Nyah nyah nyah!

I suppose it’s terribly uncharitable of me to quietly cheer at the sight of fifteen neighborhood kids being rounded up by the police. But I’m pretty sure that every single one of these kids has, at some point, conducted very loud conversations, or revved their cars, or beat up their girlfriends, or barked their dogs, or wheelied their bikes, or discharged firearms, all under my bedroom window at 1:30am on weekdays. If cheering at their arrest is uncharitable, I should probably do time for the violent ideas that occur to me when ripped from my slumber that way.

It’s a good thing the only weapon I own is a four-gallon-a-second SuperSoaker water rifle.