Monday, August 20, 2007

I'm working my way back to you hate

...You like to go out to family style restaurants. If I want to share my food with everyone at the table, I’d eat at home. The whole point of going out to eat is to eat like you can’t eat at home. You see I can make a large amount of pasta at home and then share. What I can’t do or am unwilling to do, is cook 4 separate entrees for 4 different people, so we go out to eat, let someone else do it and let you get hated.

...You are the person answering in this conversation. Question: Hey did you try that restaurant on 7th it’s pretty nice in there and the food is good. Answer: oh that place? That place sucks once it got a good review everyone starts talking about it, the place you really want to try is one you never heard of, there’s no sign on the door, there’s no menu, no reservations, in fact I don’t even think there’s a restaurant. Response: oh that took the entire point out of our conversation. Next topic; Q: Hey did you here The Police are doing a reunion tour? A: oh The Police? Yeah they’re so overdone ever since puffy did that song, what you really want to be listening to is this band that is from billyburg, wait, you can’t call it billyburg now because people know what it means, but anyway, this band has no cd’s, their not online, they have no name and they only play live at one of two places, my friend’s sister’s boyfriend’s basement or at this club that only 3 people know. R: You mean it’s 3 guys that jam at home and you that gets hated.

...You say you had a deviated septum and it needs to be operated on, then when the bandages are removed you suddenly have a small nose. What happened to your nose Gonzo? We all know your dirty little secret, there’s no deviated septum, that crook on your face is now gone Ashley Simpson, we know and we hate.

...You read comments on articles online and actually respond to stupid comments people make. You see a comment about the author of an article online that says the aforementioned author likes balls in her face. Juvenile? Absolutely. Funny? A veces (es espanol, look it up). But you take it to a whole other level by responding to the likely 13 year old prankster. This then sets off a series of rants and raves, back and forth of name calling reduced to the eventual point of you being called retarded or gay. Why do you even bother and why do you even care? You’re defending an author that could very well also be 14, just because there was some inspiring advice on feng shui. Do yourself the favor, head over to the hate blog and read about you.

...You are the cleaning lady that throw out my banana. First you stole my gym pass, now this? What next eastern European lady? Let’s set some new ground rules okay, I decide when to throw out rotten fruit, why? Because I’m the decider. One more incident like this and I’ll take away your rubber gloves and replace them with hate.

...You wear so much cologne I can smell you the second you walk into the men’s room. I’m in the stall trying to not allow the wandering foot of the guy that chose the stall next to mine among 4 other empty stalls to touch me, trying to not hear the enlarged prostate man attempt to grunt out a drop of urine, trying not to see the person walking by my stall that peaks into the what seems like 10 inch gap between the door and the wall, trying not to taste the vomit that is slowly rising up my esophagus and trying not to smell the entire bottle of faux D&G cologne you bought from the guy in union square and really trying not to hate you.

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