Some weeks ago I was sitting at the co-op, ignoring my child and reading an old issue of the Onion. I like to read Savage Love, because it's funny and well-written, and also because it uses a lot of words I a) don't know; and b) am too embarrassed to look up. I hope if I keep reading it, one day I'll find out what they mean.
That particular edition brought me this gem, from the obituary of Dear Abby:
Dear Abby: Two men who claim to be father and adopted son just bought an old mansion across the street and fixed it up. We notice a very suspicious mixture of company coming and going at all hours — blacks, whites, Orientals, women who look like men and men who look like women. This has always been considered one of the finest sections of San Francisco, and these weirdos are giving it a bad name. How can we improve the neighborhood? — Nob Hill Residents
Dear Residents: You could move.