Donuts in a parking lot, okay. Fine, it’s your car, there is a big wide open area, who cares? Not me. I’ve even heard tales of people pushing shopping carts with a car. Meh… I’m inclined again not to care.

Donuts in the street in front of my house, while I watch your drunken friends cheer you on from the corner, while I watch you nearly hit a mailbox, nearly hit an El Camino, and then slide into a parking spot behind Mark’s car? No. No sir, you cannot take turns with another car, looping up and down the street, causing confusion to other motorists who gave you the right of way because they thought you were stuck in the snow.

Just no. I hate these people. That was just reckless. My own Corolla wouldn’t start this morning, so Mark’s car is all we have. What if you had hit his car? I wouldn’t have a way to get to work in the morning. Okay, to be honest I could probably call Lora again, and hitch a ride with her. I’m sure she’d take pity on me enough to give me a ride for a few days. But what about the guy with the El Camino? What if he doesn’t have the good fortune to have a future sister in law that works at the same place he does? What then?

Destroying your own property/life/body–whatever. It’s a free country.
Destroy mine? Font off.