{bazima.com}

I was thinking. If Mayor Bloomberg really wants to improve the quality of life around here he should put a cap on the maximum size baby stroller one is allowed to badly navigate up and down Park Slope's 7th Avenue.

You can't get past these kid carrying monster trucks and god forbid you're walking in front of one. You should see the scars on my heels. The colossal carriages take up the entire sidewalk and come with a parental license to not have to pay attention to pedestrians.

I was also thinking that if Mother Nature loves us even the tiniest bit (and we'd be lucky if she does) she would forgive us all the harm we've done to her if we promise to be better. And to show her forgiveness and a little understanding she would make summer on the East Coast last through February because this time we really fucking deserve it.

And then I thought (as I often do) vibrators aren't enough. For those weeks and months that go by during which I'm not seeing any sweet action, it would be really good if some brilliant and sympathetic psychopharmacologist developed an anti-depressant that I could stick in my chocha.