Well all have them. From Cousin Bob who got caught with Farmer Brown's prized goat to the cop magnet sister who can't explain that gram of meth in her purse. From the siblings who guilt you into feeling bad because you are successful with your two cars, 2.5 children, the PWC in the garage and the house in the burbs while they are cribbing in the ghetto, having to sleep low on the floor at night. Some days I wonder just WTF is wrong. Luckily for me, there is no blood relation going on here, but because of marriage, I used to claim some lost souls of society. I can understand having an outstanding warrant on a bad check from several years ago. I can even hang with having the chat, hoping that my status and my present company will have some small influence on future life decisions. My panties tend to get wadded up when I'm standing in the parking lot of the corner quickie stop with 5 of my closest coworkers and we're not get answers on why the vehicle and said occupants smell like they just left a Cheech and Chong reunion party. Those same panties really start to bind when a few days later I'm told of a law enforcement contact at the residence that results in felony warrants being issue and arrests made. Finally, a couple days ago, those panties were so tight that all blood was cutoff to my head once I found the report. In my new position, I'm more than happy to track down information for victims when they call requesting an update. I'm not so happy that once I've found that report and have read it. Even though if the case belonged to my agency, I would have to take myself out of play on it; I might not be able to refrain from issuing a beatdown due to the idiocy involved. I guess those years I spent in the Army prepared me for this crap. I'm easily able to detach myself from people. Maybe someday, we can once again gather around the living room at Christmas time without having to carry a stack of warrants with me.