The Coolest Kids in Town: a blog about Baltimore, DC, and the misadventures of two-city life.

Well, kids, it's that time of the century again -- Quarantine Time .  What does that mean? Well, for one, it means washing your hands  for a change. That's right -- I've seen your tik toks , you filthy horde. USE SOAP. Now is not the time for your selfishness, your tomfoolery, your flapdoodle, your claptrap, your tommyrut, your fiddle-faddle, your bafflegab, your balderdash, your gallimaufry, your hornswoggling, your malarkey OR your pettifoggery. ESPECIALLY NOT YOUR PETTIFOGGERY. This is a time for all of us to stand up, straighten our spines, and stay the fuck home .  If we can't make the Greatest Generation proud, at least we can make them slightly safer . Let's pay back some of the incredible debt that we owe our elders, many of whom fought hard to make our lives as easy as they are. You've already ruined Grandma's Bastille Day luncheon twenty times over, Christine -- oh, sorry, "KristleBottlez248" -- let's not also ruin her Easte...

You know, kids, I had thought there were certain things that we could all just leave unsaid. I had believed that Charla would raise you all well enough in my stead (obviously not as well as I would have myself, but some things simply must be sacrificed. Mummy had to work! It was tennis season , after all. And for what we're paying her - nevermind. It's no one's fault. No one's but Charla's. ). I had wrongly dreamed and hoped that our tacit understandings and silent disapproval would be enough to guide you all safely through the horrors of the world outside and into the gentle waters of polite society. I was wrong. As your Classics professor (why are you majoring in Philosophy again, darling? We're not that family,  cookie, we're simply not . I wouldn't let your sister play the oboe and I won't let you major in Philosophy), Dean, and several rather overexpressive advisors have explained to me in excruciating detail, you simply have no idea how to...