Some people have such pathetic, thwarted lives that being noticed on Twitter by Chelsea Clinton is an enormous big deal for them. You’d say, Chelsea Clinton? Who the hell cares about her? Well, apparently the linked fellow can’t get over her being A RICH PERSON who finally noticed him.
If he’s over the age of 25, it’s very sad. If he’s older than 40, it’s simply tragic.
I keep writing about restaurants because I’m very happy that after a short break between Klara’s infancy and right now we can start going out to restaurants again. We love eating out on weekends.
Klara likes restaurants but only if we forego any attempt at placing her in a high chair or a booster seat. She wants a real chair of her own, a serious plate, a glass, and a spoon to feed herself. Once all these are provided, she will potter along happily with her food trying to transport some of it from the plate to her mouth (she’s not yet a year and a half, so it’s hit or miss) while we enjoy adult conversation.
She has this deeply offended look on her face when we offer a high chair. It’s so funny. Today at the restaurant she actually walked to an empty table, selected a chair, and dragged it to our table to show us what kind of seating arrangement is acceptable to her.
Sorry for the MIA, folks. I’m having my obligatory August bout of severe cold in the midst of extreme heat.
Politics these days is already grotesque, but in the state I am, I can’t even figure out what’s real.
The so-called pet lovers are unbelievably deranged. We have two public parks located next to each other: one for kids and one for dogs. The only difference is that one has playground equipment and a kids’ library and the other doesn’t. In everything else, they are identical.
Now try to guess whether dog-lovers respect the multitude of signs begging them to walk over to the pet park and leave the playground to the kids.
Of course, they don’t.
There is no logical reason not to use the pet park other than a sociopathic need literally to shit on the kids’ playground experience.