Control Your Freakin’ Kids!!!

I’m at McDonalds the other night. It’s like 9pm or thereabouts.  I’m tired and hungry and grumpy and all the other dwarves.  Two kids come in with “adult supervision.”  Minus the “supervision.”

I’m sure they’re perfectly nice kids when heavily sedated.  These two little shits came over to the corner where I was quietly sitting and munching away on a Big Mac and fries.  They decided it was appropriate to play on the table and chairs next to mine laughing loudly and chasing each other about like ferrets.  When I made disapproving eye contact, they looked at me as if to taunt me to do something about them.

Hey mister!  Yeah, you over at the freakin’ counter waiting for your freakin’ order like a freakin’ statue.  Yeah you, ya’ jerk!  Come collect your freakin’ kids and keep them under some kind of freakin’ control will ya?


Oh, and minutes later?  You might want to hold their hand so they don’t dash out behind my car when it’s backing up….





What the hell is the MATTER with people anyway?

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