Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Clap your hands and say hate

...You see that it’s raining so you stop and just stare, mesmerized, at the rain. Staring at the rain won’t make it stop any sooner, I’m sorry to tell you. Spring the 4 bucks and get yourself a disposable umbrella. You’re not even outside yet and the sight of rain just freezes in you in your tracks like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun. It’s water people, aside from 2 or 3 of you, you won’t melt. You might get a little wet, you hair might get a little messy and of course, you’ll be hated.

...You say Hillary Clinton is such a strong woman because she is a mother and a politician. All right, what people fail to recognize is that she’s the mother of a grown adult, a 27 year old adult and that’s it. I’m not so sure how much of her mothering comes into play anymore, so let’s hold the kudos on that front, please, but will not hold the hate on this front.

...You are Don Imus. You seriously look like the walking dead. There is no chance you have a pulse seeing as you are more pale than an albino and skinnier than skeletor. You are basically a skeleton that thinks he’s a cowboy for some reason, wearing a shinny silver belt buckle that’s larger than a cumberbun froma tux and cowboy hate with a string connecting under your chin. I’m not sure who told you this was a good look or that all the kids were dressing like this, but dude, go back to the set of pee wee’s playhouse and go back to being hated.

...You are at the office and talking on the phone in your “girlfriend” voice. Hmmm I wonder who you are talking to? Oh right, the girl on the 14th floor that you’ve been dating for 3 years, yet you seem to think it’s a “secret”. After 2 months the cat was out of the bag so stop trying to deny that everyone knows. I’m sure it’s all exciting pretending to sneak around the office trying not to be seen together, that’s cute, really…the first thousand times we had to witness it. Now your coyness is not so much fun, it’s so much hated.

...You are allegedly helping with work, when a question is raised and your proposed resolution is to set up a meeting. Dude, it’s a 2 second question that requires a 2 second answer. It’s no fucking wonder nothing gets done in the world. During the time you have been talking about how we should set up a meeting to start a meeting, I’ve sent an email, got a response and hated you.

...You control the temperature to my office and set it to “sweltering” during the summer months. I call to have the AC fixed and set lower, you come and raise the temperature. As I’m soaked in sweat, I call to have it fixed yet again, you come and set it to frigid and now I have snotcicles hanging from nose like a moustached skier. Touché my friend, but seriously my fingers should not be numb and my hate should be for you.

...You give your kid a Mohawk. Wow, look at how cool that dad is, his kid has a Mohawk, that’s sooooo punk rock. He’s not gonna let THE MAN tell him how to live his life. You’re 36, you have a toddler, you now own the bar where you tried to “make it”, you have a wife and your trust fund is now entirely in your control, why are you still emo? Let it go, your life is looking pretty good, there’s nothing to rebel against, there’s no reason to be punk with green hair, a mohawked child and a lot of hate.

...You pronounce tortellini as tortelloni. I see, you must be one these high society types who thinks that pronouncing a word differently will themselves appear to be of a superior intellect. Well hows a this? Go your local bookstore, or your favourite website, have a looksie at the spelling and the give yourself a listen, but listen closely to be sure you hear me hating you.

No comments: