The Jack Daniels down the injectors..Pha, big deal, it would probably run better, but this^^? Ok, I will graciously accept that I am outdone. And undone by laughter....goddam, passive agressive, post Sesame Street generation of hubristic, self-satisfied pr*ck faces... I feel your pain sir, I truly do....
Like many of us I'm sure, I try to picture today's squealing whelps growing up in my childhood surroundings. Lawdy lawdy, they would have been ridiculed, beaten with baseball bats that were actually used to
play baseball, and left in the hills to become desiccated husks. Hell, we almost executed two brothers who had immigrated into our hood from the Bronx because they referred to jeans as "dungarees". I mean, really? Dungarees? NYC street gang pussies.
It's times like this I'm thankful I never spawned any urchins. I am guilt-free in contributing to the dissonance and dysfunction, and feel justified in pointing my finger at my peers for failing their brood.
However, I feel the most sorrow for the Original Poster of this thread, who is even more Confused and at a loss now than even before. You know, like the kid on a bike caught in a downpour outside of town, while herds of SUV's zoom by unconcerned.