On my way into the workshop this morning I snapped a photo of the vanity plate in front of me (it was safe we were at a stop light). Rarely does a vanity license plate make any impact on me except to laugh at the driver, but this one had raw wisdom. It wasn’t about being a “pmp,” or a “boy” this, or “girl” that, or some form or “prncss.” The license plate didn’t even say he was a hustler, it simply told you to ‘Hustle Hard.’
