Happy Father's Day

Today is Father's Day so I am taking the day off from writing to sit on the couch and drink beer while watching a game. I'm not really sure what season it is, but I will find a game to watch. And I will smoke a cigar. I will bar b-q and then go watch a boxing match all the while scratching my balls. I will be enjoying the company of my kids who each made me a homemade card that I will read once and then put away somewhere to save forever so no one will know that I am an old sentimental softie. At the end of the day I will fall asleep on the couch with my hand down my pants. Happy Father's Day.

In the meantime, you can read this old tired summer repeat:

I am moved to write because today some lady threw her baby into a mega-stroller and rolled it into my station. The baby looked like it was a few weeks old and I don't know why the fuck anyone would drag their weeks old baby to eat at my place, but she did. Actually I should say her nanny did. Mother just talked on the phone and took cell phone pictures of it. Maybe she was Grandmother. Bitch looked old. First thing: "Can you turn down the music? The baby is asleep." Whatever. Point of story is when they left. I went to clear the table and there was a tiny diaper rolled into a ball that was sitting with the dirty dishes and used napkins. Like I won't notice a fucking dirty diaper. So I have decided to make a list of things to not leave at your table:

• diapers
  
• snot rags
  
• babies
  
• trash from other restaurants
  
• hair pieces
  
• magazines that I don't want to read like Time or Ladies Home Journal
  
• crappy cell phones
  
• your bad attitude
  
• odor
  
• junk mail
  
• your phone number (ugly people only)
  
• apple cores, banana peels or sunflower seeds
  
• used gum
  
• gum of any kind
  
• dirty diapers
  
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