In other, OT news, Jessica Seinfeld bugs the shit out of me. She seems like one of those sanctimonious One Percent super-mommies who's always one-upping you on the PTA and has her kids chauffeured to school in an Escalade, which blocks the crosswalk in front of the school so the other students have to walk in traffic. Also, vegetables hidden in normal food. Also, plagiarist.
Look, kids, this is America. If you want to sell lemonade, you don't put up an unregulated stand. You grease the wheels with the local officials, sell franchises, establish supply lines with countries that are more flexible about slave labor, and skim money from the franchisees to the point where they need to exploit their workers to stay profitable, then you just sit back and relax as the money rolls in.
And if any pesky government officials start nosing around remember these words: "I have no recollection..." and "I can't answer any questions without speaking to my attorney..."
No municipal official wants to get these calls. Ever. Every locality has its own bylaws, and it sounds as if this was simply a matter of getting a permit. However, what usually happens around these parts in cases where they're required to act is the "lemonade stand" has gone beyond mixing lemon-flavored sugar and water. But trust me on this if nothing else: nobody wants to be the guy or gal on the front page of the local, let alone See-Fucking-EnEn, shutting down the kiddies. But health laws (the operable code(s); my assumption) are nothing to sneeze at.
Stupid kids. HERE'S how you run a lemonade stand (especially as a young one-percenter):
Because Hamptons. Neither being white nor being fabulously wealthy nor being a famous celebrity are enough to set you apart from the usual crowd.
Oh dear no, people don't actually live in The Hamptons, at least not past Labor Day anyway.
You'd expect Seinfeld's kid to open a Stand Up Stand. Jokes: 5¢. Funny jokes: $1.
I will be the scrooge and say I have no problem with this. They are not on their own property.
In other, OT news, Jessica Seinfeld bugs the shit out of me. She seems like one of those sanctimonious One Percent super-mommies who's always one-upping you on the PTA and has her kids chauffeured to school in an Escalade, which blocks the crosswalk in front of the school so the other students have to walk in traffic. Also, vegetables hidden in normal food. Also, plagiarist.
Get off the Blobfish lawn!!
Look, kids, this is America. If you want to sell lemonade, you don't put up an unregulated stand. You grease the wheels with the local officials, sell franchises, establish supply lines with countries that are more flexible about slave labor, and skim money from the franchisees to the point where they need to exploit their workers to stay profitable, then you just sit back and relax as the money rolls in.
And if any pesky government officials start nosing around remember these words: "I have no recollection..." and "I can't answer any questions without speaking to my attorney..."
Don't forget, you borrow $20,000 from your parents to start the lemonade stand.
No municipal official wants to get these calls. Ever. Every locality has its own bylaws, and it sounds as if this was simply a matter of getting a permit. However, what usually happens around these parts in cases where they're required to act is the "lemonade stand" has gone beyond mixing lemon-flavored sugar and water. But trust me on this if nothing else: nobody wants to be the guy or gal on the front page of the local, let alone See-Fucking-EnEn, shutting down the kiddies. But health laws (the operable code(s); my assumption) are nothing to sneeze at.
The Fashion Police are notably laissez-faire in the Hamptons.
No word on the whereabouts of the chocolate babka.
Killing joke: your life.
I wish I had enough money to be able to afford to sell lemonade in the Hamptons. I sure wouldn't spend it living in the Hamptons, though.
John Stossel should spend the rest of his life living in 3rd world living conditions, then he might see where his tax dollars are really effective.
#NotAllLemonade