Back in my formative years we had a way of dealing with these blank shooting self-righteous ass clowns. It involved cold water, hot sauce, and the good old green and yellow pump action Super Soaker 50. Fill that bad boy up with the appropriate concoction, pile a few of your buddies into a mini van equipped with a well lubricated sliding door[. . .] Patiently scout your surroundings, be sure to check for witnesses, and, when the time is right, slide open the door and pull up along side your prey. Yell something like, “HEY SWEET TITS” or “YOU’RE NOT LANCE!” to get his attention.

When he looks over, blast him in the face from two or three barrels filled with the potion then race off before he has the chance to flush his eyes and get a glimpse of your plates. Serves him right!

My wife was biking south on Minnehaha today (Saturday, July 6) around 4:15 p.m. when she encountered a bicyclist crawling on the boulevard and saying he was blind and needed water.

My wife stopped to assist the man, as did some nearby residents, and she gathered that somebody had thrown some liquid at the man, presumably from a passing vehicle -- though the vehicle part is merely an assumption on my part.