Where is the Zodiac when we need him?

This offering to The Zodiac: Self-righteous, militant non-smokers. The ones who start coughing and covering their sour, pinched faces when they're still 60 feet away with the wind at their backs.  The ones with the horrified expressions, who pass by looking at me as though I were pointing an M-16 at their smug, pointy heads.  The ones who sit right next to me on the bench. The bench with the giant ash - tray at one end.   The bench with the giant ash - tray at one end that happens to be the only legal smoking area on that entire side of the mall.  And then have the nerve to say "Do you HAVE to smoke right  here?" Why, yes, actually, you brain-dead bundle of FUCK! And while I'm at it, why, in the name of Lucifer, would you oooze up and park your too-tight-to-even fart ass on an obvious smoking bench, between 2 or 3 equally obvious and currently active smokers, unless the entire exercise is simply meant to give you something to whine and moan about all day. Whats the matter ? Jerry Springer not on today? Nothing to bitch about at home? No gay inter-racial couple to set fire to? Get a life, you fucking pinheads, bitch about something real for once. Thanx for listening.
Be safe,
TRS