They’re working. You’re engaging in a luxury activity. That’s kind of a big difference. And we’re talking short money.  

Working to pay your bills as a server = not optional activity.

Yeah.  I have teenagers and was a dreadful teen  myself in the 1980s.   I’m not seeing laziness in this group.  I’m seeing outrage, which I support, and way more commitment (and less alcohol and jackassery) than my peers and I displayed at the time.

Total digression here. I have a 15 year old who cannot get up in the morning. Cannot do it. Multiple alarm types, me yelling into the Google Home every morning “It’s 6am, Get Up KidWhoDoesn’tGetUp!” even bought him the alarm clock that goes off, jumps off the table and rolls around the floor shrieking until it gets…

Agreed.  I blame the boomers for this entire shitshow.  

Wow, that is really insightful.   I was married to a narcissist and that was *exactly* what it was like.   

Unitarian here.  Three UUs, four opinions, one self-deprecating joke about Robert’s Rules of Order and occasionally an interpretive dance.

The seller is clearly an asshole who will be first against the wall when the revolution comes, but my biggest household decorating problem is hiding the extra chairs from my table (only two because I have a six-person table) between New Year’s Eve and Thanksgiving the next year.

I was in prep school and college in the 1980s. I don’t know what the stigma these days is among the kids, but back then, routine, underage binge-drinking was the norm.

Having a bottle of wine in the house and not drinking it for MONTHS requires an amount of self-control that I clearly lack.

Ah.  Good to know.  Thanks.  

Seconded (thirded?).  Peets Major Dickasons is my blend as well.  Even the decaf is good, and it’s strong enough to stand up to being iced.

The FBI is on the scene, according to WCVB.   

I’m waiting for the inevitable link to Fyre Festival.

“Mr. Trump resisted, and viewed the news coverage of the former senator’s death as over-the-top and more befitting a president.”

Starred for accurate description of tl:dr.

Yep.  It isn’t condescension.  It’s relief.

A PLACE FOR MY DAMNED PURSE.

JESUS CHRIST, THIS FUCKING GUY....

Ah, sorry - missed the sarcasm.  Carry on.