats were all fucked up; they had emptied my glove box and center console; draped my CB radio mic over the rear view mirror and left a box of crayons on my dashboard to melt. They did all this while my cousin stood there and watched. His defense, "Well, I didn't do it!" Yeah, he didn't stop it either.
So on Valentine's day I took one of those water-soluble paint markers used by car dealerships to write promotional pricing on the glass and drove by his work. I found this pink marker in Tiff's new car when I was cleaning it, I guess the dealer forgot it. When my cousin came out from work he found his windows covered in bright-pink hearts - including his sun roof.
This is the start of a year-long campaign of psychological warfare using that pink marker.
Don't fuck with my car.
I don't care if it's a Porsche or a Nissan Micra, you don't fuck with another man's vehicle. Ever. Period. Full stop. End of line.
I've been known to grab fliers off my window and drive past the jackass placing them on cars. I've gotten pretty good with a 20mph drive-by left-handed hook shot. The last one I nailed right in the head with his wadded up flier. Once I pulled into a parking spot just as the leafletter passed, he came back to get my car and I told him to fuck off and not touch my car.
I don't care if it does damage to your car or not, you just don't do it. The only time you mess with someone's vehicle is if they have fucked with yours. This was the case recently. I used to live with my cousin when I moved back to Utah. He was laid off just months after buying his first house and needed money bad. I needed a place to crash and didn't want to look at apartments. Together these problems became a solution, at least until he stood there and let his moron friends fuck around in my car while it was in the garage. When I came back my radio, mirrors, and seats were all fucked up; they had emptied my glove box and center console; draped my CB radio mic over the rear view mirror and left a box of crayons on my dashboard to melt. They did all this while my cousin stood there and watched. His defense, "Well, I didn't do it!" Yeah, he didn't stop it either.
So on Valentine's day I took one of those water-soluble paint markers used by car dealerships to write promotional pricing on the glass and drove by his work. I found this pink marker in Tiff's new car when I was cleaning it, I guess the dealer forgot it. When my cousin came out from work he found his windows covered in bright-pink hearts - including his sun roof.
This is the start of a year-long campaign of psychological warfare using that pink marker.
Don't fuck with my car.
