Despite what some people may think, I believe in the golden rule. This is why I do not go to public events if I can help it. We celebrated the Fourth of July from our living room. I could not help but feel sorry for the poor folks who traveled from places as far away as Malden to come to the mosquito infested Esplanade (a French word for "swamp") on the Charles to listen to some screeching black opera chick, an uninspiring, mumbling performance by Lee Ann Rhymes ("What's up Boston?"), and the mastaburtory slurpings of the local media. 600,000 bladders showed up and stood in 3mile long lines while swatting away those ubiquitous bearers of West Nile Virus (another reason to nuke the entire Arab continent)? But the most annoying thing must have been those perfect assholes who decided that their own lard-assed performances were more important than the view of the stage.
I guess diehard concert attendees are accustomed to that sort of inconsiderate behavior. They don't let me go to concerts anymore, since the incident where some people who blocked my view of the stage were mysteriously found dead with poisoned dart wounds on the back of their necks. This gave rise to the phrase "tough darts."
I was found innocent by a jury of my peers who also hate inconsiderate concert goers.
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Bring us your soggy crackers and crumpled paper yearning to be composted, your old cardboard and plastic bottles huddling in your garage. This is the dump; its not just our job, it is who we are: Dumpsterguys
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