Monday, January 23, 2006

The hate after tomorrow

...You say you are going to tell your parents about my hate. So when we were kids you were always the mole, somehow my parents knew every bad thing I was up to because they had an insider working for them. Why would you tell your parents everything? You know they are telling mine no less than 2 days later and now you want to make me relive those uncomfortable moments when my parents realize that I'm not a perfect, sane and rational person, but instead am an obnoxious egotistical hater.

...You are a restaurant and serve shrimp with the tails on them. When was it that all the chefs of the world decided to band together to annoy me? Is it that hard to take those little tails off? It's kind of disgusting that they are even left on in the first place, but then I have to go digging through my meal tearing off the tails myself and hating you all the while.

...You deliver me food and give me a menu with my order. Um yeah, I already ordered from you, I have your menu, get it? I mean I am capable of many supernatural tricks, water to wine - no problem, but guessing menu items is not one of them, so give another menu so this blasphemous prick can hate you.

...You take me to knick game and tell me I was invited because no one else could go. Do you impress all your clients this way? Is that how flatter people by telling them they are shit? You shouldn't walk around with a chip on your shoulder because you look like fred flinstone, I did once work for you, but now I pay your bills so pucker up and starting getting hated.

...You are standing on the corner of 14th and first and ask me where 14th and first is. It's called a street sign, try looking up. How did you get this far in the first place, you obviously started somewhere and that somewhere obviously had an address, maybe you don't know how to count, but if you start on 3rd ave and then walk past 2nd ave, the next street is going to be me hating you.

...You are all of my neighbors that feel the need to let their doors slam shut. How does this not bother you? I can't watch TV without hearing 41 doors slam shut every hour, and by the way why are going in and out of doors so much, I'm on couch duty here trying to control my alcohol withdrawal and you are obssessed with slamming doors and geting hated.

...You are my insane neighbor that screams for 10 minutes straight every 20 minutes. Screaming, ok, but the screeching? You sound like a pubescent 12 year old boy trying to raise his voice. And to outdo yourself, you bang something against the wall. What are you doing in there? Why do you insist on being hated by me?

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