It's Raining Cats and Dogs. Not Men.

I know that people are animal lovers. They love their dogs. They love everything about their dogs. They love their dogs’ poop. They love their dogs so much that they don’t mind touching their hot steaming load of poop with their bare hands. So much that they’ll walk around holding the hot steaming poop for while, until they find a proper place to put it.

They love their pooches so much they'll step over a homeless person to be sure man's best friend shits in the place of its choice.

Sometimes I think many folks love their pooches more than people.

I don’t want to offend anybody here because I am aware of how people feel, but I’m just stating some observations.

I was out to dinner one night with my BFF, Tara. It was like 500 degrees out. We sat outside at an Italian restaurant. We thought we’d have a relaxing dinner. And we were. But all of a sudden we both heard whining. Where was it coming from? The table next to us. These two twenty-somethings were kvetching about God knows what. And they wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t just me. They were making Tara crazy too. Then, a friend of theirs drops by. The friend has two dogs with her. What the…?

This isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed this. What’s up with people bringing their pets to restaurants? And what’s up with them being allowed in with their pets? I don’t get it!

I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love animals as much as the next guy. But I don’t want them at my dinner party. For various reasons. Hair in my food, being one of them. A trip to the emergency room being another.

Listen, some people are very allergic to animal dander. My sister, Sookie, has a serious allergic reaction to dogs and cats. If she’s exposed, un-medicated, she can’t breathe.

People come into restaurants with their dogs. The dog may be on a leash or in their purse, but they’re in. And the weird thing is, the restaurants allow it. I have a problem with it. I love my dog too, but I don’t feel it’s appropriate to bring a pet to a restaurant. It is unsanitary, impolite, stinky, and people have very bad allergies to pets. So, it’s wrong for people to bring them there, but even more wrong for the owners to allow it. That’s all I’m saying.

The same thing goes for airplanes. I was on a flight with Sookie a few months ago. She is highly allergic to animals, including house pets (cats and dogs). If she knows she is going to a home with pets, she needs to medicate prior to the visit. If she doesn’t she has a severe allergic reaction, which could land her in the hospital. So it’s serious.

So sue me.

Families & Babies & Strollers. Oh My!

The Upper East Side is over populated with families pushing strollers. So much so that you can’t even friggin’ walk down the street without tripping over one of them. You can’t even get past them. They take up the whole damn block.

The hot husband, the frumpy wife, the three-year-old and the stroller. I hate them. I hate them all. Is that wrong of me? Am I a bad person? Am I just bitter because they are not me? I don’t know. But that’s the way I feel and I’m not the only one. My other single BF’s on the UES also feel the same way.

You can’t spit without hitting a pregnant woman and her stroller. What’s up with that? I thought there was an influx of single women in Manhattan. Why do all of them seem to be pregnant or breast-feeding? I’m sick and tired of it. And they are all over 35. I’ll tell you that. They are not young.

And the fathers in their plaid shorts and flip-flops are so attentive, they really piss me off.

Not to mention, the kids are brats. On the bus, on the train, on the street, in restaurants. The kids don’t shut the fuck up. Their parents or nannies let them be loud and disrupt the whole place. Whatever happened to, “Children should be seen and not heard.” Whatever happened to that? That’s how I was brought up. If I made a peep in a public place, I’d get my head handed to me. Right there. In the public place. And then again when we got home.

Now, the children run the roost. We value their opinion. Why? They’re two! What the hell do they know? They don’t even know right and wrong. They’re never taught it.

Time out my ass.

And I’ve learned not to go to a restaurant at six o’clock. If you do, you’re in for family night. Frumpy Mom, hot Dad, screaming two-year-old, breast-feeding infant. So much for a relaxing dinner.

I hate them and I think they should be banned from restaurants, along with the people who bring their dogs out to eat.