I walk outside today and see what? Oh just tons of emptied Whipper Snapper wrappers strewn all around the trash bin, stairs and dirty porch area that has been assigned to me by the warden-like manager of my seemingly charming apartment building.
And what did I see earlier? Three resident troublemakers, all under the age of 14. One in a ski mask, holding a plastic gun – a getup that would land him directly in jail if he were 16 or older.
These are the kids responsible for littering and throwing legal gunpowder bombs all over the ground. If it were socially acceptable to hit children with paddles, I would. Not my own hypothetical non-existent kids, but other people’s? Hell yes. Continue reading “Why I Hate The 4th Of July And The Days Leading Up To It”