Bringing Up Baby

You probably don't believe it is my place to explain what is appropriate for your 2-year old child. And by all rights I would agree, but when you show up at a late night movie with this little scamp, I have to wonder. If I know this is wrong, what exactly is your issue? Nudity, strong sexual situations, gory dog attacks, basically everything that makes a fine film does very little to help the psyche of a preschooler. Unless your intention is to create a lifelong bedwetter/possible serial killer. Social services should be at every late-night movie. Your child should be stripped from you as should your fertility.

Peter Pan

The life-of-the-party act that you cling to as you careen into your forties is getting tiresome. You shout your insecurities out to the heavens as you call for the next round on you, oh generous soul. The years of alcohol abuse have left you wetbrained and forgetful. Leaning, spitting, elbowing in the ribs to convey a joke has been told, that is what you have come to. A shamed downcast glance has replaced what was once congenial amusement in the eyes of your friends. Do you even notice? Or does lipsynching take too much concentration? And you could stand to lose a few pounds. The years are have been unkind.

Glimpse of Love

It may very well be the highlight of your day to commute with your spouse. The empirical evidence is lacking on this train ride. Your bickering and sniping about household drama and mundane forgotten errands leave us sickened with an insidious mix of embarrassment and boredom that may not be something one can just recover from. You appear mismatched and you make a striking advertisement for staying single.

Sharing

The mere fact that I have to tell you how inappropriate it is to open a can of tuna for lunch in the office, shows that you are too inconsiderate for social interaction of any kid. Do you believe that everyone loves that cloying scent reminiscent of the wharf wafting off a prostitute? Maybe in their spare time, but more than likely not at work. And while we are on the subject you are really going to have to leave your hard boiled eggs at home.

Champion of Justice

You are power-mad with you role as a metermaid, sir. You may despair over the antipathy shown your way on a daily basis, but please know that it is richly deserved.

Civic Duty

While I dislike the tinny sound of bass that pumps out of his headphones, you, madam do not speak for me when you chide this human mountain. If the only abuse I suffer in his presence is, a bit of noise pollution, I feel perfectly well. I am not 80. Loud music does not leave me of my senses. I do not relish the idea of a a melee incited by you being a busybody wet blanket. I'll need you to try and keep it down.

Liquidity

It is unclear to me what is so very complicated about the automated teller machine. You stare. You pout. You let out a long lingering sigh. You roll your eyes and look around for commiseration (I supply only cold disinterest). Is it a language barrier? Are you using your triple A card? Are you mentally deficient? Or is it, as I fear, you just have nothing better to do with your time than to take up other people's valuable time. The machine whines in disgust against you with high-pitched sounds and flickers screens imploring you to use a human teller who may be able to decipher your request. You are a walking anachronism.