Stranger Danger

It seems that, for every fertilized egg, a thousand crazies are spawned. I’ve always been bothered by the level of stupidity and sheer audacity of today’s society, but until two years ago, I was completely unaware of how out of control people truly are. Obviously, people don’t just appear out of thin air (my mangled vagina is proof of this), but it seems that the real idiots lay low until you get pregnant.

It’s evident that a round belly and raging hormones are less a symbol of fertility and happy beginnings and more of a brightly-lit neon sign, encouraging useless advice and ridiculous comments on one’s life choices. A baby’s cries are not those of hunger or fear,  rather, they are a foghorn, beckoning inconsideration and general lack of basic tact.

In what capacity did it become okay, as a stranger, to add your input into the life of someone already struggling to keep their shit together? When did it become commonly acceptable to

I’ve had the unfortunate displeasure of encountering far too many of these imbeciles, and I’ve noticed a rise in the level of uncouth in direct correlation with age. The older they are, the more bold, disrespectful, and all-around distasteful the conversation becomes.

One such example of the idiocy I’ve had to deal with took place in a restaurant not too long ago

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