Monday, October 31, 2005

It's the Great I Hate You, Charlie Brown

...You wear a Halloween costume to work. Um yeah, you’re 45 right? the last time I checked, this is actually an office, not romparoom. And how bout that costume, I’ve never seen anyone dress up like a cat before, quite creative. The makeup on your nose is one thing, but those adorable little wiskers, it’s just the cutest little thing. And what a nice tribute to dress up like all your kids, and when I say kids I mean your cats you psychotic old lady, I hate you.

...You are two crazy Russian chicks attending a dork convention. Just because I’m young and live in NY doesn’t mean I’m down with your ve vant to daunce, you vill come vith us. You have no idea how scared I was of you or what crazy place you’d drag me to, and why me? I’m not sure what’s more disturbing, the fact that I actually vent out vith you two or that at one point you stole a bum’s guitar and starting singing in Russian? It’s no wonder I ran all the way back to the hotel to escape the obvious spell you were casting on people, it’s a good thing too because now I can still hate you.

...You come up to me at a party and make suggestions for I hate you blogs. I get it, you hate people too, you have THE best idea for a blog, it’s soooo funny. What makes you think I’ll remember? Or that it was even worthy? For that, you are now blogged and hated of course.

...You say to make long story short after you’ve already given the long story. Do you even understand the purpose of your words? Do you know the meaning of anything? No, you don't, you’ve told the long story, you haven’t made it short, you’ve given every possible detail that I’d never want to know, twice. If this is short, what the hell is the long version? Wait, nevermind I don’t want to know. To make a long a story short, I hate you.

...You hold a conference in California and hold me hostage during every last bit of daylight. Is this supposed to be a treat or a cruel joke? Let’s invite everyone out to Cali then lock em up in boring lectures all day about mind numbing topics like the tax code….literally. Yes, let’s have these conferences in great locations and then not let you take advantage of any of it. perfect, you suck.com I hate you.

...You are waiting to order cold cuts at the supermarket and don't understand that you need to take a number. Do you see that huge sign with a number on it that changes every 30 seconds or so? what do you think that is? Or how about when the person behind the counter shouts out a number and then someone responds giving their order, does that mean nothing to you? Is this some sort of cat and mouse game just to make the process interesting? No, of course not, here take your number, notice how it's not a number at all, it just says I hate you.

...You start an arguement over the rules to a drinking game. First of all why are we still playing beer pong? we're like 30. Second, why are the rules so detailed as to cause an arguement on whether or not you rack em at 6 AND 3 or just 6? well here's a new rule, I hate you.

3 comments:

jessie said...

people must have really empty lives to wear a costume to work. wherever did you meet these freaky russian chicks? that had to be wierd.
i can relate to the deli situation, this past weekend some guy blurted out his order and when he was told to take a number he got angry because he was standing there for some 15 minutes. HAHA dummy! ya know!

elvira black said...

A dork convention? Nice!

Doofi said...

a dork convention is where people tell jokes about the tax code, don't ask. perhaps I should hire one to read to me right now seeing as its 1 in the morning, i can't sleep and i'm reading my own blog for new hate ideas even though 1000's are waiting in the hopper. I hate that i have to type a secret code word to post a comment on my own blog. I hate that I have every premium cable channel and everything on there is shit. I hate that i have on demand and it never works. I hate that I got drunk today and now can't read myself to sleep. I hate that I'm still typing this comment.