My karma ran over your dogma.

I brake for … wait … AAAH! … NO BRAKES!!!!!

I feel like I’m diagonally parked in a parallel universe.

Cover me. I’m changing lanes.

“Auntie Em: Hate you, hate Kansas, taking the dog. — Dorothy.”

If you can read this, I can hit my brakes and sue you.

Drive any closer I’m going to slap you.

Guns don’t kill people. Drivers with cell phones do.

I’m retired. Go around me.

How fast was I going officer? Not fast enough, I guess ...

Don’t bother me. I’m living happily ever after.

Don’t honk. Driver trying to sleep.

CAUTION! Bumper falls off!

If you lived in your car, you’d be home by now.

Answer my prayers. Steal this car.

Forget about world peace ... visualize using your turn signal.

Bad cop. No donut.

Honk If Anything Falls Off.

My other car is a broom.

Honk if you think I’m Jesus.

Stop honking. You’ll wake the guy in my trunk.

Yes, this is my truck. No, I won’t help you move.

Hey idiot — You’re driving a car, not a phone booth.

Seen on an old, beat-up car: “This is not an abandoned vehicle.”

I’m not speeding. I’m qualifying.

I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol.

I got this car for my wife ... not a bad trade.

I hate bumper stickers!