Sunday, September 16, 2007
OPEN LETTER TO ANNOYING HIPPIE PARENT IN THE LOS ANGELES NAT'L FOREST
Okay, first of all, it is really irritating that in a city as dense as ours, there is practically nowhere you can go to be even 70% not fucking annoyed by people. Not even the so-called wilderness.
We were making our way up the side of a narrow trail which was entirely too precarious to be navigating around a family of three, especially when my dog Bosco would rather throw himself off a cliff (and almost did) than subject himself to the rough attentions of a small child.
Tulip just sat there looking up at Cranky like, help me as the little snot persisted in torturing her by attempting to forcibly pet her while her über-crunchy parents did nothing.
On the way back, we had the misfortune of running into the same brat, who this time approached Tulip with all the subtlety of a herd of buffalo while I admonished Cranky, "please don't put her through that again," which is to say, don't let the damn kid chase her all over the place while trying not to appear rude, because clearly these so-called parents think everything their child does is 100% magically delicious and delightful, and rainbow fairies fly out her ass every time she squats on the sidewalk.
Sorry, I got her confused for a moment with Tulip.
Anyway, the brazen brat chased Toolie, then Bosco, insisting "she's afraid of her own SHADOW," when I turned and flat-out told her, "NO, she just does not like KIDS."
The mother, of course, was completely appalled, "what kind of dog doesn't like kids?"
"Pfft," was all I had to say to her Birkenstock-wearing, hands-off parenting, probably still-lacatating-even though her daughter was 7 ass.
The kind that's been tortured by kids, that's what kind. (I ought to know, because I remember being one, and the mean things I would do to my grandma's chihuahua, Peppy. Mostly by just looking at him. R.I.P, poor little tormented, foul-tempered, La-Z-Boy sitting overbred little snausage.)
I don't get it. They seem to think everything and everybody in the world exists only to provide for their child's welfare and/or amusement. Do I go up to their babies and poke my finger in their eyes, then say, "oh, look! He's afraid of fingers"?! NO.
Fucking stupid granola-chomping, serial-killer-breeding, overly permissive L.A. parents.
OPEN LETTER TO ANNOYING HIPPIE PARENT IN THE LOS ANGELES NAT'L FORESTWe were making our way up the side of a narrow trail which was entirely too precarious to be navigating around a family of three, especially when my dog Bosco would rather throw himself off a cliff (and almost did) than subject himself to the rough attentions of a small child.
Tulip just sat there looking up at Cranky like, help me as the little snot persisted in torturing her by attempting to forcibly pet her while her über-crunchy parents did nothing.
On the way back, we had the misfortune of running into the same brat, who this time approached Tulip with all the subtlety of a herd of buffalo while I admonished Cranky, "please don't put her through that again," which is to say, don't let the damn kid chase her all over the place while trying not to appear rude, because clearly these so-called parents think everything their child does is 100% magically delicious and delightful, and rainbow fairies fly out her ass every time she squats on the sidewalk.
Sorry, I got her confused for a moment with Tulip.
Anyway, the brazen brat chased Toolie, then Bosco, insisting "she's afraid of her own SHADOW," when I turned and flat-out told her, "NO, she just does not like KIDS."
The mother, of course, was completely appalled, "what kind of dog doesn't like kids?"
"Pfft," was all I had to say to her Birkenstock-wearing, hands-off parenting, probably still-lacatating-even though her daughter was 7 ass.
The kind that's been tortured by kids, that's what kind. (I ought to know, because I remember being one, and the mean things I would do to my grandma's chihuahua, Peppy. Mostly by just looking at him. R.I.P, poor little tormented, foul-tempered, La-Z-Boy sitting overbred little snausage.)
I don't get it. They seem to think everything and everybody in the world exists only to provide for their child's welfare and/or amusement. Do I go up to their babies and poke my finger in their eyes, then say, "oh, look! He's afraid of fingers"?! NO.
Fucking stupid granola-chomping, serial-killer-breeding, overly permissive L.A. parents.
Labels: mothering.com strikes yet again
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