Another Bizarre Phenomenon: The Car Advertiser

Car advertising. As in, pasting the name of your business all over the side/back of your car via a cling-on. Could be a good idea, right? It's free, after the purchase of the cling thing. It appears in multiple places (wherever you appear), instead of staying in one place like a billboard. Sure, it can be a great idea. Unless you're the most aggressive driver on earth.
Seriously, people. You need to THINK. THINGS. THROUGH. Here are a few questions for you:
* Do you tailgate (not with beer)?
* Do you pass people on the inside lane, even though they're already going 5 miles over the speed limit?
* Do you honk aggressively and make wild hand motions?

If you answered yes to any of the above, car advertising is NOT. FOR. YOU. You see, it turns out that if you are a complete jerk while sporting the name of your business in huge letters across the side of your car, it has the exact OPPOSITE intended effect. It turns out that, after you cut someone off and flip them off, they no longer have a fuzzy feeling about Fuzzy Friends Pet Store. I know. Advertising is tricky that way.
Honestly, what are you thinking? Do you forget?
Today I was on the expressway and this huge white Suburban-looking thing gets within an inch of my bumper as I'm going 75ish. So I get over. As they're passing, I look over to give them the deathrayeye, and there's "Such and Such Pet Cemetery" painted on the side. My first thought is that they're probably keeping themselves in business, driving like that. My second thought is, if my dog dies, that's the LAST place I'm burying her. I mean, I don't like my dog, so I'd probably just bury her in the backyard anyway, but I'm definitely not burying her there now.
All of this brings me to the story of DJ Craze, my arch enemy of Kzoo. That's not his real name, and he doesn't know he's my arch enemy. He runs a DJ business, a fact that wouldn't escape you if you ever ran into him, because the name and info is literally pasted all over his van. The first time I ran into DJ Craze was when I was out running along Drake. It's a bit difficult to turn onto Drake from side streets, because it's decently busy. DJ Craze was having none of that, though. The poor guy in front of him was inching forward, looking for an in, and DJ Craze laid on his horn, starts yelling and wild-hand-motioning out of his open window.
And then I thought to myself, "Hey, If I ever need a DJ, I'm calling DJ Craze!"
No.
I thought, Hey, DJ Craze! I hope all your records skip!
And now, I see him EVERYWHERE. At the post office, at the Y, at the post office again. He looks a lot like mean old man Clint Eastwood from El Torino. Except, if he happened to witness me being beat up by a gang, I don't think he'd save me. Unless the beating was blocking traffic. In which case, I think he'd just bulldoze us all. Every time I see him, I narrow my eyes a little. Should I ever need a DJ, I will know exactly who not to call.
Am I saying that I am some awesome, heal the world driver? No, but I also don't have "Lolalou: College Professor!" written across my car. Though I do have an Obama bumper sticker, and he probably wishes that I didn't.