... onto the breach, dear friends. Because I'm getting tired of thinking up new ways of saying: pic-dump!
In the above set there are two men who have no experience with holding kids. I might set up a seperate webadress for pics of such ilk. Millions of women will finally have something to laugh at ...
Today we were visited by someone from the 'consultatie bureau'. Let's call 'em Baby-checkers-R-us. They do shots and check-ups and hearing tests and such. It's a government service. This specific specimen of baby Checker (TM) was, or, most likely, still is a heinous bitch that introduced herself to me with her job, walked past me to the kitchen to wash her hands, was aware of the fact that I still have two weeks of holiday left and, more in general, was a miserable old bat.
Who introduces him/herself with his/her job anyway? Isn't doing that sort of the same as saying as: 'I really have no life, no friends and no personality beyond my cubicle?' At the least it's an excellent way of shoving any form of personality resolutely to the side and once you're no longer a person in your job the road is clear for making hideous decisions on a daily basis. This, of course, is basis for immediate and deep-running mistrust.
Inserted black letters to get spaces. Blogger has an off day.
By the way, the whole notion that we're 'registered' and that people have the idea that they can waltz in here without taking into account proper decorum is quite odious. I shall pay more attention to such tricks and shit in the future.