You’ve always known Brett is a lying, cheating son of a bitch and now you finally have the evidence to back up – a bumper sticker in a bathroom stall. All the years of chasing after even the faintest shred of proof that your boyfriend is a dishonest piece of shit culminating in self-doubt that maybe you were the one that was crazy all along finally paid off. Somebody distrusted him so much they took the time to go to a print shop and have your very suspicion printed in plant black-and-white on a low-tack bumper sticker and slap it on a handicap rail in the shitter of a neighborhood bar for any old asshole to see.
It has to be true.