The best rude and crude number plates money can buy
The last newsletter of 2023
Many years ago, when I was living in a share house in Glebe, my housemates and I decided to have a party in December. We invited just about everyone we knew and asked them all to bring a Christmas dish.
One of my friends, Ian, brought several big plastic drink bottles filled with eggnog, the proper boozy stuff. He was bringing people glasses of the cocktail all night as we partied into the early hours of the morning.
Like all good parties we had lots of leftovers the next day. After cleaning up the house, we were picking through them the next afternoon. Which is when I made the happy discovery that one of the eggnog containers had been left behind and was still half-full.
These days, the memory of milky booze is enough to put me under the covers with a hangover. But I was in my 20s and could have a night out on Listerine and bong water with no ill effect.
So even though I probably had had enough booze to sedate a horse the night before, a noggy afternoon tipple seemed like an excellent idea.
I remember sitting on the couch, thoroughly enjoying the last dregs of a large, rich cup of the drink when I got a text from Ian.
“I think I left the cream at your place,” he wrote.
“I didn’t see it,” I replied. “But you did leave one of your bottles of eggnog here. Finishing it now, hope you don’t mind.”
I watched the three dots appear on the screen as Ian started to reply. Then they disappeared. And then they started again.
“Yeah, that’s not eggnog.”
It turns out that he’d brought the ingredients in separate containers and was mixing them freshly on the night. I had been drinking straight cream.
There was only a small sip left in the glass. I mentally shrugged, finished it off, and was surprisingly unashamed of what I’d just done.
Frankly, I’d probably do it again.
And isn’t unashamed gluttony the true meaning of Christmas? Which is why this will be the last newsletter this year. That way both you and I can concentrate on eating, drinking (cream) and being merry however that looks.
But before I sign off for the year, have you heard about the historic number plate that’s up for sale?
While many Australians toy with the idea of eating the rich while they struggle to afford food and rent, one self-basting millionaire has put in a bid of over $10 million for the "NSW 1" number plates.
To contextualise these numbers (which I can hardly believe are true) the most anyone has ever paid for a painting by one of Australia's best-known impressionist artists, Arthur Streeton, is just over $3 million in 2021.
You could have three of the best oil paintings ever completed by a historical great. Or a set of NSW plates with the number 1.
They have got some interesting history behind them though. You can read about it here.
This story did lead me down an interesting garden path, though. It turns out it’s pretty easy to sell number plates in most states and there’s even a website to help you do it.
It’s called “MrPlates” and it’s one of the most amusing places I’ve been on the internet for a while.
If you’re looking for a terrible Christmas present, it might not be a bad place to peruse.
Allow me to share the pick of the crop.
This set in Queensland is a great way to tell your friends and associates that you’re only fucking your husband for his money.
No surprises that this one is a NSW number plate. Highly recommended if you love random drug tests and would like to do more of them.
This is my personal favourite.
In the ad the seller writes: “Can you believe it? These plates were made and are legal. Santa may only come once a year... this plate is a gift that will keep on giving”.
Go on. Buy it for your partner. I dare you. Listing is here and the seller is open to offers until Christmas Eve.
So with that I conclude the last newsletter of the year.
I have a severe allergic reaction to sentimentality. But with epipen in hand, I will risk saying this: I am deeply, deeply touched that you have so kindly given me your time and attention. These are your most precious resources and I do not take that lightly.
I consider you all friends, even if we have not met, and I wish you the happiest holiday season possible.
I’ll be back in your inbox in January. Thank you again for your extraordinarily kind support.