If you had a butler, what would you name him?
Today's my first day back at The Office, y'all, and I'm feeling kinda shaky ...
Sunday afternoon, Mr. Gleemonex and I went to a birthday brunch for two of our friends at this place called the Park Chalet, stepbro of the famous Beach Chalet, on the edge of Golden Gate park and the mighty Pacific Ocean.
Thing the First: That restaurant sucks. The food is too expensive for its quality, the service bloooows, they have no idea how to handle the brunch crowd. If you go there (because of its admittedly awesome location), go to sit on the lawn and drink beers; order several right up front, because that waitress ain't comin back.
Thing the Second, in which I get to my ranty point: It was a sunny, warmish, yay-global-warming day, and everyone and their dog (literally) was out enjoying the weather. On the drive up the Great Highway, within a half mile of our destination, we saw a minimum of seven (7) of these $1100 strollers. That's eleven HUNDRED dollars, y'all. For a STROLLER. Which is a conveyance for INFANTS who DO NOT KNOW OR CARE THAT THEY'RE BEING WHEELED ABOUT IN A GODDAMNED ELEVEN HUNDRED DOLLAR STROLLER, YOU HIPSTER DUMBASS.
Oh my god, does my heart flame with fiery flamey hate for people who buy (and then prance about with) shit like this. WHAT a bunch of assholes. "More money than sense" doesn't even begin to cover it. And those poor innocent babies are going to be dunked daily in this brew of entitlement and privilege, in which their imaginations will be stunted and their hearts flash-frozen and before you know it, they'll be throwing stuff at the nanny, trying to buy Richard Pryor and pitching king-hell shitfits when their trio of ponies arrives the day BEFORE their sixth birthday instead of DURING THE PARTY like they TOLD THEIR BITCH MOM TO ARRANGE AND NOW SHE'S RUINED THEIR LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE.
Sunday afternoon, Mr. Gleemonex and I went to a birthday brunch for two of our friends at this place called the Park Chalet, stepbro of the famous Beach Chalet, on the edge of Golden Gate park and the mighty Pacific Ocean.
Thing the First: That restaurant sucks. The food is too expensive for its quality, the service bloooows, they have no idea how to handle the brunch crowd. If you go there (because of its admittedly awesome location), go to sit on the lawn and drink beers; order several right up front, because that waitress ain't comin back.
Thing the Second, in which I get to my ranty point: It was a sunny, warmish, yay-global-warming day, and everyone and their dog (literally) was out enjoying the weather. On the drive up the Great Highway, within a half mile of our destination, we saw a minimum of seven (7) of these $1100 strollers. That's eleven HUNDRED dollars, y'all. For a STROLLER. Which is a conveyance for INFANTS who DO NOT KNOW OR CARE THAT THEY'RE BEING WHEELED ABOUT IN A GODDAMNED ELEVEN HUNDRED DOLLAR STROLLER, YOU HIPSTER DUMBASS.
Oh my god, does my heart flame with fiery flamey hate for people who buy (and then prance about with) shit like this. WHAT a bunch of assholes. "More money than sense" doesn't even begin to cover it. And those poor innocent babies are going to be dunked daily in this brew of entitlement and privilege, in which their imaginations will be stunted and their hearts flash-frozen and before you know it, they'll be throwing stuff at the nanny, trying to buy Richard Pryor and pitching king-hell shitfits when their trio of ponies arrives the day BEFORE their sixth birthday instead of DURING THE PARTY like they TOLD THEIR BITCH MOM TO ARRANGE AND NOW SHE'S RUINED THEIR LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIFE.
Labels: cubejammin', douchebaggery, first-world problems, Stab stab stab stabbity stab
posted by Gleemonex at 12:10 PM
2 Comments:
You are too funny! I've always wondered if anyone remembered that movie!!!
Wow--and I thought a maclaren was good. Who in the hell makes an $1100 stroller? God, am I old.
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