The letters DMV might as well be synonymous with confusion. I walked in yesterday and saw a circus performer juggling bowling pins and hitting the ceiling tiles – Smash, Smash, Smash! I had to duck through seven of them to reach the window where the clerk quickly grabbed my paperwork and told me I couldn’t renew my license. “This isn’t Even my Final Form,” I shouted, but she didn’t care. She simply replied, “Rule 34. Don’t come to the DMV on Tuesday.”