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Monday, April 28, 2008

I am filled with hate

I hate drama, the little people who make it, spread and deny it, the elderly, the young, the rich, the poor, I hate skittles commercials, Kinko's employees (Do they only hire retards?) people who insist they need two spaces for their car instead of one, passive aggressive communications (text Messaging!) Mothers fawning over their babies, babies who cry, babies in public, the thought of babies, smiling babies, vegetarians (Too easy?) proud meat eaters, people who change their minds after agreeing to something months ago that was their idea in the first place, clowns, comics who do magic-juggling, DMV paper work, drunk people who yell at you that they are not drunk, women who knowingly send mixed signals because they can, men who use gallons of aftershave, any axe product, all the hype for Iron Man, salad, spring mattresses, looking for a new apartment, dreams with X-Girlfriends in them, X-girlfriends, the letter X, Racer X, the term-X marks the spot, x-rays, anyone who spends more than 30 seconds at the milk counter at starbucks after they got their coffee, MUNI buses that were never there when I was riding them but are now always there when I am pulling out of a drive way, any joke about Brittney Spears, anyone who truly thinks Hanna Montana isn't going down the same path, tea drinkers, that stuff in the corners of old peoples mouth (I think it's spite) almost all Facebook applications now, obviously Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, some Saturdays and especially Sundays, 8 of the 12 months, CNN, FOX, NPR, getting sucked into Law & Order marathons and then wondering what happened to my day, really pretty girls who are as dumb as they are hot, dumb girls who think they are hot, older women trying to be young girls, not so hot girls dressing like they are, Myspace error messages, commercials for movies now available on Blue Ray for twice the price it was to buy a ticket to see it when it was in the theaters, people who constantly talk about their work in the third person ("we just finished this project...") anytime my Mother starts to whisper, mixed nuts, old lady perfume, 80's songs used for commercials, not sleeping and staring at the clock thinking I will still get four hours if I fall asleep now, lists like this, top ten lists, books of lists, people who laugh while paging through books of lists, homeless guys in better shoes than I have asking for change, paper cuts, dry skin, becoming immune to porn, any story that starts out with, "My girlfriend and I just love the...", really cold drinks hurting my teeth, really hot drinks burning my lips, really old chap stick, car troubles of any kind, lint covered candy that still looks like it might be good, getting older, scratching an itch that doesn't feel better afterwards, random memories of times you don't want to think about popping into your head for no good reason at all, stale root beer, bad sushi, anyone over the age of 12 that regularly says "Oh my God!" and most likely, YOU!

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

awwww.... does somebody need a hug?? heheheheh.... I can hear a tappity-tap (or at least a mental tappity-tap) of fingers amending a list to include "people who ask you if you need a hug..." I hate that! ;)

OHhhhh... and btw... last night I was doing the stare at the clock thing... I HATE THAT! And I always do the mental calculations of 'how much sleep I can get, if I fall asleep now' thing too. It's nights like those that have me reevaluating what my coffee cut off time should be!

Dean said...

Geez, who shit in your cornflakes this morning? S'matta, Joe, tried to fill up your gas tank?

Unknown said...

Hey Joe,

Wow...didn't know how much you and I had in common. Of course, most people will say at the age of 27 I've no right to be this way. But I am how I am and I never apologize for it. The truth for me is...I am so lonely sometimes that everything gets on my nerves. I don't know what it is for you. But I am sorry that you share my outlook, because I know how distraught I get over it sometimes.