I'm sure there are lots of reasons one might want to become a prosecutor--to put dangerous people behind bars, enjoy the histrionics of trial practice, or wield the awesome power of the state. But one rarely mentions the privilege of channeling the public sentimentality of criminal justice--a perk that Kurt Klomberg appears to have enjoyed while prosecuting a mother for having her children blow into an ignition-lock breathalizer because she was too hammered to drive. To drive to Taco Bell, that is:

The nature of this crime is grotesque . . . . Those lives could have ended because their mother, the person they trusted the most, had the munchies.

I don't mean to downplay the gravity of the crime (and I've publicly argued that DUI enforcement should be stepped up) but something about the image of being drunk and hungry for a mexi-melt doesn't exactly inflame my moral indignation.

(Link from the Obscure Store.)