Smoke-free zones

I continue to be amused by smokers (Dennis Leary being the most famous) who insist on telling me how great and cool and fun smoking is, but refuse to live with their own effluvium.
As in the person in the car in front of me this morning, who held her cigarette outside the window when she wasn't actually puffing on it, flicked her ashes into the breeze, exhaled smoke out the car window, and ended up throwing the butt onto the road.
I'm sorry, I don't expect you to quit your disgusting little habits just because I think it's a good idea (just like I won't quit mine just because you think they're disgusting), but I do wish you'd learn to keep them to yourself.
I'm sure that if smokers were compelled (by beatings, if necessary) to retain all byproducts of smoking (the smoke itself, of course, along with any packaging and lighting instruments, along with all ashes and butts) entirely within their vehicle or residence, they might forego the pleasure.

(Heads on stakes at the city limits may be excessive for smoking, but don't ask me about my theory of punishment for pedophiles...)