Me, in Chris’ glasses.

[Larger.]

Reflected, that is, not wearing. At Lake Roland last weekend. If you wonder if Maryland is a Southern state, the park is named after Robert E. Lee. Yeah.

And it’s full of dog poop. Poopheads. Chris stepped in poop while we were behind a family with a dog. It was not them or anything, but he loudly shouted about yuppies who can’t clean up their dog’s poop. (And he is 100% right.) Then, ten minutes later, the big ole mom let their dog lay some wet turds right next to the lake’s edge. And left it there. No wonder they had to close the park some years back, and no wonder it smells like dog poop whenever I go there.

I went to Druid Hill this weekend instead. Screw all those whities at Lee. Had more fun over on the feared West Side. Druid Hill Park is so nice these days, and it’s in (not merely run by) THE CITY. Yeah, I know. I’m a bigot. Seriously, though, the poop at Robert E. Lee park nearly ruins it. And I like dogs.

And poop.