"I love the priorities of Bikini Bottom law. You can break into people's houses, steal their stuff, beat and maim them without consequence, but litter or read someone else's diary, and your ass is grass."
Let me stress right now out front that I was guilty as sin. I was driving in downtown Miami, which in itself shows very poor judgment because most Miami motorists graduated with honors from the Moammar Gadhafi School of Third World-Style Driving (motto: "Death Before Yielding").
I probably should never have been there anyway, and it served me right when the two alert police officers fired up their siren, pulled me over, and pointed out that my car's registration had expired. I had not realized this, and as you can imagine I felt like quite the renegade outlaw as one of the officers painstakingly wrote out my ticket, standing well to the side of the road so as to avoid getting hit by the steady stream of passing unlicensed and uninsured motorists driving their stolen cars with their left hands so that their right hands would be free to keep their pit bulls from spilling their cocaine all over their machine guns.
Not that I am bitter.
I probably should never have been there anyway, and it served me right when the two alert police officers fired up their siren, pulled me over, and pointed out that my car's registration had expired. I had not realized this, and as you can imagine I felt like quite the renegade outlaw as one of the officers painstakingly wrote out my ticket, standing well to the side of the road so as to avoid getting hit by the steady stream of passing unlicensed and uninsured motorists driving their stolen cars with their left hands so that their right hands would be free to keep their pit bulls from spilling their cocaine all over their machine guns.
Not that I am bitter.
— Dave Barry on parking tickets
