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.

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doc said...
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