For instance, I never fail to walk or drive down my street without bitterly resenting the boneheads who park in the No Parking zone. They always park at the crest of the hill, making it a dangerous spot for oncoming traffic in either direction. I walk my dog and dream of carrying bright red nail polish with me; with a quick flick of the wrist, I'd spray it all over their window and hood. You make my neighborhood dangerous, I make you pay to get your car repainted, yanqui pigdog.

I'd really, really like to have a paintball blaster for the maniacs who cut in front of me with virtually no room to spare, just because they couldn't bear to get behind me to make their turnoff. They endanger both our lives by zipping in front of my car and then slowing down to turn. Blammo! A huge splortch of paint on your rear window and you'll never do that again, cowboy.

It's not just revenge on cars and their owners that I fantasize about, though I'd have to say that's a major target for me. I'd also like to dump a big, steaming pile of horse poop on the front porch of every dog owner who lets their animal run wild in the neighborhood. It's really dangerous for the dogs to be loose in an urban environment, not to mention a pain to have the pooches doing their business in my yard.

My favorite revenge fantasy is reserved for joggers who ignore traffic signals and sprint into the intersection because they can't bear to let their heart rate slow for even two minutes. They dart into traffic all the flipping time, giving me a major cardiovascular workout as I slam on the breaks trying not to hit them. I want to, though, I really want to. Just once, I'd like to not be able to break in time, and tap them. Break a leg, you health freak! My insurance company bites your insurance company, because you were at fault! Ha!

Sigh. Boy, it's a pain to be a good citizen.