Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Gonna Give You Every Inch of My Hate

...You are a middle aged man wearing an earring. Guy, earring's are acceptable on two types of men and two only; Frat guys from the 90's and pirates. And since the 90's are over and we're not at sea, take that foolish thing out. To all those under 44 yr old men out there, when it comes time for your crisis, do us all a favor and pierce your sac or something we can't see so we don't have to painfully witness the time when you realize you're closer to death than to youth, for now, I'll have to settle for painfully hating you.

...You are a 6 foot 5 ogre and insist on sitting in the middle seat on a train. I'm so very nice and comfortable a nice space betweem me and the attractive cougar that I was chattin it up with, and suddenly my enjoyment was crushed by this monster that insisted on sitting. Now I'm pressed against the window because your side fat was taking up half my seat. You are huge, you are on a crowded train, you stand or you get hate.

...You tell me something is 6 of one, half dozen of the other. Yes either one works, I get that, but are you telling me riddles in conversation. I'm not sure if I should agree with you or pull out a calculator. I am however sure that I should hate you.

...You are on a train, place your coffee on the floor on the aisle side and flip out when someone knocks over your $1 coffee. I mean its not even starbucks, if from some cart on the street that mostly contains more urine than coffee, someone just did you a favor. The reaction was so not worth the crime, what's going on in your life that you practically came to blows with three women, who by the way could have taken you, but instead just hate you.

...You chew with your mouth open. I'm not even talking just a little open, I'm talking gaping, I can see every piece of disgusting food in your mouth, and the sound it makes, lips smacking together, your mouth too dry, I won't be able to eat for days, I'll only be able to hate for days.

...You come to my door at 6:30 in the morning and ring the doorbell then walk away. Yes, I was blasting 80's music at 6:30 in the morning, yes we were screaming along at the top of our lungs, yes we were jumping up and down "dancing" making a lot of noise, but come on, you move furniture every day of your life at 1:30 in the morning therefore I get a freebe here so I can hate you.

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