Today’s feel-good story comes from my friend Brodigan at Louder with Crowder who reports that Ukrainians are shrinkwrapping looters to electrical poles.
Just for the record, it’s the shrinkwrappees going public sans pantalons, not the shrinkwrappers.
Here’s one, buns and all.
This one had his pants pulled down and then taped in the freezing cold
Ok so you don’t want to pick up a gun and fight for your country like most Ukrainians but don’t go on looting homes and businesses. pic.twitter.com/CDp8gDDJm0
— Billy Boston Strong 🌊 🌊 🌊 💉3, Stand with 🇺🇦 (@BillyBostonStr) March 2, 2022
It’s almost like a college dare gone horribly wrong…
…not that I’m speaking from experience, mind you.
For the record, I am against street justice.
I believe in the rule of law and all that goes with it, including, should the necessity arise, letting ten looters go free so that not one innocent man ends up with his butt cheeks publically flapping in the winter breeze.
That said, there’s a part of my shriveled, dark little heart that is so glad somebody is doing this.
Secretly — well, secretly between our lovely VIP readers and me — I wish I had the chance to do it myself.
Isn’t the id fun?
What else is it we’re not supposed to do but wish we could?
Would you believe I made a little list? Of course, you would.
Who among us hasn’t dreamed of running through the streets of downtown San Francisco at full speed, straight-arming every aggressive panhandler along the way?
Your hand may have twitched at the idea of kidney-punching that guy who gets right up in front of you at the baggage turnstile.
There is probably an upper limit on the number of times you’ve wanted to drive your shopping cart right through the slow-walkers advancing side-by-side down the aisle at Glacier Speed, but it’s a limit with at least three or maybe four digits.
There is not enough itching powder in the world for people who say “irregardless.”
They need to make a special hood-mounted rocket-propelled grenade launcher because it’s really the only proper way to deal with left-lane hogs.
Also for our VIPs: My CPAC Interview With Sen. Mike Braun of Indiana About Health Care Policy in the Pandemic Panic Age
On a slightly less violent note, one time I did take matters into my own … hands. Many years ago, my apartment became Ground Zero for various religious groups knocking on doors. I was always polite, but eventually, enough was enough. I invited the nice young Mormon men in for a chat, sat them down on the sofa, and asked if they’d like a lemonade. I returned from the kitchen a minute or two later with two Country Times and zero pants. They left in a hurry, and NONE of the groups ever came back, like they shared a master list of weird people. Did I go too far? You make the call.
Speaking just for myself on this one. I would dearly love to sing “Come Fly With Me” to a huge audience à la Frank Sinatra at the Sands — and to hell with every listener’s bleeding ears. (Yes, my singing voice is really that bad.) (And sorry-not-sorry if you happen to be in the audience.)
Finally, there is almost nothing in the world many people would rather do than taze some overly officious TSA agent so hard that they nearly choke on their own bubbling drool.
But no. We mustn’t.
Sigh.
On second thought, maybe I am very much on the side of the shrinkwrappers.
After all, it isn’t like law and order prevail in Ukraine right now. When things break down, ordinary citizens must do what they can to restore a little civility — even if that means getting a little uncivil themselves.
Public humiliation for those who would prey on their own countrymen during wartime is probably better than they ought to expect under those conditions.
Besides, I at least waited for warm weather to lose my pants for the cause.