I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel for poetic inspiration here, but this bloke's vanity license plate, cocked at a jaunty angle, cracked me up for some reason. I couldn't see the driver, but I imagine him to be an Anglophile who wears tweed, smokes a pipe, and refers to himself in the third person. Of course I pointed it out to my son, who sensibly asked, "Who's Mister Uck?" I managed to snap a quick, blurry picture (sorry, but I was driving!), so you can see him for yourself.

Oh look, there he is!
It's Mister UK, Willem--
quick, take a picture!