To the parent pushing the double-wide two-passenger six-cup-holder WiFi-hot-spot-enabled off-road-capable armor-plated eight-wheel stroller through the narrow aisles of a museum exhibit:
May your children be disappointments, move back into the basement of your cookie-cutter suburban big-box, eat all your Cheetos, and completely neglect you when the premature dementia that clearly already infects your meager excuse for brains finally takes hold and leaves you drooling and uncomprehending. And may you dimly remember running into me with your me-first behemoth and wonder if it all started going downhill then.
— Frenulum
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