Writing Boots

A post, without photo or video, from a prominent public radio personality whose identity I will politely conceal:

"Cuteness alert: children playing with kittens along Amalfi waterfront."

I haven't read a more obnoxious Facebook post since … last week, when another Friend wrote, "Today I got paid to think. How cool is that?"

These kinds of posts put me in mind of "Tim," an enraged dry-drunk counselor at a drug treatment clinic I, er, visited as a teenager.

So weary of my callow sarcasm was he that he pointed his index finger—amputated down to the first knuckle, I'd be remiss not to add—at my nose and screamed, "You need to see yourself as other people see you!"

I wish I knew Tim's last name; I'd Friend him on Facebook.

I'm now being followed on Twitter by a moon shadow who claims in his bio, "I am passionate about helping others achieve their business goals."

Let's break this down: How could someone be "passionate" … about helping random other people … achieve unspecified "business goals"?

So I asked him, via a direct message.

He came back, "Blending technology, psychology, statistics, sales and creativity to win customers at low cost!"

Consultant, spiel thyself.