Friday, December 29, 2006

The Hate is back in town

…You ask me to bring you something I’ve been working on for you to review and get an update. I diligently drop this by your office. You decide to look at it tomorrow at which point you ask me to bring you what I’ve been working on for you to review. Is this fucking groundhog day? Why is your life so much more important than mine that you can’t bother to keep two pieces of paper on your desk? Perhaps you would like me to bring you something else I’ve been working on for review, it’s called my hate of you.

…You send me a calendar as a Christmas gift. Wow, another calendar, well thank you for such a thoughtful gift, no one has ever sent me a calendar with their company logo before, how personal. It’s times like these that we really cherish our friends and colleagues, I mean to take the time to add my name and address to your company’s holiday gift mailing list, really means more than you could ever know and I hate you more than you could ever know.

…You postpone a meeting with me but wait until I show up at your office to tell me because you are apparently just too important for me. Why even schedule a meeting at all? You tell me you want to meet, I say okay when, you tell me to get on your calendar with your assistant, I say okay, I schedule for 10AM, I show up, you say you are just too busy to make time for 15 minute meeting, I say okay, you tell me to come back at noon, even though I’ll be ravenously starving, I say okay, at noon you tell me you will come by my office when you have time, I say okay, you show up at my office as I’m shutting down my computer at 6, I say I hate you.

…You talk about an old person as though he’s not in the room when in reality he’s sitting right next to you. They may have some of the same requirements as a 2 year old, such as diaper changing and drooling, but the old folks can still hear you and still understand what you are saying. It doesn’t do you any good to spell things out, they’re old, not illiterate. Maybe I’ll start spelling things out so you can’t understand, I-H-A-T-E-Y-O-U.

…You use words like obsequiously. Yeah we get, you went to law school, look at you, you’re so smart with your smarty talk. Well this ain’t the LSAT, this ain’t law school, this ain’t “a motion”, but this is certainly hate.

…You are in a store and need assistance, you see me and ask if I can help you. Do I look like I work here? I guess you didn’t notice when I was standing right next to you and asked the person that actually does work there to check to see if they have something for me? I guess when I first told you that I don’t work there didn’t quite sink in either because you asked me 3 more times. Ok yes, now I do work here and now I hate you here.

…You are a 20 year guy that works in Victoria’s Secret. Why do you know so much about bras? If you were gay, I would maybe understand, but you look like an idiot teen-ager with acne, yet your knowledge of women’s brassieres is remarkable. At what point do you say to yourself, I want to sell bras? Wait a minute, I think you found a loophole in the system and I think you just found a loophole in my hate.

…You are running for a bus when you are about 20 feet from the bus stop and the bus hasn’t even gotten there yet. Did you miss the 10 other people waiting at the stop? You must be afraid it’s just going to keep on going ignoring the route and schedule. I guess the other bus directly behind it wasn’t enough assurance that you would get on one of them, but it was enough assurance that you would get on my hate.

…You claim that the average wait time between trains on the subway is less than 5 minutes. That apparently does not apply to any subway trains I’ve ever taken which seem to require 15 minute waits. The average time isn’t exactly an indicator of realistic waits, for whatever reason 4 trains will come one immediately after another with less than 20 seconds of wait time, then as soon as I get there, 30 minutes go by for the next one. Take the average of the 5 wait times and you get less than 5 minutes and then you get my hate.

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Hate is the house; hate is in your mouth

…You are on the subway towards the middle of the train as people are exiting, you remain where you are until the last person has exited the train, then in that split second before people bum rush for the one open seat, you decide to move right up front to the entrance thereby blocking everyone from getting on the train. It’s a pole position to exit the train at the next stop, not even the current stop. This will then save a total of half of one second, that extra half second could total about 3 extra minutes a year. Think about what you can do with that extra three minutes. How about this? Logon to, read today’s post and see that you are hated

…You have a name that starts with L or M or N. I guess you just don’t really want me to call you do you? I mean that extra 10 seconds it takes me to scroll to find your name is so crucial in determining if I should call you or if I should just simply hate you.

…You dial into a conference call 20 minutes late after a 19 minutes rambling by one of the participants. You then wait until the entire call is over another 20 minutes later, then ask to recap the first half of the call which somehow now takes 25 minutes because we’ve spent the additional 5 minutes hating you.

…You say you want to tag team something. Note how I have said something, not someone. The phrase tag team brings one thing to mind and it has nothing to do with work. Perhaps my mind is so deep in the gutter, but people please, stop using words that represent a dirty, yet elusive, act, then and only then will I stop hating you.

…You are under the age of decrepit old lady and are using a basket with wheels to carry your groceries, your laundry, your purse or even an empty basket. Is it really that difficult to carry two bags? Try functioning like an actual human being and I try hating you.

…You enter the bathroom, wash your hands, then proceed to a stall where you blow your nose. Next you return to the sink to wash your hands, just in case, then return to the very same stall, this time to build your crow’s nest. Your crow’s nest, however, is different than conventional wisdom would have us believe, you crumple paper into little balls, 7 to be exact, you then strategically place them around the seat of the stall, placing 3 paper seat thingys (yes that is the technical term) over the balls of paper as if to create a cushion for your fat ass that hangs over the sides. Once the nest is fully secure, you return to the sink for another wash. After your wash, it’s back to the stall for some dirty work. 45 minutes later, you emerge from stall after having given 3 flushes to ole poop catcher. You wash your hands, dry them, then grab 4 paper towels to act as a hand condom protecting you from my hate as you open the door.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Hate of Endearment

…You chime in on an email chain that took place 3 days ago. You see, in the real world, everyone is slacking off at work, emailing their friends and responding within seconds to a conversation that’s occurring. But let me set this in terms that you might be able to understand. Say you get a pony express message from a distant friend that lives a whole 10 miles away. Well when the horse and messenger arrive, you immediately read the message and reply while the messenger is there so that 7 days from now, your friend will get the message and then you will get my hate.

…You reset your alarm as soon as you wake up regardless of whether or not it’s a Friday or you’re going away for three weeks or you’re a dirty stay out. Alarms are to be set right before you go to bed, not right when you wake up, there’s a good chance you won’t be there in the morning to turn it off at which point an unsuspecting roommate has to turn it off or a poor innocent neighbor has to hear a beeping sound from 6AM to 9AM at which point that neighbor has to break into your apartment just to hate you.

…You see that I order mozzarella sticks and you say oh that sounds good, but then don’t order them for yourself. I know you are just going sit there while I eat mine and you will drool until I offer you one, then since there are only three we will both sit there staring at the last one, me feeling guilty for eating something you want even though I’m the one that ordered it and you sitting there thinking that you’d really like to have the last one, but don’t want to be rude forgetting that you already are. In the end the waiter ends up taking away the last one while I end up hating you.

…You stand 3 feet away from the urinal while peeing. So you may have a stream that can reach for majority of your urination, but at some point the faucet will run dry and it will taper off to a mere dribble at which point you are now just peeing on the floor and on yourself and on my hate.

…You are at the gym and are apparently wearing the same clothes for well over a month without washing them. The entire treadmill area smells so repugnant, I dry heaved while running 7 times and held my breathe for the last two minutes which still cut my run short. How on earth are you not throwing up from your own smell? I’d rather be a hair on the ass of the nastiest bum in NY on a 100 degree July afternoon than to have to run next to you one second longer without hating you.

…You place your gym bag on the bench at the gym and then place your sneakers right next to them. Please go right ahead your majesty, us peasant folk will sit on the floor to tie our shoes while your stank ass sneakers can in no way be placed on the floor, no, they belong right there on the bench so no one can use it while in the presence of royalty and in the presence of hate.

…You are a credit card company that receives my payment in the form of a check (don’t ask me why I sent a check in the first place), you don’t cash it for over a month, then turn off my charging privileges so I call and state that I will pay online, you say you will return my check to me, then once I’ve paid online you decide to cash the check. When I paid online I should have just accepted the fact that my check would definitely be cashed and if I didn’t pay online I should have accepted that I would definitely hate you.

…You drive a Saturn. Please oh please have some self respect will you? I don’t care if you are not loaded and can’t afford a beamer, but a Saturn? I would rather drive a bicycle with training wheels than a Saturn. And by chance you are enough of a tool to own and drive said Saturn, well then you must never speak of it, you must never tell a story that involves your Saturn, especially to me when other people might be within earshot of your patheticness. You must never admit to driving one when someone asks what kind of car you have and must never forget that you are hated by me.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Standing in line to see the hate tonight

…You refer to basic education as the three R’s. Reading, okay, yes this starts with an R. Writing, you’re starting to lose me here, but at least it sounds like an R. Arithmetic, so apparently just having an R in the word makes “the three R’s”. If we can’t even name our education, how is anyone supposed to learn, and what about science? And what about hate?

…You are my new girlfriend that is always traveling and has only met a few of my friends. So now everyone thinks I have a girlfriend in the Niagra falls region, oh you wouldn’t know her, she’s not from around here. I swear she does in fact exist, just as I do in fact hate.

…You speak another language and then talk about me in that language right in front of me. You look at me, then turn to your friend speaking Tokyo talk of some sort, then laugh and laugh like it was the funniest thing in the world. So I know you are talking about me, subtlety is not a subject in which you excel. I’m right here, I can tell it’s about me and I can tell you’re about hate.

…You are the prick that decided handbags should now cost no less than $1500 and that all girls should want them for 30 days of use only to then store in the closet for all of eternity. Master marketing is what I call the a holes that created the handbag industry, they’re fucking bags ladies, Duane Reade gives out bags for free and I give out hate for free.

…You are on the phone, I come into your office, you hold up one finger giving me the indication that you will be off the phone in 1 minute or less and that I should wait until you are done. You then proceed to stay on the phone for no less than 17 minutes while I waste away waiting for you. I came in to see if you wanted lunch, not if you run a waiting room, I’ve got places to go, things to do and you to hate.

…You have a computer operated phone answering system that asks for my account number, I proceed to enter my account number, I then finally speak to a person and the first question is, may I have your account number? Oh you mean the 16 digit number I just entered for no apparent reason? Sure, I love to waste my time, almost as much as I love to hate you.

…You are looking for something for all of 3 seconds, don’t see it, then claim it’s either lost or stolen. I look for no more than 4 seconds and find it immediately. You see when looking for something that typically involves opening a drawer, a bag, your eyes. I hereby am implementing the 15 second rule, you must actually look for something for no less than 15 seconds before I start to hate you.

…You are at the movies, sitting next to me and think you are entitled to the entire arm rest. Who are you by the way? I can see if maybe I know you, but I’m in the stranger seat, meaning you’re a fucking stranger and my arm wants to rest just as much as you want empty those milk duds down your esophagus. This is a shared arm space my friend and by shared, I mean mine and by mine, I mean I hate you.

…You are at the movies and think that just because it’s a preview you can still speak at normal conversation levels. I think we all know the previews are the absolute best part of the movie, I pay just to go see previews and then bounce from theater to theater watching only the previews and then leaving, I have a blog about it called where I review the best previews. So the moral of the story here is that if you check that link, you are an idiot and if you talk during the previews, you are hated.

…You say you don’t want anything for Christmas and then when I get you nothing, you cry. I’ve explicitly said I am getting you something for Christmas, you insist that I should not, I argue, we fight, I concede and do as you wish. Here’s comes Christmas and lo and behold I have no gift for you and you bitch and bitch and moan and did I mention bitch? Well this year is different, this I picked your gift out long ago, you know what it is? I’ll give you a hint, it starts with hate and ends with you.

…You say we are not exchanging gifts for Christmas this year, me, thinking that’s a perfect idea because all we get is crap, I buy you nothing and instead buy myself a gift. You, you go out and spend 100 bucks on shit in a box (I mean literal shit in a box), wrap it and pass it off as a gift to me. I then have to return the “gesture” by hating you.

…You come by my office and make a joke, it’s kind of funny, so I’ll laugh to be nice because I rarely give anyone the satisfaction of laughing at their jokes. The next day, you come by my office and make the same joke, you proceed to make the same joke for the next 49 days in a row until finally I pretend I had a horrible accident where I can no longer understand only those words that make up your joke, oddly enough this accident has also caused my hate for you.

…You are annoyed that it’s been about 2 weeks since my last post and this month has had limited hate. Here’s a memo, the hater’s found himself a hatetress and is off in la la land, so give me a fucking break, and give me a couple more weeks and then I’ll give you hate.

Friday, November 17, 2006

An Inconvenient Hate

…You are announced as the new secretary of defense and touted to have an amazing photographic memory, then upon giving your acceptance speech you proceed to take your written speech and read it. If by photographic memory you mean, capable of reading a piece of paper, well then yes of course you have great memory, and so do I and does every other person on the planet because reading is not memory, but hating is you.

…You have a new girlfriend or boyfriend and suddenly you are no where to be found. Oh so when you’re single everyone is your best friend because you have nothing better to do. But now, now you’re suddenly too good for everyone else, you cut yourself off, who needs to be bothered with keeping in touch with friends now. then 3 months go by and your single again, now you call and now you’re hated.

…You see someone in the hall or elevator and tell them you just emailed them. I think they’ll figure that out when they get back to their computer and see that you sent a pointless email that says, I’m going to call you in 10 minutes. Then 10 minutes go by and the person calls you and says, I’m sending you an email about such and such. So now you’ve stopped me in the hall to tell me you emailed me to tell me you are calling me in 10 minutes to tell me you are going to email me and then read the content of the email. You really missed the whole point technological advances, yet something tells me you will not miss the point of my hate.

…You read my blog then steal my ideas and write articles for NY newspapers with all the same ideas. You have to be stealing my ideas, I mean this blog soooo original that no one else could ever possibly think of hating the exact same thing. There’s only 8 million people in this city, realistically what are the odds, not very good I might say. And realistically, what are the odds I hate you? Very good I might say.

…You are a hipster on the L train coming in from the burg and are reading Bukowski, wearing an army green jacket, messed up hair with a two day old beard and have gone 3 days without showering. Could you be any more cliché? Yes actually you can by wearing black chuck taylors. You are no longer creative or original when you look like every other emo 20 something whose life is just so hard and tragic because you over analyze every little detail of your self indulgent life and every little detail of my hate.

…You issue a number for waiting in line at saaaay, the DMV, the number you issue is 763 and you are now serving number 4. Why are you still even open? You are giving a false sense of hope to the 761 Mexicans waiting in line. And why is everyone at the DMV Mexican? I have no problem with Mexicans, but they are disproportionately represented every time I’m there wasting away my youth just to have my picture taken and just to hate you.

…You are waiting for your number to be called at the DMV and you wait until the next number is called to finally go up to the counter. So you’re number 4, they call number 4, you sit, they call number 4, you sit, they call number 4 you sit. Frustrated, they move on, they call number 5, I go to the counter, then you come up and say, I’m number 4 you called number. I’m sorry lady but when they call your number for 5 minutes, and you don’t show up, well your window has passed and my hate has started.

…You are an old lady and smell like moth balls. I think someone stored you in the attic or basement all summer along with a bag of moth balls. I’m wondering if moth balls are still even in existence and where you managed to find such items. Has technology not advanced enough to rid the world of moth balls forever? Have you not advanced enough to rid the world of my hate?

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Give me liberty or give me hate

...You are a volunteer poll worker. You are no younger than 97 and think you know everyone that is there to vote, but then you ask for ID and don't understand alphabetical order, meaning can't check off that a person has voted or that a person has hated.

...You are a "leading" anti-gay activist yet you pay for gay sex and have an alleged meth habit. So let me get this straight (pun intended), you are the founder of one of the largest cults in this country, some christian group, you speak out about the sins of them gays, and you are so conflicted and brainwashed that you can't accept who you are so you get high on one of the drugs you claim to fight then pay men to have sex and somehow manage to look people in the eye and tell them they are hated, just like you.

...You are Joe Lieberman. You fucking little mopey republican. You lost the support of your party, but rather than sticking to your ideals and being a man, you abandon your party to keep your job. I guess we know what really matters to holy Joe, only Joe matters, but now, my hate matters.

...You refuse to make election day a national holiday or have it on the weekend or have rolling polls that end today. Hmmm, what better way to keep poor people from voting, make it a Tuesday, they're too busy tied to their minimum wage jobs working 15 hours a day to make the same thing I make in 10 minutes, it's good to be a white male and it's good to be hated.

...You claim to the party of the moral majority, but somehow, you're the party of closeted gays, corrupt politicians, oil barons, war mongers, and the richest people in the country. You are even more hated if you vote for the theives and don't see through their hypocrisy. You don't even have to know how to read to know these guys are in this for themselves and in this for the hate.

...You refuse to vote for raising the minimum wage but feel absolutely no shame in voting for an increase in your 6 figure salary for passing laws that make you even richer. Can we make being a Congressman a volunteer position? I mean you work about 6 days year to debate gay marriage and baseball, send poor kids to die then I vote to hate you.

...You feel you need to make a case that it is okay to torture people. Then when it comes time to pass a bill on this, you having been tortured yourself, decide you'd rather vote for this knowing that it doesn't work, that it violated the constitution that wipes my ass the so called freedom you are protecting, you'd rather vote for that than lose a couple percentage points on a presidential election 2 years away that you are going to lose because you are now hated.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Her name is Rio and she dances by my hate

…You are in an ATM vestibule, you see me fumbling through cards to try and open the magic door, yet you refuse to simply open the door for me. Do you think I really don’t have an ATM card and I’m somehow scamming you into opening the door so that once it’s open I’ll what? rob you of the $40 you just took got? Not to mention it’s broad daylight and there 3 other people fumbling through their pockets looking for their cards trying not to hate you.

…You are talking or giving some kind of lecture and get the little white spittle on the sides of your mouth, then you don’t wipe it off. Why are you foaming at the mouth? I don’t know about anyone else, but if I feel even the slightest bit of frothiness I have the common decency to TCB. When you finally do take the half of second to wipe it off, do me, nay, do us ALL a favor and don’t fling across the room leaving the probable chance that it will make direct contact with skin and direct contact with my hate.

…You are a bicycle delivery guy. You only appear the moment I step off the curb into the street as though you emerged out of thin air. You give a warning sign that mimics the sounds of a pleasant bird, but you, you are not pleasant. You are moving at speeds that challenge the sound barrier, yet somehow manage to carry 7 bags in each arm and a pizza box all the while being hated by me.

…You are driving and see that a person is in the crosswalk with a don’t walk sign and then speed up. So let’s get this straight, you are driving along at a normal pace, you see someone 300 feet ahead of you that will easily make it across the street if only you can maintain the same speed, as would be expected. Instead, you have the genius idea to speed up so that the person barely makes it across. Well, you really showed that person. I mean how dare they attempt to “disrespect” you by walking across the street, it’s time you teach them a lesson with attempted murder and my attempted hate.

…You are too good to take the subway and must take cabs everywhere. What’s the matter you can’t go underground for a few minutes and stand next to the “common folk”? One of them might look at you after all and we wouldn’t want that would we, certainly not. Only the privileged are allowed to look at you or be in your presence, but everyone can certainly hate you.

…You honk your horn in standstill traffic. Hmmm, we’re not moving, how can I get everyone to move because my life is so much more important than anyone else’s. I have an idea, I’ve seen this before, it never seems to work, but I think in this case it just might. I’ll lean on my horn so that everyone in a three block radius can hear. Then when I’m done, I’ll honk it some more and then when 5 minutes have passed and we haven’t moved, I’ll get hated.

...You have an alarm for your car. If there is anything more unnecessary or wasteful on this planet, it’s a car alarm. The first thing a car thief does is disable the alarm, it does absolutely nothing. The only time the alarm even goes off is when someone stands within 3 feet of your car, because apparently now you own the space around car, that’s yours because your 1995 Nissan needs to be protected and my hate needs to be given.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Nightmare on Hate Street

...You are a woman and don't anderstand that your costume must start with the word sexy. You must understand that this is your night, your night to be a little whore, the little whore that you so badly want to be but are just a little afraid on any other day. You are cat? No no no you are a sexy cat. You are a witch? Think again you are a sexy witch. You are a Wearwolf, well now your just hated.

...You are a woman and have no business dressing up as sexy anything yet you still do. Can we please leave this to the girls that are actually sexy? Having a gunt and muffin tops does make sexy, I'm sorry it only makes hate.

...You are 17 and think you can still roam the streets begging for candy. When you are able to get your own job and buy your own candy, you longer have the privelage of going door to door with a stop & shop bag asking me to give you candy, if you do, I will only give you hate.

...You run out of candy and start emptying your cabinets and refridgerator of all the shit you no longer want. A three week old onion does qualify as treat, that's more of a trick in my book and the 7 year old canned peaches is more of a hate in my book.

...You ring my doorbell on Halloween to allegedly ask for candy, yet you are too cool to say trick or treat. Unless you say the magic words, I assume that I hate you.

...You don't wear a costume to a costume party. Maybe you didn't get the memo but costume party means you fucking dress up, you see everyone else that looks likes a retard? It's your turn and it's your hate.

...You dress up in a costume for work when no one else is wearing one and in fact, everyone else is wearing suits because you work in one of the last 3 companies that requires people to wear suits. Yeah this isn't fucking ramparoom here, we're so called adults here. I see Billy, and Susie, and Johnny, and Jenny, and HATE.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

How hated are you?

1. On a down escalator you

A. Walk down the stairs to move along as fast as you can to ensure you to hold up people behind you.
B. Walk down until you get behind someone then give up because you for whatever reason can't rudely say the words excuse me to get by the person in front of you.
C. Step onto the escalator and stand as it carries your lazy ass down a flight a stairs.
D. Take the evelator.

2. When entering a subway you

A. Patiently wait to the side of the doors for people to exit the train and upon the last person to get out, you then allow the cute girl to go ahead of you then proceed to enter.
B. Stand in everyone's way while they try to exit the train, waiting nonetheless, but being a complete nuissance to every person in front of you, then enter the train.
C. Stand to the side of the doors then try to sneak in to race to the only open seat because god forbid you should have to stand.
D. Bum rush the people exiting the train then upon entering the train, stand right by the doors not moving for the people exiting and never moving for the people trying enter.

3. When stopped at a red light you

A. Watch the other side for when it turns yellow and are prepared to hit the gas even before the light actually turns green.
B. Wait patiently for the light to turn green then go.
C. Look everywhere except at the light then when the light turns green and your picking your nose, you take your sweet ass time to finally move thereby keeping at least two cars from making the light.
D. Wait through at least half of the green light before you realize that it's green, then drive at less than 5 miles an hour through the light because the entire world operates and waits for your sole existance.

4. When walking on a sidewalk you

A. Stay to the right hand side mindful of people walking the opposite way you ensure that you leae enough room for people to pass.
B. Walk next to your friend creating a mini wall making it difficult for people to pass.
C. Walk three or people across at a slower pace than people moving backwards, then get annoyed when someone bumps into you.
D. Find as many people as possible, walk next to them at the same pace creating a wall of impassable people then when someone is walking in the opposite direction you refuse to move and watch as the other person stops mid stride so that you bump into them and wonder what the hell this crazy person is doing when in reality it is you that is crazy because you don't understand the concept of a sidewalk where people other than you walk.

5. In a bar you

A. Enjoy the time with your friends, understand the subtlety of getting a bartenders attention, chat it up with the occasional CG, tip well and play good music on the juke.
B. Demand the bartenders attention by making some obnoxious cat call and flashing a $100 bill even though your miller lite is only 6 bucks, think the hot girl wants to talk to you and think you can call fives on a bar stool.
C. Wear your sunglasses
D. Ask me for a cigarette, then ask for another one, then demand another, then think whenever I go for a smoke that you get to have one, then say you are going to get ghetto on my ass when I tell you there is a store across the street that has all the cigarettes you can buy.

6. In the men's room you

A. Use the stalls or urinals on the ends first, do what you need to do, don't speak to anyone, wash your hands when done, throw your paper towel in the trash and then exit.
B. Use the urinal next to me and flush before you're finished peeing thereby leaving a little yellow pool in the urinal for the next person to see and smell.
C. Use the stall next to me when all the others are open, groan and grunt while trying to crap out the fast food you ate for lunch and leave a skid mark in the bowl when done.
D. Use the urinal next to someone, make an inappropriate comment such as, hey there big boy, don't fluch, manage to pee on the floor and leave a 5 inch pubic hair on top of the urinal. You then don't flush and quickly exit the men's room without washing your hands.

7. In the gym you

A. Use the equipment in a non excessive manner, always wear a towel in the locker room and
B. You stay on a treadmill beyond the 30 minute limit during peak hours even though there is a sign right in front of you that says 30 minute time limit during peak hours, not to mention you are walking and talking on your cell phone.
C. You wear a tank top going from weight machine to weight machine where the girls are lifting asking if you can work in then brag about your job as a bouncer.
D. You walk around the locker room naked, then proceed to blow dry your hair, naked, then when getting dressed, you put on your shirt, then socks, then shoes, then your tighty whiteys.

8. In the elevator you

A. See that the button to your floor has already been pushed, think to yourself, hmm this person is going to the same floor as me, then wait patiently moving out of people's way as they enter and exit, then allow the other person to leave first when reaching your floor.
B. Enter the elevator, see that the button to your floor has been pushed, then proceed to push the button 6 more times, accidentally hitting the button to three other floors, then think you are hitting the close doors button but are actually hitting the open doors button and don't understand until someone says something.
C. Enter the elevator don't push any buttons, stand right in the front thereby getting in people's way as they try to exit, ask everytime the elevator stops, is this 28? even though the floor number is lit above the door and as the doors open a huge sign that says the floor number is right in front of you.
D. Enter the elevator, see that there is only one other person standing in the back corner then proceed to stand right next to that person, so close that you are actually touching the other person.

9. On an airplane you

A. Sit quietly in your seat, check your bags and use the rest room only when absolutely necessary because you don't want to bother the very nice, handsome young man sitting in the aisle seat.
B. Carry on a 3 piece matching luggage set that could easily be containing the remains of Andre the giant and three of his clones. You then are baffled why they dont' fit and ask the entire plane to sacrifice their "small personal luggage" space so that you can save 10 minutes when you get off the plane.
C. You request a window seat while knowingly have bladder control issues adn then bother the two people between you and the aisle to get up no less than 13 times during a 2 hour flight.
D. You purchase one seat even though you are the size of three seats, then lift the armrest so that your side fat can expand into the next seat where a normal size individual has purchased the appropriate fare and thought he was going to be able to nap on the flight.

10. At work you

A. Do your job, joke around to break up the day, know the appropriate amount of time to spend in someone's office and don't think the day is a competition of who can work the latest.
B. Enter someone's office, see that they're on the phone, then proceed to start a conversation because for whatever reason you think the world will stop when you speak.
C. Treat the boss' ass as though it were a pacifier. Your lips spend so much time attached to his ass that he has to have three pairs of pants in the office because you get them so wet with the saliva from you kissing it.
D. Use the copier, get a paper jam, then walk away because god forbid you should try to fix it, I mean pulling out a piece of paper is just too much effort and there will always be someone else that comes along to fix it.

Bonus Question: While eating you:

A. Order your food, chew with your mouth closed and enjoy your company.
B. Stick your face into other people's food, to inquire as to what they are eating rather than simply asking.
C. Chew with your mouth open so I can hear every chew and witness first hand the biological process of how humans break down a cheeseburger into stomach bile that is then used for energy.
D. Use your fingers rather than silverware and instead of placing food into your mouth with your hands which is bad enough, you swallow your fingers and occasionally your entire hand so that get the food in your mouth and lick your greasy fingers all at the same time.


For every A give yourself a zero
For every B give yourself one
For every C give yourself two
For every D give yourself four

If you scored a perfect zero you are not hated at all and are lucky enough to remain in my presence.

If you scored between a 1 and 10, I hate you on some occassions, but not so much that I can't talk to you. Every now and then you might use a stall that is right next to someone else even though there are plenty of open stalls, but it's more accidental than intentional. When driving you sometimes drive really slow in the fast lane, but that's mainly because you are engaged in an anti republican debate of some kind.

If you scored between an 11 and 20 you pretty much suck. Every now and then you try to redeem yourself, but deep down, you know you are retarded. You stand on down escalators, you eat on subways and if you are a woman, you don't sit when you pee, you squat and spray pee all over the seat without cleaning it up.

If you scored between a 21 and 35 you have little hope of reversing the damage you've caused to yourself and to others. You've scarred people for life by standing next to someone that is sitting while you are naked, leaving your pup to dangle in people's faces. You stand in the doorways of subways and elevators, you actually take the elevator down one flight even though there is a staircase right in front of you. You not only eat on subways, but you lick your fingers after touching the handles, you've even been seen barefoot on the subway. You purposely drive slow in the fast lane because after all you are driving the speed limit and when some flashes you to move over you scream and curse because you can't understand that going 55 in a 55 is too fucking slow.

If you scored between a 35 and a 40, well congratulations because it's debateable that you can funtion in society. You are a close talker, yet have bad breathe, you eat with your hands and think that picking your nose through a tissue actually covers the fact that you are picking your nose. You voted for Bush because you're not into "issues" and you believe Ann Coulter is anything other than the devil reincarnated. When you throw garbage away, it goes everywhere except the trash can, but then you don't bother to pick it up. Not only do you feel free to roam the locker room naked, but you carry it as a badge of honour and actually prefer the open showers to the private stalls. You walk on sidewalks then stop without any warning, then the 7 other people walking next to you horizontally spread across the sidewalk stop, thereby creating a wall of retards that can only be thwarted by huffing at such a loud decibal that you think everyone else is wrong or rude because you are so hated.

Monday, October 23, 2006

I love the smell of hating you in the morning

…You respond to the common Monday morning greeting of how was your weekend with, oh I didn’t have a weekend I spent it working. Oh well look at you working all weekend, you must be so proud that you’ve sacrificed your life for a corporation that doesn’t care about you. We all get it, you work so hard, your life is so tragic, not to mention that it just happens to be about the time that raises and bonuses are decided, I’m sure that has nothing to do with you working the weekend then making sure everyone knows about it and I’m sure it has nothing to do with me hating you.

…You leave the newspaper in the bathroom stall as either a signal of your laziness or as a poor attempt of a nice gesture. You are either a typical American and just leave your trash wherever you finish it or you think you were doing us all a favor by providing reading material. I can only speak for myself here, but I am in no way touching a newspaper that you handled while pooping. That paper was far too close to your naked balls and poopy stained hands and even closer to my hate.

…You enter through a door just as someone else is leaving, the other person (let’s just say me for argument’s sake) is the one that physically opens the door, you are the one that is entering on a free ride, yet do not defer to the other person to go first, do say thank you for opening the door, and do not give the required mumbled excuse me, while looking down of course because this is a bathroom after all and this is my hate.

…You are a cell phone salesman. I think the sleezy speaker salesman has now been replaced by the sleezy cell phone salesman. You know exactly who you are, you are eurotrash, typically some eastern European country, you listen to only techno, you double as a promoter for the hot new club, you drive a car you can’t afford, you go through a bottle of cologne a week because you see no use in showering twice a day or once for that matter. When someone asks you about a phone you say oh that’s the best, then the same person asks you about the phone right next to it and you say oh that’s the best, then that very same person asks about the phone right next to that and you say, oh that’s the best, and then the same person asks me about my hate and I say oh that’s you.

…You wear sweatpants to a strip club. I know, I know what’s the point of getting a lap dance while wearing jeans. I think I speak for everyone when I say that you have no business walking around with a hard on bumping it into people and knocking drinks over. While this may be a place where naked women jump up and down on your lap, save the sweatpants and the hard ons for the champagne room and I’ll save my hate for you.

…You exit the elevator in all the excitement of other people exiting the elevator, yet you get off on the wrong floor. I know it’s such an exciting moment when everyone gets out and you want to go along with the crowd. Then you get into the lobby and realize, hmm, this isn’t my floor, this isn’t even my company but it is actually my hate.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

I walk through the valley of the shadows of hate

...You have a mole that has a 2 inch hair growing from it. I don't understand how you can manager to shave your whole face, yet somehow you allow that one hair to grow beyond your chin. You have to notice this, there is no way you stand in front of the mirror and miss this a long hair hanging off your face and miss my hate of your face.

...You see that I have food in my teeth and you don't say anything. Apparently you prefer to look at people with a piece of lettuce on their front tooth and then you like to see them smile so it looks like they have rotten teeth. Better yet, when it's chocolate and the person looks like they've just eaten poop. Better still when it's you and it looks like hate.

...You work at starbucks and ask my name then when my drink is ready you scream my name at the top of your lungs with smile from ear to ear. Why are you so happy to call out people's names? There's only me and one other person here, I think you can lay off the name calling because if you can remember who had the venti ice coffee and who grande triple mocha frappa fat free decaf ice cappicino with a shot of expresso then you need to take my next order of hate.

...You pull your pants up past your belly button. I think back in the early Sinatra days circa 1925 this was popular, then in the early 80's there was a bit of resurgence with revenge of nerds and then the last time it was arguably acceptable was with the Z cavariche's, but in any era, at any time, it's unacceptable. Picture a woman wearing pants pulled up to just below her breasts, then look at her ass, that's right you can't fucking see it, there's back, literally a back that extends from her shoulders all the way down to my hate.

...You make toilet paper so thin that you can only tear off the paper, one sheet at a time. Why do they make these sheets a 2 by 2 square? Is anyone really using just one sheet? Remind me not to shake their hand. One sheet should be about 2 feet long, that way, I'd only have to use 5 at a time. In fact, why are we still using toilet paper at all? Wet wipes my friends, wet wipes. I'm on a mission to convert this world to wet wipes, you get mud on your hands, do you then wipe off your hands with a dry piece of paper? No of course not, and that's just mud. No wonder why we have poopy in our spinach and no wonder why we have my hate in you.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Hatin it up in an Elevator

…You think that sending some email to the daily news about subways is an adequate way to vent your frustration, but little did you know that subways are only the tip of the iceberg, there is hate to be found in any venue, some come one and come all to the greatest hates volume 2 – The Elevator Years.

…You are waiting to go up in an elevator, the light indicates that an elevator has arrived going in the direction of – up. You then take half a step into the elevator and ask is this going up? No it isn’t, we’ve rewired the entire building’s elevator system so that up means down and down means up, but then sometimes we switch it back, just to keep you on your toes. Is there a place where the elevator arrows just aren’t enough assurance that it’s going in the right direction that you feel compelled to ask before entering and where I am compelled to hate you?

…You approach an elevator bank, you see that the button has been pushed, you then approach and push again because apparently when I pushed the button, it didn’t work, but now that you’re here, we can rest assured knowing that you played an integral role in the elevator’s arrival. What’s worse is when you repeatedly push the button, then the elevator opens seconds later and you give a smug look of accomplishment as though you really did cause the elevator to open earlier than it would have if I was standing there hating you.

…You enter an elevator as soon as the doors open, before those on the elevator have a chance to get off. Who the fuck are you to think you are the only person in existence, do you really think this elevator is your own personal lifting device? Is it really worth the bum rush to get on the elevator before it empties? You know what happens next don’t you? Everyone, myself included, pushes you back out and then hates you.

…You enter an elevator, realize you forgot something, then proceed to announce to everyone that you forgot something and have to go back. You don’t necessarily even say it out loud to everyone, but you say it in a loud whisper, loud enough for everyone else to hear, but soft enough for you to think that you really just talking to yourself. Then you have to overdramatize your disappointment with yourself in how you could possibly forget something. I get it, it happens people forget things then have to go back, wouldn’t you rather keep everyone else guessing as to why this person is going back up when they just got to the lobby? Would you rather not get hated?

…You enter an elevator, ride all the way to the bottom, then don’t get off the elevator. What’s wrong with you? Do you just enjoy riding the elevator up and down? Does this lifting device amaze you that much that you just can’t seem to keep yourself from riding up and down out of fascination for this wonderful invention that’s only 150 years old? Or did you forget something and not do the just loud enough whisper to let everyone else in the elevator know that you forgot something and won’t be getting out and will be getting hated?

…You are in an elevator with your best girlfriend and other people and decide to have a conversation. Not just a barely audible conversation that people have when they are in public, not just a normal decibal conversation that people have all the time, no, you insist on speaking above levels of conversation that would be heard on airplane runways. You shout, and you are standing right next to me with your poopy breathe mouth right next to my face and your poopy looking face right next to my hate.

…You enter an elevator without paying attention to the direction (see up or down) and then realize after three stops that it is going in the opposite direction, you then ask in half question, half statement tone, oh this is going up? No dipshit, it’s going down but the numbers go in reverse order in this building, maybe you didn’t notice, 38, 39, 40, here we are at the lobby and here we are at my hate.

…You step into an elevator and see that I am the only person in it, standing in the back righthand corner, yet you walk in straight to the back and proceed to stand right next to me. So you’re that guy huh? You stand next to people to invade their personal space on purpose, you think it’s funny? Well how about this? Next time you are peeing, I’m going to stand at the urinal next to you and tell you that I like your watch. Then when you are allegedly washing your hands, I’m going to use the same sink as you at the same time. Then when you are leaving the building and about to enter the elevator, I’m going to hate you.

Monday, October 09, 2006

People are hated When you're a hater

...You are practicing playing your recorder as you wait at a crosswalk. I'm walking home from work, this guy gets to a crosswalk and has to wait, what does he, what else? He pulls out his recorder from his suit jacket and starts jamming and this guy was fantastic. The light changed to WALK, he put the recorder back into his suit jacket and I hated.

...You are walking down the sidewalk wearing a viking hat (the kind with horns) and bright purple viking cape, like the football team viking. So are you a vikings fan? I can't tell, but no matter now much you love the vikings, you should be aware that your level of love for the vikings is not even a fraction of my level of hate for you.

...You are the guy that was walking with our Viking fan friend in regular street clothes as though it is perfectly normal to see a grown man wearing a purple cape and horned hat. How empty must one's life be to go through such lengths to wear this costume to "support" his team at a bar where the players can't see him? How angry and pathetic must I be to talk the time to meticulously hate you.

...You refer to clothing that someone is wearing as "street clothes". What makes clothes street clothes? Anything other than a uniform? I'm confused because you can wear anything on a street, just like you can hate anything on a street.

...You are my father that was driving me to the train and had to leave over an hour before the train was even due to arrive even though the station is only 15 minutes away. While a short drive, you proceed to start driving in the complete opposite direction from where we needed to go because "we had time". We had so much time, that I still managed to barely make the train, and I still managed to hate.

...You have a myspace page and are over the age of 22. Um those 794 friends are in actuality 5 people you know in real life, 5 famous people, 4 people you knew from childhood and 780 stalkers. I'm among the hated here, but only out of a sociology experiment to try and figure out the point of all of this and of course to promote my hate of you.

...You are over the age of 22 and have some quiz on myspace about likes and dislikes and if you ever got fingered and if you ever liked someone from history class and if you ever made out in public and if you have pubic hair and if you are really a 47 year old man in dark sunglasses that parks his car by the entrance to school and if you are really hated by me.

...You have a myspace page and have so much shit on there that the page can never load and eventually freezes your computer at which point you force me to restart and lose the hate I've been writing because I god forbid I should hit save. Come on people, you put a couple pictures up, you make your little background pink and then you get hated.

...You have a myspace page and you have pornstars for "friends". So what are you trying to say here? You enjoy jerking off to these women or do you actually think you're friends? I'm sorry to tell you they are in this to make money, just like that stripper that's extra nice to you, the hot waitress or the hot lesbian bar tender, they're nice to you because they have to be. I've got news for you though, I'm not in it to make money, I'm here to hate you.

Tuesday, October 03, 2006

Professor Plum, in the billiards room with my HATE

...You do not understand the need for my suburban survival pack that I must bring whenever my travels bring me up to the burbs. What is this suburban survival pack you ask? Well allow me to elaborate. This pack contains very useful and necessary items such as:

- a baby gift, because everyone in the burbs is having kids, you might as well be prepared.

- a dog leash, because everyone has a dog and sometimes you have to work off the room and board for the weekend by doing chores

- a bottle of bug spray, because people in the burbs love to drink outside in the woods, where every mosquito and tick seems to find me

- a bottle of fine wine because people in the burbs seem to buy a new house every two years so chances are, you'll need a housewarming gift

- a bag of starbucks because they are not on every corner in the burbs, you may actually go 10 minutes without running into one, so you are forced to brew your own

- a list of 5 people from whom you can borrow a car, preferred customer cards from several car rental companies to go on your key chain and as a last resort a jimmy to break into a car because apparently people in the burbs have yet to discover the amazing human ability of WALKING

- a bottle of Xanax, because when you make the journey up the burbs, you kind of feel guilty if you don't stop by to see your parents and the only way to get through that event is to be sedated

- a sweatshirt that is a size too small. In the burbs the proper attire is old faded sweatshirt where the sleeves don't quite make it to your wrist and of course you must have on gap jeans. This is what people wear, I can't explain it, but I can follow the rules

- an update on Women's basketball. No one in the world cares about women's basketball, unless you are in the burbs of CT and you might as well read up on it, because you'll be stuck in several hour long discussions on this very topic

- a direct link to ihateyouif because as it suggests....

Monday, October 02, 2006

Good things come to those who hate

...You are still writing checks. Let's see how can I make my life more complicated, well I could write checks and have to show two forms of ID, physically write out the check and hold up an entire line of people that have graduated from the school of common sense. I plea, no insist, that there is one line for people still living in 1952 that use cash and checks and let all the other people use cards so they can get on with their life and hate you.

...You have some kind of "discount" or "membership" card and give some a tag that has to go on a key chain. Do you think people enjoy carrying around a rolodex on their key chains? This massive wad is supposed to fit in my pocket? My hate is supposed to fit on this blog?

...You are in a supermarket purchasing three carriages of groceries, you stand there watching the cashier ring up your 30 cans of cat food doing absolutely nothing to move the process along by bagging your own fucking groceries. Nope, you can't possible lift a finger can you? You might burn some of the 18 million calories you just purchased and you might actually avoid my hate.

...You send a wedding invitation and can't simply just put the time, but have to write is some type of pseduo old English. We request your presence at the church at thirty minutes past the hour that is two hours after fourteen hundred hours on the first saturday after the first full moon after the twenty first of the month May in the two thousand and sixth year after the birth of my hate of you.

...You roll into your local starbucks and order a tall coffee in venti cup. Well no, then what you want is a venti from which you will pour out half and fill the rest of your cup with heavy cream and 27 sugars. You don't get to just make up your own rules, but I get to make up my own hate here.

...You are in the 10 items or less line and think 40 cans of catfood counts as 1 item. I realize you live along with 10 cats, haven't had sex since you got drunk in college, pay for your food with checks or count out the exact change so you can use your pennies, but what you are also doing is holding me up and since I am the center of the universe, you are also getting hated.

...You are introduced to someone, you meet you say hello, you have a dreadful conversation, then you proceed to see each other another 5 or 6 times, each time being introduced and each time you saying you have met this person. No you haven't just met someone for the 6th time, you can only meet someone once, but you can be hated several, several times.

...You are at an ATM, you are for whatever reason filling something out, making deposits and withdrawals and whatever else annoying people do, but rather than complete your paper work which is apparently more complicated than a tax return, you do this right at the ATM so the 7 people waiting in line to get cash for the bar next door have to stand around thinking about how much they hate you.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

It puts the lotion on it's skin or else it gets the hate again

…You are the Daily News that asked it’s readers what they hate about riding the subway and didn’t even have the decency to refer everyone to my blog. Um hello, I’ve dedicated the last year of my life to this topic. The tools sending in their emails saying, yeah I hate that, when what they should have been doing was reading the hate that’s been here for all to see. In honour of what initially inspired the hate, I bring you the greatest hates volume 1 – The subway years.

…You are running to the subway and get caught in the doors as they are closing and then give an embarrassed laugh when you finally make it. Your laugh then continues for the next five minutes of the ride. No, no this is not funny, you held up the subway, and now when I get to my connecting subway, it is just as the doors have closed, I will know that I missed my train because you just haaaaad to catch the last one, delaying me that crucial 15 seconds, which now has caused me to have to wait another 15 minutes for the Never train, get to work late, miss my meeting with the President of the company, get fired, then hate you.

…You are waiting for the subway doors to open and instead of waiting to the sides like a sane, rational human being, you decide to plant yourself directly in the middle of the opening doors, then as the wave people begin to pour out of the train, you try to fight you’re way in, like a salmon against the current trying to spawn. What is the rush with this fucknut? Does he need a seat that badly or is he really that stupid? The train is not going anywhere until those people are let off, so let them off and let you be hated.

…You enter the subway, it’s virtually empty, you then proceed to stop immediately upon entering the train, thereby creating a blocked passage way for the 2 dozen other people behind you. You are the only person in existence, that’s the only logical explanation I can come up to help me get inside that mentally disabled brain of yours. What drives a person to be either so selfish or so clueless to the presence of other human beings that they can’t manage the simple task of actually stepping into the train without getting completely and utterly hated?

…You are riding the subway and refuse to hold onto anything and then are shocked when you are jolted when the train moves. You think those are there for show or just the décor? No they are there for a purpose, unlike you, there is a reason for their existence, they are to be held, they prefer to be held firmly to ensure that lower species such as yourself, don’t fall when the object they are inside goes from a complete standstill to 50mph in 5 seconds, they are there so that the higher intellect, such as myself, can hate you.

…You are riding the subway and decide that this is just as good a time as any to start eating half a rotisserie chicken. It’s crowded, it smells, it’s hot and you just have to eat that chicken now, although I beg to differ because that “seat” is actually three seats and you can’t even seem to fit in that. Do your body a favor and try skipping that subway meal or try an apple instead licking every last pit of greasy fat juice from each finger. Do you have any idea what’s on those hands of yours? You just touched a metal pole that 10,000 other snot infested hands touched, you are truly a monument of my hate.

…You think riding the subway is a game of musical chairs. At every stop you insist upon finding a new seat, it’s not because some smelly person just sat next to you, no, not because there is a less cramped seat on the other side, no. No one knows the reason, I’ve studied this for years and have to make any headway. There’s 4 stops on my morning commute (yes I’m spoiled) at every stop, you are in a new seat each seemingly having no advantage over the other. There would be somewhat of an explanation if each seat brought you closer to the door, even though no seat is more than 5 seconds from any door, but that would prove some logic to this game, but you in fact move farther away from doors, but somehow move closer to my hate.

…You wear your sunglasses on the subway. I know too bright down here huh? Yeah, we get it, you’re cool, you want to be just like Paris and Nicole all smart and skinny right? It’s every father’s dream to have a daughter to grow up emulating them, but why are your sunglasses 5 inches wider than your face? Those look ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as you wearing sunglasses indoors and underground, in fact, that’s beyond ridiculous, it’s hated.

…You enter a subway car, there is no one else standing, other than me, but then you walk straight to me, standing right next to me as though you just came in from the cold and I’m a warm fireplace. You have the entire train car, even some open seats, but no, you had to come in for the real thing and stand right next to me, leaving me barely enough room to breathe and barely enough room to hate you.

…You are holding onto the center pole, but instead of allowing some distance between you and the pole, you have one leg wrapped around the bottom and are virtually humping it so that not one other person can hang on. If you are a hot woman at a strip club, then yes, please by all means swing upside down from the pole, make love to the pole, do whatever comes to mind, if I question whether or not you slept on the train last night, then no, you should not be swing from the pole, you should be making love to the pole, you only be hated.

…You are standing next to me on the subway, holding onto the overhead bar and your hand is positioned right next to my hand, where then the unthinkable happens and you are now touching my hand. When strangers hands touch, you immediately pull your hand back as though you just touched the stove, but you’re different, you go against the grain, you left your hand there, you allowed your hand to remain in contact with me for far too long, even when I did the throat clearing and dirty stare, you held your ground and then you held my hate.

…You are the self flagellating masturbator I’ve seen riding the subway on far too many an occasion. How can any self respecting homeless man pleasure/punish himself on public transportation? Somehow, moving between cars and drinking a coffee is illegal on the subway, yet pleasuring oneself is accepted? Well maybe not accepted, but tolerated? I can’t believe this man tapped me on the shoulder to move out of his way to get a better look at the girl with the big butt, at what point in society did we find that public masturbation was anything other than hated?

Friday, September 22, 2006

Hate against the machine

...You are wondering why I am hating today when just yesterday I said I needed more time. Well today I was inspired by completely stupid headlines on yahoo and so....

...You release a "study" stating that breast implants are linked to suicide. Oh really, you think the people that are happy with their appearance and themselves go out and get breast implants? Perhaps your "study" should look at suicidal women and see how many have or seriously considered getting breast implants, that's like having a study released stating that eating more is linked to obesity, or releasing a study that states those that get blogged are found to be hated.

...You release a study claiming that smoking is linked to increase risk of HIV. Ok geniuses, I can't believe we spend money on pointless research. Let's see who are most of the smokers? People that drink, people that drink tend to make some bad decisions, bad decisions while drinking tend to be unprotected sex, unprotected sex leads to higher risk of HIV, there's your damn study for you, start paying me for this "research" and I'll stop hating you.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Hate in Translation

...You can't wait until next week for a new dose of hate. Sometimes, people have other things to take care of, like intense psycho-therapy for one, and sometimes people just don't feel like sitting in front of a computer anymore and sometimes, albeit surprising, people just don't feel like hating you.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Some say hate, it is a river

...You are that dude from Counting Crows. Did this guy get breast implants in his face? How does that happen? How do you go from seemingly normal sized person to looking like you're saving acorns for winter? This is amazing and should be studied by medical science, but for now it will only be studied by my hate.

...You are selling spinach at a fraction of the price. I thought the country outlawed the sale of spinach last week and here you are trying to salvage the few pennies you'll lose. I just want to know how poopy got on spinach in the first place, don't people realize that e. coli is poop? Was someone pooping in the spinach bagging plant? Is popeye okay? Are you hated?

...You claim you have an IQ over 160. So let's say I know a couple hundred people, and then meet maybe another couple hundred randomly thoughout a year, how can I hear an unreasonably high number of people tell me their IQs are over 160? Can we settle something here, please? Online IQ tests are not real, everyone gets a 160, that's how they sell whatever it is they are selling, that's how I know you're IQ is no where near 160, and that's how I hate you.

...You sell headphones and knowing that no one makes any headphones that stay in your fucking ear, you don't allow people to open them and try them on. So I have to buy them, open them, try them on and then I can return them, yes? Can you please save me the trouble of having to return these things and let me open them? No? Okay, I'll take one of every set you have, I'll pay for them, then walk immediately to customer service I will try them on as I'm waiting in the 7 hour line of all the other people returning headphones and hating you.

...You hand me a funnell in a bar and are suprised when half of it falls out the top all over me. I'm twenty fucking nine years old, why am I doing funnels of beer in a bar on Houston street? Is this normal behaviour for a man my age? Should I be living in burbs, raising some kids, getting fat and getting hated by now?

...You are the piece of scrap paper that I wrote 7 great hates on while lying in bed trying to overcome insominia and then I unkowningly threw out. The world will be a less hated place without the joy of these magnificent 7, you must understand once I make a note of it on paper, it's immediately erased from brain until I read that 2 word reminder and instantly I can sit here and write about how much I hate you.

...You write the description of a food item on a menu and use etc. Um etc? I kinda need to know what's in this. A pita stuffed with tomato, lettuce, etc. etc. wow that really sells your product, etc sounds delish, please, I'll take 2. It's too bad that when I ordered me some etc. I found out it only consisted of hate for you.

...You spell words like u r a gangsta. So now speaking horribly has progressed to writing like you are 12. I's knows all da playa hatas out dare ain't gonna be diggin me fo dat, but pullease, stop dat shit befo I hate you.

...You are in the elevator and give the "have a goodnight" or "take it easy" before the door actually opens and I have to sit there in utter agony waiting and waiting and waiting for that door to open. That 3 seconds feels like an eternity, what goes through your head when you blow your load like that? Do you get out of the elevator, slap your forehead and say DAMN IT! I peaked to soon, I blew it and now I'm hated.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I can hate for miles and miles and miles

...You make and error in tennis then immediately after you look at your racquet then ever so delicately you adjust the strings. No it wasn't your strings that failed you, it was you that failed you. Accept that your game is slipping, accept that you missed the shot, accept that I hate you.

...You advertise a sleeping pill and say side affects include drowsiness. Really? I never would have expected a pill that makes you fall alseep to cause fucking drowsiness. Is this a serious side affect or a stupid joke or is the world really looking for a sleeping pill that doesn't actually make you fall you asleep, which I guess would be called cocaine or it would just be my hate for you.

...You are a man, a straight man, and you go for a mani and a pedi. Listen, straight men do not care about their cuticles, they don't care if their nails are long they don't care if they write blogs about hating straight men that get this done, yet are a straight man that knows about the entire process before he hates you.

...You go the movies and start eating popcorn and other "treats" as though you have never eaten before. Rather than eat one popcorn kernel at a time you eat a fist of popcorn at a time, and you can't seem to finish the keg of popcorn fast enough. What's your rush paco? Oh I see you need to leave enough time for the twizzlers, sno caps, m&ms and the nachos. How did nachos make it to the movies? I guess the same way Chinese food made it to baseball games and the same the hate made it to you.

...You get to the gym, you mount your cardio machine and then proceed to set up camp for 20 minutes before you even begin using it, all during peak hours. That 30 minute time limit includes set up time in my book. You are not the only person in the gym that wants to use that machine at 7, you see the line of 15 people hating you?

...You are my gym nemesis. You know who you are, you are the uglier, shorter version of me. I understand that being short has given you small man's complex and you try to mask it by being as wide as you are tall, I see you looking at my time, my speed, my resistence, distance, then you try to move those nubby little legs of yours to try and catch up. At least be discrete about it, I can see you that I'm older than you, I weigh less than you, I'm taller than you, I'm faster than you and I'm less hated than you, without you knowing it.

...You are waiting for the subway doors to open, you are on the outside, there is a herd of people waiting to exit the train on the inside. The doors open, but you don't try to enter the train, you don't even move, you just stand square in the center of the door thereby not allowing people (i.e. me) to exit the train and thereby causing people (i.e. me) to hate you.

...You are walking towards someone, say me for instance, the person you are walking towards is walking along a wall or the curb which is on that person's right hand side, someone obviously has to move and it should be you, seeing as all traffic moves on the right. But you are different, a maverick of sorts, you think somehow, you can get by between me and the wall, a feat that would even impress David Blaine, but you couldn't do it, you could only get hated.

...You are walking towards me directly in my path, you are shorter than me, but you do not yield to me. Perhaps you have no concept of the laws of human kind or perhaps your a fundamentalist rather than a darwinist. You are smaller than me, natural selection ese, you must move out of my way. Just because you are wearing an XXXXXXL t-shirt, a red yankees hat with a perfectly firm bill (is that what it's called) pulled down to your eyebrows, and walk with fake limp, doesn't mean you are tough, it means you are acting exactly like a suburbanite tool from my high school circa 1993, GET A FUCKING NEW STYLE, get out of my way and get hated.

...You walk down the stairs to a subway at a leisurely pace as if you hadn't a care in the world, even though the train doors are about to open and a sea of people are about to run you and by default, me, down. Asshole, pull your pants up and try walking at a normal pace, some of us are trying to get to work so we can start having anxiety attacks, and some of us are trying, quite unsuccessfully, to not hate you.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

All Hate and no play makes jack a dull boy

…You insist on inspecting the food that I’m eating. I’m baffled by people’s obsession with the food that I eat. Why do you care? Is this some way to alleviate the guilt of your eating garbage? You should feel more guilty after seeing what I eat. And no I put no brown sugar on my oatmeal, maybe if you ate it you would realize that oatmeal is brown too. Try staying away from the grease pit and I’ll try not hating you.

…You include on our cafeteria menu, “hot protein”. Ok, who’s writing this thing? I either have a disgustingly filthy mind or someone has a perverted sense of humor. I vote for the latter. What’s even better is the menu option and I quote “tossed salad hot protein” and right below, I shit you not, “Hot protein: jerk chicken”. So first you get a tossed salad, then you get some hot protein by way of jerk chicken and top that all off with some hating you.

…You are standing in front of me on the subway and instead of holding on with one hand like every physically able person does, you decide to hold on with two hands, but not normally, no you have to basically straddle me with one hand on either side of me, looking me directly in the eye. To make matters worse, there is plenty of room elsewhere on the train where you could easily stand and not be hated.

…You have an option on our cafeteria menu that says “steamed broccoli”*. Now you may question the asterisk as I did, but it includes a very important statement as a footnote *denotes meatless dish. Oh really, we’re not talking about chicken broccoli? What I really don’t understand is that absolutely nothing else on the menu includes the asterisk, so what is the point of it? I wish I could post the menu without risk of being fired so instead I have to blog the menu at the risk of you being hated.

…You walk down a flight of stairs exactly in the middle leaving no room on either side for other people to pass. While you may appear to be walking, you are in reality moving at such a slow pace that the old lady with a cane is actually huffing at your slowness. I am continually amazed at how slow people can be, how do ever get to where you’re going? You must have to leave hours in advance and you must have to be hated hours in advance.

…You are eating lobster and throwing around inadvertent innuendos like it’s candy. No, I do not need your nutcracker. I realize that the tail is the best part and that you like tail and you like a nice big tail. No I’m not much of a leg man so you can have these. By the way, I’m officially done with lobster thanks to the giant glob of jelly in mine and thanks to my hate of you.

…You are the help desk. I guess you don’t understand the term help, you’ve been anything but helpful. I shouldn’t be the one telling you how to do things, I’m pretty much computer illiterate and the best thing you’ve got is reboot. I’m so glad that we outsourced the help desk, because if you were in the US then I would have to hate you to your face.

…You send out the presentation, agenda or any kind of materials for a meeting before the meeting, then bring copies for everyone to the meeting. Is everyone missing the point or just me? You send it to people so they can print it themselves, if you plan on bringing the materials don’t F’n send it to me ahead of time, you know everyone will print it, why else would you be sending it. Now when it’s my meeting, I’m forced to send out the material ahead of time because everyone else does and then I’m forced to bring copies with me, because the one time I don’t, no one will print it and then I’ll have to hate you.

…You say “you’re the man” to someone at work because they did some fairly basic yet did it well. Here you go champ, here’s you’re gold sticker, you’re aces. I feel like I’m fucking 6 years old and just won the spelling bee because I could spell neighbor. Yeah, yippee, we all get chocolate sundaes with whipped cream and cherries on top. Congratulations you have just been hated because you’re the man.

Friday, September 08, 2006

They say it's your hateday.

...You walk 3 or more people across on the sidewalk. Apparently you three are the only three people walking and no one else needs to get by. Please feel free to walk slow and randomly stop without considering that someone may actually be walking behind you. You are the only people in existence in all of the world and no one needs to get past you other than my hate.

...You use the cardio machines at the gym during peak hours for more than 30 minutes even though there are signs posted everywhere with the time limit. I know you feel you are royalty and above some silly rule at a fitness club. Those 10 people waiting in line can keep on waiting because you need to get that extra 10 minutes in, after all, your time is more important than theirs and you are really working out hard while reading OK magazine, talking on your cell phone, watching E! and getting hated.

...You enter the subway before everyone has gotten off, not only do you do that, but you then proceed to stop in the entrance instead of walking to the back of the train. All signs of logic and common sense are missing from your brain, you think that if you walk into people head on, you will somehow get a better spot to stand on the train, but in the end you find out you only are a better hate on the train.

...You use corporate buzzwords at work. This doesn't make you sound more intelligent or "on the ball" it makes you sound like an idiot that can't think for yourself. You have been fully brainwashed by corporate America. You insist that you circle back rather than keep me on the same page, but at the end of the day, we'll both be kept in the loop and if I'm out of pocket, just hit me on the cell and I can shoot it to you in an email rather than us sit around all day brainstorming, which only results in diminishing returns and increasing HATE.

...You are Jesse Jackson and claim the word "refugee" is racist. You know there was a point in time when one could argue that you raised issues that needed to be discussed in national politics. Now, not so much. It's time for you to set off on your iceberg and stop showing up at every national controversy getting hated.

...You sit at work all day chewing the fat and then complain how busy you are and how your life is so hard. Yet you don't realize that you busy by no one's fault but your own. We don't need to hear about your cat's quadruple bypass surgery, I didn't ask for advice for this weekend's date and I don't want to give you the details. Seriously it's time to get your own life and stop living vicariously through your co workers. Some people actually do their work all day so they can leave at a normal hour. While I'm at it, when I get to work at 8:30 and leave by 6 PM don't give me the "half day" comment. Just because you showed up at 10 and didn't start work until after lunch, doesn't me I'm leaving early, it means I'm hating.

...You don't realize that today we celebrate the birth of the hate. It's hate's first birthday, they grow up so fast don't they? You also don't realize that today's hate is a revamped version of the original. There will be some exciting new hate for the year to come and in various formats. Look for the I hate you if T-shirts, hatecasts - not to be confused with podcasts, and if my anxiety ever subsides, the first live stage performance of hating you.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Hate is in the air

...You drive a car that has one working headlight. So tell me Assfuck, are you a motorcycle or a car? You obviously know your headlight is out, get it fixed, it's simple. And don't tell me you can't afford it, if you can spend $80 to fill up that behemoth of an automobile than you can spend a few bucks to fill up on my hate.

...You drive a car that has one headlight on permanent highbeam. How the fuck does this happen and how do you manage to have the headlight angled directly into my eye. It's as though you have switch that you flip that says "aim directly ar driver's face". Well listen here you grundle licker, I have a switch that says "aim hate directly at you".

...You operate under the school of thought that punctuation goes inside the quotes. Here's the rule and I don't care if it's proper or not, although I believe it's the Queen's English, not Americano, don't know how that happened but it did, and here's the rule: When the full sentence is quoted, punctuation goes inside, when you are quoting within the confines of a sentence, quotes go outside. Example. "When I type full sentences of hate, the punctuation goes inside the quotes." or He was reading my email and saw that my punctuation was atrocious and said "I hate you".

...You masturbate on mass transit. I may have hated this before but the topic often comes up as many people have experiences such happenings. It's unbelievable that this happens so often, public transportation is not your personal pleasuredome, especially if I'm on the train. As bad as it is to have your genitalia out for the world to see, but you are not allowed to ask me to move out of the way so you can get a better view of the girl with the big ass. Yes it's nice, but do like the rest of us do, commit that to the bank and then hate.

...You are the hot bartender that I'm borderline stalking. So I hung out at your bar 3 days in a row, I think you're hot and I don't care that you're a lesbian. Note: I know for a fact she's a lesbian and not just feeding some line to get me to leave her alone. Why must you continue to encourage my behavior, pouring me shots all night, challenging me to funnell races, am I 19 again, why am I doing funnells, in a bar, with hot lesbian bartender, with a fist full of money and fist full of hate.

...You are a hot lesbian bartender. I just can't say enough about the hot lesbian bartender, I'm smitten I guess or perhaps I secretly know that this is the ultimate impossibility and want her even more. She's perfect, one, she's a bartender so she flirts with everyone, I'm not that special. Two, she's a lesbian, she's has zero interest in what I have. Three, she probably only dates non white girls, the trifecta for the man afraid of committment. But why are you so hot, why are you so lesbian and why are you so hated.

...You are the guy at work that pees next to me and for whatever reason has to spit into the urinal to pee. So are we on the same pee schedule or something, everytime I'm in here, you're standing at the gary coleman urinal, I walk in to the grown up urinal, then you spit and attempt to pee, then you leave without washing your hands and then I hate while washing my hands.

..You are a guitarist in a video and have a cigarette in the strings of your guitar. You are so cool man, I mean look at you, you smoke AND you play guitar. Well actually, no you aren't even smoking it, you just leave it in the strings as though it were some kind of air freshener rather than some kind of hate.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

An apple a day keeps the hate away

...You create a special at a restaurant in the vain of "neverending", "all you can eat", or "limitless". You know a lot of people need limits to help curb those primal instincts. We no longer have to gorge ourselves when we come across food, there's no fear that you can't eat tomorrow. Try eating a normal portion and I'll hating someone other than you.

...You wear a dry fit shirt to watch tennis. Dude, you're not actually playing the game here, it's about 65 degrees, you ain't sweating, you look ridiculous. You're definately the guy that gears up in spandex to ride a bike even though you are no where near a competition, but you are very near to my hate.

...You see an enormous line, walk all the way to the front to investigate that this is in fact a line and not a random act of 50 people deciding to stand single file right in front of the bathroom. Yes go investigate, then get right behind me in line and get hated.

...You are standing at the end of a line and being the hater that I am, assume you are the last person in line, in which case I stand behind you. You then say to me, oh I'm not in line. WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK why are you standing in line then? What type of person are you? Do you sit on the toilet and not shit? Do you order food and not eat it? Do you do go to the movies and not watch a movie? Do you meet me and not get hated?

...You don't appreciate the made for karaoke videos that play in the background at karaoke bars. In an attempt to meet asian women, scratch that, I mean in an attempt to hone my stage skills, I went to Karaoke and saw the most wonderful enactment of livin a prayer. I mean this video actually showed Tommy working at the docks, and gina...oh gina, she was working the dinner all day and me, oh me, I was hating all night.

...You keep pouring me shots whenever you make them for someone else. Listen woman, you are hot, yes, but stop trying to get me completely and utterly inebriated is this amusing to you? The worst part is that I'm without a doubt going to keep drinking these shots and the fact that it's three days later and I'm still drunk doesn't bother me one bit, but the fact that it's three days later and I still hate you bothers me a lot.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

21 Hate Street

...You are my teenage neighbor whose parents are away for the week and insist on inviting no less than 37 of your closest friends over every night. Perhaps if I was in perpetual intoxication, wait...perhaps if I was in perpetual intoxication with several other obnoxious people I would find your friend peeing in the hallway amusing, but no when I get home at night, I want nothing to do with your pee, just as you want nothing to do with my hate.

...You make sock sizes fit shoe sizes 6-12. Perhaps you have not noticed that a carnie size foot of size 6 is quite a miniature foot, while a size 12 shoe is a rather large foot, the shoes are no where near comparable, try making socks the appropriate size and I'll try to make hate the appropriate size.

...You make slim fit shirts with size 18 necks while an actual slim person's size of 15 is no where to be found. Have you seen the people that purchase size 18 shirts? They are the people with no necks, do you think any of them are slim? Absolutely not, do you think any of them are hated? Absolutely.

...You wear wifebeaters as your undershirts. All right, the whole point of an undershirt is keep your regular shirt from getting pit stains and from getting deodorant on them. A wifebeater on the other hand, provides zero protection against either and also provides zero protection against my hate.

...You don't shut the fuck up about hurricanes on the news, you know we've had no hurricanes yet this year and a few tropical storms. We get it, there are hurricanes that happen every year, and every year, the poor people in say Michigan or even California have to here minute by minute updates as to whether the storm is a tropical storm or category 2. Local news in the gulf, yes please report to the people that live there. People in NY that only have the remnants of a storm ruin their labor weekend, no report when it's an actual hurricane and I'll report when there's actual hate.

...You make comments that electing democrats will strengthen the terrorists. Ah yes, local politics are of the utmost importance to the terrorists. I have to counter that not catching the prime suspect tends to strengthen the terrorists. The worst thing is the republicans will lose in '08, which is about the amount of time it will take for another huge attack, when a democrat is pres, then of course it will be a game of I told you so. Well right here, right now, it's a game of I hate you so.

...You insist on asking people if they want to open a charge card everytime they come to the register. We all know there are charge cards, we all know they save a whopping 10% on all purchases, but let me ask you this, why the fuck would I go through the trouble to save a whole 5 bucks on a $50 shirt? Do I look that poor or do you look that hated?

...You make men's jeans that say size 30 but when I go to try them on there is about 5 extra inches of waist. I get your marketing strategy here, but I don't give a shit what size it says, I just want it to be consistent. I could be a size 40, but when I go to buy that size, I expect it to actually be that size. Oh and stop making size 30 jeans with a length of 38, just because they are designer, it doesn't mean I'm a 6 foot 5 malnourished hipster doofus, it means I'm a 5 foot 9 hater of you.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

When the dogs begin to hate her

...You are an ATM and give me only 50's. I realize I'm a balla, but seriously no one even accepts 50's. What the hell am I supposed to with these? I guess it will keep me from spending money, but it won't keep me from hating you.

...You don't accept 50's. Seriously? You don't want actual money? How can a 20 be the highest bill accepted, nothing even costs less than a 20? That's my daily toll just for living in NY, just to wake up you have to pay 20 bucks, I've recently begun throwing a 20 out my window in the morning, but now I have to throw a 50 out my window and a hate.

...You make a movie that takes place in the future, but you set it maybe 10 years ahead and suddenly in that 10 year period, we live with aliens, are chryongenically frozen, have flying cars, colonies on mars, and everyone is hated.

...You work at a doctor's office and call out my name from a list and somehow butcher it so bad that my first name becomes grease. GREASE? G-R-E-G, not a hard word to say, especially when 4 clearly written letters become 18 letters. I'm not even going to try to recreate what was said for my last name, let's just say that it contained not one of the same letters as my last name, although she may have said, I am hated.

...You work in a pharmacy where I am trying to get one of my 100 new placebo prescriptions filled and you tell me I shouldn't take medicines from doctor because they get a cut everytime I fill a prescription. Not just that, but you know, you didn't need to write down you number and give me your schedule for the next 3 weeks. I mean, I love tatoo's that run up the side of women's necks and all, but you have the same name as my sister, but unlike her, you are hated.

...You ask me how my week off is going. Um, have you looked out the window? It's been raining every single day that I haven't been working, how does that sound to you? Fan-fucking-tastic I bet. How about Fan-fucking-hated.

...You refer to sex as making love. Okay, there is nothing more creepy than calling sex making love. Foreigners are the biggest offenders of this, they've seen to many American movies I guess. I don't care if you've been married for 20 years or just had some fun last saturday, never, ever, ever refer to sex as making love, lest ye be hated.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Hate that funky music white boy

...You dislike the annoying music playing on my blog. Have you read the name of my blog? It's called I hate you send me emails, text messages, call me, leave comments, etc, that you don't like the music. Yes, it's there to purposely annoy you so that I can hate you.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Every now and then I hate the living shit out of me

...I drive my entire family, my friends and my doctor completely nuts by insisting that I've been having heart attacks, I get all kinds of tests done only to prove that my heart is perfectly healthy, so now it must be lungs and must be my hate.

...I claim to be a completely laid back person and not give a shit about anything, yet I have an entire blog devoted to hating people like you and me.

...I rant and rave about how much I hate Joe Lieberman, yet I don't have the decency to even vote. Um yeah in case I didn't notice, I'm still registered to vote in CT, it's only an hour away and I'm only a hate away.

...I claim I'm going sober and barely make it a week. Isn't going sober compeltely stopping the use of alcohol? Right yes, so having a whiskey before bed, not good? Better not send me to AA, I already turned in the 1 week chip and the 1 week hate. I don't even know what that means, other than me being hated.

...I profess my hatred of reality TV, yet I find myself watching celebrity fat club, my fair brady and flavor of love at 2 in the morning. It's no wonder everyone at work says I always look tired, yeah well when you're up all night watching Next on MTV, you're not gonna sleep much and tomorrow night is a room raiders marathon so I'm not getting any better, I'm only getting hated.

...I refuse to take any kind of drugs prescribed by a doctor or even over the counter because they are "bad for me", yet I have absolutely no problem going out drinking a bottle of whiskey and smoking a pack of cigarettes. Hmmm, maybe I didn't get the memo that cigarettes are about the most surest thing of killing me, other than hating me.

...I go on and on about how bad corporations are and how working for the man is like selling yourself to the devil. Yeah corporations are terrible, they have al the money, but they rip the soul out of everthing, yet I work for the man, in fact, I am the man and I am hated.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

I write Hate not tragedies

...You need the following lesson in the English language.

Mute: Refraining from producing speech or vocal sound.

Moot: Of no practical importance; irrelevant.

In conversation it is bad enough, but excusable since you can't be exactly sure and you just think to yourself, did that person actually just say the issue is mute? Then three hours later when you're brushing your teeth, you finally say to yourself, yeah I think he did say it was mute. In writing, on the other hand, there is never equivocation, you are without a doubt an idiot. People and sounds are mute, like when I mute the phone when you are speaking, put you on speaker phone and then make fun of you to everyone in the room. Issues, topics, statements are moot, like when you say something, it's completely moot (i.e. pointless) because I already hate you.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Why don't we get drunk and hate

...You are Enterprise rent-a-car and I go to pick up my RESERVED car and you tell me you have no cars other than a minivan. Am actually in a Seindfeld episode? Don't tell me you have an exciting car for me to see and then show me the minivan and say it's that or take a ride with me 30 minutes away to get a car that's still not what you reserved. Hmmm, I'm gonna throw you a curveball here, you give me your car for the weekend and you drive the minivan, how's that sound? NG? Right, because I hate you.

...You own a lesbian bakery/store that I enter to get a cup of coffee and give me more attitude than a strip club bouncer. Listen she man, I just want a cup of coffee, please, just pour it and let me pay. Oh I have to pour my own, but the cute girl doesn't, I get it, all those years of man hating has caused this man to hate you, oh how the tides have turned.

...You get married and think that your style and fashion sense freezes for the rest of eternity in that particular year. Say you were married in 1988, you still wear nut hugging acid wash jeans and concert T-shirts. Say you were married circa 1991, you are wearing white shorts with long sleeve shirts and air Jesus sandels. And let's say you are married in 2006, 10 years from now, you'll still be wearing my hate.

...You such a bad case of swass that it goes right through your shorts for all to see. Let's be clear on something, you know when you've got a case of swas, take care of this will you, go to a bathroom and pat it dry. Better yet take preventative measure and use baby wipes, it will save all a lot of hate.

...You make me do any activity that will cause me to get a case of the swalls. I don't want anyone to be responsible for me getting swalls other than me. At least I can take preventative measures, which oddly enough do not include the use of baby wipes. Swalls are strickly reserved for gym time, all day drinking in the sun and me hating you.

...You need to check urban dictionary to learn about swass and swalls. I'll save you the trouble for a hate. Swass: Sweaty Ass, derived from the term swamp ass. Swalls: well you get the picture. I'm not sure what's worse, the fact that I thought I thought of these words on my own, that I went to urban dictionary and found a litany of definitions or that I hate you?

...You pull up to a gas pump at the gas station, you sit in the car for no less than 15 minutes, then you decide to get out, hang out for 5 more minutes or so, then instead of pumping your gas, you go inside to buy some twinkies, then you come out and realize you have to pay first, then you go back in and pay, and then I finally get to hate you.

...You are talking to me on the phone, the conversation is basically over, but instead of just giving the "all right then", you say you have to go and will call right back. Hey I get it, phone calls are not meant to go one forever, in fact I could possibly be the absolute worst person to talk to on the phone because the entire time I'm just thinking of new ways to hate you.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

These are a few of my favorite hates

Shit stains on sidewalks; small dogs in large purses
Eating Chicken on subways; a homeless man's curses
Girls that won't drink on horrid first dates
These are a few of my favorite hates

Naked men at the gym; retarded Starbucks sizes
Sneeze guards over salads; taking free samples like prizes
Farting right next to me as though we are mates
These are a few of my favorite hates

When the phone rings
When you're peeing
When this I'm seeing
I simply remember my favorite hates
Then I start to seethe so bad

Tourists in Time Square; walk slow when I'm there
Stupid questions at work; saying I'm losing my hair
Yelling into cell phones makes me irate
These are a few of my favorite hates

Calling things cherry; voicemails that don't end
Blackberries in movies; emails you should not send
Causing foot traffic may not make me late
But that is my absolute favorite hate

When the boss calls
When I see your balls
When my car stalls
I simply remember my favorite hates
Then I start to seethe sooooooooo bad