Thursday, September 27, 2007

Hate's the boss

...You show up at my office like clockwork everyday at 1130 and then again at 2. Talk about absolute worst with timing. Have you ever dealt with people before? No of course not, that’s why your 40 and single. You see, 11:30 is right before lunch, people kinda want to finish up what they were doing and not deal with people until they get their lunch. At 2:00 the food coma sets in, people want a few minutes (read: an hour) to veg at their desk, surf a little internets, do some mindless work and then hate you.

...You hire someone to replace my old boss, but take 1.5 years to do so. So for the past year and a half, I’ve been doing the job of two, I’ve been doing all the work, doing all the presentations and getting all the credit. Now you bring in some jamoke that knows about a fraction of what I know, but makes at least twice as much as me. You hire this tool to just sit in his office, probably blogging about how he has this great job where he’s overpaid and some kid is doing all his work and giving him all his hate.

...You are my new boss (in title only) and when meetings are scheduled in the morning, you show up literally 30 seconds before. For an 8 AM meeting you show up at 7:59:30. yes that leaves 30 seconds to prepare, not to mention you had no involvement whatsoever in the preparation for the meeting, you didn’t ask me to give you any update on topics for the meeting so naturally you are going sit there like a useless pile, while I run the meeting. You do realize that you are being watched through a magnifying glass, if you can not show more value than me, then you will be shown hate.

...You concede the lead in a meeting that you are supposed to be leading to the guy 15 years younger than you and sit silently in the corner like the dunce that you are. You interject once in the meeting at the most inopportune time saying nothing of value or relevance, you are then given a look of death followed by a look of pity at which point I jump in to save your ass, but I most certainly do not save my hate.

...You have nothing to say so you begin a sentence as though you are about to make a point, then about halfway through the sentence, you fade out and then pause for someone else to interject and say something that might be meaningful. Once someone says something, you confirm it by saying, “right” or “exactly”. You think that people don’t notice this but they do, they know you are useless and they know you are hated.

...You are my new boss and have the same last name as me. Not only are you a complete waste of space, but you have the same last name as me and we're not in IT. I’ve worked very hard to make a name for myself and all you’re doing is tearing that apart. The most value you have added is responding to everyone’s stupid jokes about us having the same last name and you can’t even get that right, you can only get hate.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

You take my hate away

...You are the people that can’t seem to make flat front pants whose pockets don’t stick out. Yes I get it, I have what one might call larger legs, but I can assure you when you run 5 or so miles a day, you’re legs tend to be a bit on the muscular side, but that doesn’t I have to accept that my pockets will stick out or else I have to wear fat boy pants, now does it? All you need to do is slightly change the angle of the pocket and presto, no more sticking out and no more hating of you.

...You sign your name to an email using only your initials and yet somehow still spell this wrong. Apparently knowing three letters is just too difficult. The worst part is that the letters aren’t even close on the keyboard, so typos are not an excuse, it’s as though you had to consciously think about the letters of your name and then actually get that wrong after which you actually get yourself hated.

...You an order of coffees on the counter and throw a tray at me when I order multiple coffees at starbucks and ask that my coffees be placed IN a tray so that I might be able to carry the scolding hot beverages. Instead of filling my order and placing the cups into the tray, you put the coffees on the counter and throw the tray at me. it’s like that extra work of having to aim the coffees when you place them down is just too strenuous for you. God forbid we make your life any more complicated than it has to be. Why don’t you try drinking some of that liquid crack you serve, then maybe you’d get off your fat ass and only then, maybe you’d get off my hate.

...You sit directly behind me in a movie theater and insist on continually kicking my seat. Thank you, I’ve been looking to employ someone like you to come to my house and kick my seat while I’m trying to watch TV, I’m also looking for someone to do the same while I’m at the office. This would really make my day a little easier and little more pleasant, better yet, what do you say I come to your house and your office and continually kick your seat? But no, I won’t do this, I’ll just turn around and give you a stare, then give you a hate.

...You are annoyed with someone either talking in a movie, walking 7 people horizontally on a sidewalk, paying with pennies or even the salmon like Mexican guy trying to enter a subway car before anyone exits, and rather than speak up to any of these offenders, you huff under your breathe and give them the staring of a lifetime, you know the evil eye, then you run home and write about it in your blog thinking that the offenders may someday read said blog and correct their behavior, but instead everyone just remains hated.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Everybody wants to hate the world

...You provide me with a detailed play by play of your weekend hook up first thing Monday morning. Well thank you beast woman, my life is so much more full now that I have your grotesque horror stories of you fornicated with some poor unfortunate intoxicated soul. I would have to say he must have a case against you in some sort of harassment or rape suit because no man in good conscience would dare go for the ride with you; he would only hate you.

...You create a problem at work, I inform you of said problem and you reply with “no worries”. No worries? No none for you apparently, but you my friend created a mess. Every time you fuck something up, I have to fix it and every time you do something, you fuck it up which means I’m always fixing you’re shitty job and it means I’m always hating you.

...You hear people at work down the hall talking and just can’t help yourself but to interject your dumb comments into the conversation. All right, you’re not even in the eyesight of anyone speaking, so now you are just an errant voice, except that your comments are not in any way funny and have very little to no relevance to the conversation at hand, it’s merely a feeble attempt on your part to attract attention to yourself because your such a beast that no one likes you, they only hate you.

...You have sandwiches set up in some sort of mass feeding area such as a conference and place the bread after the meat. Silly as this may sound, wait until you’re at some buffet table trying to make a sandwich when you come across the some may and mustard, then you get to the meat after which lies the lettuce and tomato and finally the bread. Who concocted such a scheme, someone must have been filming this because the chaos that ensued was nothing short of hated.

...You are participating in a conference “break out” session where a simple discussion is being had and are taking vigorous notes throughout. I wasn’t aware that we’ll be tested on the material afterwards. You know I can understand writing down a couple of insightful things that were said, but to periodically recap to the table before we move on to the next topic is nothing short of hated.

...You are behind me walking into a store, as I pass through the door, I hold the door open behind me to let you in, I head to the counter, you follow, but then you don’t stop behind me, you go directly to the front of the line as though you are exempt from line waiting. Not only are you blatantly cutting me in line, but you then deny that I even held the door for you. You’re either delusional or fucking nuts, in either case please go ahead of me I’d rather live today and I’d rather hate today.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Now that's what I call hate Volume 243

...You tell me that you had floor seats to an Interpol concert and then after I tell you the location of my seats you tell me you wouldn’t have even gone if they were that bad. That bad? At least I had a seat and didn’t have to stand through the shitty version of mazzy star that opened. If there is any band where I wouldn’t expect to find douchebags that brag about having a ticket that cost $10 more than mine, it would be at Interpol, but instead I found you, and then I found hate.

...You repeatedly call me chief during an afternoon of watching football at a local watering hole. Getting chief’ed once is bad enough, but to abuse such a word is a disgrace and an insult. I’ve been chief’ed once before….ONCE, you don’t want to know what happened to that guy? (read: nothing) Grown men, do not call other grown men chief, you dig? Perhaps you think I am younger than you because I look like I’m 20, even so, don’t assume or I’ll hate.

...You created the Dolce & Gabana ads for any men’s magazine. I’d really like to know why someone seems to think that in a men’s magazine we should find pictures of a naked man in what appears to be a cod piece. This apparently is how cologne is sold. This is how D&G is attracting men to buy cologne, I see. I completely understand the dynamic of really selling to men’s girlfriends and also to gay men, but I really must say I don’t want to be reading an article about politics or sports and then flip the page to full page cock ad and full page hate

...You are the Richard Marx clone at my office. You are the same guy that has a mix tape of love songs, one of course including Hold On to the Night. By mix tape I of course mean an actual tape and not a playlist. If you still look like Richard Marx, then you still only have a tape deck. I’m not exactly sure what the worst part of this situation is, you looking like Richard Marx, me knowing who Richard Marx is, me knowing a song by Richard Marx, you now singing that song in your head, me hating you.

...You say chocolate is addictive. No you’re just fat. You see most people have the ability to know when they’re full, and that’s when they know to stop eating. You on the other hand, make any and every excuse to eat. Just because the chocolate industry funded a study to prove the health benefits of chocolate, doesn’t make it a health food and it doesn’t make it an all you can eat food, it only makes hate for you.

Friday, September 14, 2007

When you wish upon a hate

...You send me an email on Saturday. Well hey everyone, look at how this guy is working so hard, he even has to come in Saturday, he’s sacrificing his weekend while you’re out at the beach having a grand ol time. If you’re coming in to the office on Saturday consists of sending emails, well then you have no point in being in the office on Saturday. You are sending the Saturday emails for sole purpose of showing people that you’re at work and no one else is. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. In fact, I’m starting doubt the point of your employment all together. If you can’t get your job done during the week, then I call you inefficient and then I call you hated.

...You give me cuff links for Christmas and then say you will get them engraved for me, but then reneg on your offer. So the cuff links are definitely nice, can’t wait to wear them, oh you’ll get them engraved for me? That sounds nice. Oh you will take them and then pick them up and then give them back to me? Even better. This all sounded so nice in theory, way back at Christmas of 2005. We’re now fast approaching Christmas ’07, no engraving, no cuff links, only hate.

...You ask if someone knows fashion, then wonder if they ever heard of joe boxer. I didn’t realize knowing a brand of underwear required fashion industry credentials. That’s like asking if someone has ever heard of Levi Jeans. Are you a professional athlete? No? Oh well then you probably never heard of the Yankees. Do you have your own blog? No? Oh well then you probably don’t know that I hate you.

...You see a preview at the movies for a scary movie and scream at the scary parts of the preview. Did I mention this is a preview? The scene is not even set up yet, you don’t even know the story or what’s going on, just someone getting stabbed on the screen. I’m actually scared to see you in everyday life, how do you cope with anything because I’m not so sure how a preview translates into fright, but I’m certain how you translate into hate.

...You respond to me saying I am going to be out sick, by saying ok. A “hope you feel better” would be nice. Of course we both know I’m normally playing hooky, but this time I’m puking out of my ass, a little sign of being a human from time to time would be nice. It’s like you just assume I’m out interviewing because god forbid you understand that I actually have a case of the Montezuma’s revenge because then I wouldn’t be able to hate you.

...You have a jack and jill wedding shower. Let’s not get started on the annoyance of all the wedding events that take place, but hey, I’m a guy so most of them are for women, that is until now. What kind of loser asshole man decided or gave into his soon to be torturer that now instead of the women gathering to exchange houseware, the men should show up. This is for what reason now? Oh right just of the many many reasons I hate you.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Dude looks like a hate

...You wait for a subway car to empty, then you consciously move to stand right in front of the door before people get on. You are certainly up to some tom foolery here. You make everyone think you’re actually getting off the subway, but instead, you pull the wool over our eyes and stop right in your tracks which happens to be right in the tracks of everyone else so now we have to huff at your annoyingness instead of telling you out loud that we hate you.

...You are a chick in porn and are wearing nicotine patches. Not to say I regularly watch porn, but I were to see such an instance well then I must say, there is nothing sexier than a woman with a couple of nicotine patches. Oh wait, there is one thing sexier, and that’s a woman wearing a couple of nicotine patches, PLUS having tan lines where former patches once resided. I thought skinamax had a little more class than this for their soft core. Yes, I should be hating myself for watching soft core, but instead I’m hating you.

...You are a damn fly that flies around my head so I wave my arms trying to get it out of the way at which point I look insane. You only show your face when in public places, such as a park, on the street, the beach or on occasion while driving. You are wily adversary escaping nature’s fly swatter and all the while creating the illusion to onlookers that insanity is present and hatred is you.

...You wear gloves while lifting at the gym. I must be looking at magnus sir magnussan von magnusville. I swear I saw you on the world’s strongest man competition, you were the most gentlemanly of all competitors, after lifting a 500 pound boulder your hands were still as smooth as silk, oh wait, I’m confusing you with someone that actually needs gloves, not you that only lifts on machines, machines that have a spongy grip texture to protect and machines that have me to hate you.

...You are working furiously on your novel and/or screen play while at starbucks or any other coffee shop. We get it, you’re an “artiste” we understand. I think that was trendy circa 93. You know you get your extra large mocha cocoa latte frapalingo, you wear thick frame glasses and you sit with a scarf in the middle of July to open your macbook, and then only use Microsoft word to type these three words of your screenplay: I am hated.

...You buy a mac computer. I know the deal, you think you’re making a statement about yourself, you’re not a part of corporate America, you’re an individual, a person that makes up his own mind without “the man” trying to tell him what to do. Then you walk down to your starbucks which has become so corporate that’s it’s okay to go there again because that makes it ironic, then you sit with all your other macbook using friends while you attempt to act bohemian but instead only act hated.

...You are a street rapper. I don’t mean a person that raps on the street as a talent, I mean the guy that may or may not be wearing headphones that walks down the street at an angry pace, droppin some lyrics on anyone within ear shot. I know you’ve experience the 5’9” man wearing a XXXXXXXL T-shirt with some sort of red hat that is lookin pretty hardcore and uses the N word no less than 14 times as you pass and as you hate.

Monday, September 10, 2007

A hate in the hand is worth two in the bush

...You are suited up for the tour de france to cycling over the Brooklyn Bridge. You are such a douche. Not only are you over prepared to bike through a tourist trap, but you get pissed, some would say violent even, at those innocently biking over a leisurely pace. Of all the places and all the bridges in the city, you have to bike over this bridge on a beautiful holiday weekend? It’s like purposely set yourself up to piss yourself off and set yourself up to be hated.

...You use the word ‘bad’ to express that you think something is cool. Well holy shit, it looks like someone finally invented a time machine because it apparently must be 1985 again. Check out these new parachute pants, they’re so boss. You must be wearing the parachute pants with your member’s only jacket and a polo shrit with the collar turned up, if you’re feelin a little crazy, you can wear a head band, a tiger striped headband. When you wear these clothes, you’ll make sure they are all bright colors that don’t match and then you won’t just be bad, but you’ll also be hated.

...You stop and talk to someone in the cafeteria and keep them chatting for what seems like hours. Oh please go right ahead and interrupt my lunch with your nonsensical dribble about whether we should have 7 meetings about nothing or 8. Yes of course this is much more important than ensuring I am fed, because scheduling a pointless meeting is a much better contribution to my day and a much better contribution to my hate.

...You are a woman wearing a low cut top to display your hairy boobs. I know this sounds incredibly juvenile, to the point that one would question the very existence of said hairy boobs, but I shit you not. On a rather humid summer day, I was commuting home from the office via subway. I was standing, hanging on to the rail, when I looked down and witnessed one of the more frightening scenes I’ve seen all year. It was a fairly rotund middle aged woman, wearing what seemed like a V-neck shirt, however while seated it just appeared to be a large mess, but between those two mounds, was a hairy situation, literally. I’ve got a bit of the ‘ol chest hair myself, but this my friends was a woman, this my friends was substantially more than mine and this my friends, was hate.

...You are a cackling group of middle aged sheltered ignorant women that have never tried Thai food before except for one that had it once. You know this isn’t some novelty store where you can come in and look at vibrators and giggle to each other. This is where us hungry people like to get takeout and in order to eat we have to order and in order to order you have to move your fat asses away from the register. If I never encounter another group of large bottomed, lesbian hair-cutted, broadway show touring, fanny pack and acid wash jean wearing middle aged pseudo dyke women, it will be too soon. In the meantime I’ll have to settle for hating you.

...You have a striking resemblance to sloth from goonies and are lifting at the gym, when you see me laugh at something unrelated, you walk up to me, bump into me and say “outta my way FAGGOT”. Well excuse me shrek, you are grotesque, of course people are going to stare and snicker behind your back, that’s why you take steroids I get that. But listen, your repressed homoerotic fantasies should be made clear at the gym, you are so bustedly ugly that not one person would look at you in any way other than one of curiosity, the same way people paid to see the elephant man and the same way people come here to hate you.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

The hate that Ruth built

...You are an innocent bystander in the stands at a sporting event when you see people wandering aimlessly trying to find their seats and decide to help them. I didn’t realize that the stadium has now appointed a concierge for each section, why don’t you mind your own damn business. You seem to not realize that amidst the boring sport of baseball, there is a little bit of side entertainment, namely the three fat ladies that have tried to sit in every single seat except their actual seats until you came along and got hated.

...You at a sporting event where you are routing for the visiting team while sitting among fans of the home team and feel the need to obnoxiously cheer and applaud by yourself when your team scores. Well look at what we have here, this guy wants to let everyone know that he’s a fan of the other team. Not only does he want to let us know, but he insists upon making all this noise when his team scores so that everyone around him wants to fight him but has to settle for hating him.

...You propose marriage on the jumbotron. Wow, now that is an original idea, where did you come up with that one? Not only is it unique, but it’s classy too. In my 30 years on this earth, I’ve heard so many women say how much they have always wanted their proposal to be announced on a giant screen at a sporting event and then have their ring hidden in a hot dog. I know that trailer will be a rockin tonight and I know I’ll be hatin you now.

...You show up to baseball game wearing a classic polo shirt with a sweater over your shoulders. Really? Wow, this is straight out of pretty in pink, I can’t believe I’m sitting next to Blaine. I’m thinking that you’re a little confused as to what type of sporting event you’re attending, let’s clear the air, there is no actual polo match here, no horsies, just a bunch of white trash, wearing lots of man jewelry, drinking lots of beer, all for the hate of you.

...You aggressively clap your hands at a sporting event as if this will somehow inspire your team to score. There’s certainly applause, that’s your reward for doing something good, but then there’s APPLAUSE which is found when your team has 2 strikes on the opponent with 2 outs or when there’s 15 seconds left in 3 point game or when your team has just gotten an interception. It’s the point at which you’re doing all you can to help the home team along, the ferocious hand clap will certainly intimidate any opposing team and will certainly win you the title of most hated of the day.

...You are doing anything to get the attention of the jumbotron at a sporting event. You’re the person that goes out of your way to be seen on the jumbotron, the older guy dancing between every inning or time out, the guy that brings that clever sign using the letters from a TV station or the person wearing that crazy hat. That’s just some good ‘ol fashion fun and some good ‘ol fashion hate.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Are you gonna hate my way

...You are “protesting” something you support. This is a more recent phenomenon where people go to protest the war or the sitting president, which by all means is expected, but then oddly, there is somewhat of a mystery where people show up to these ‘protests’ to do what I don’t really know, but it appears as though they are protesting the protesters or perhaps protesting their own support? This is a fairly ridiculous concept given that the people to whom the president is speaking are deemed to be supporters already so why are you outside with placards showing your support, when in actuality you should be at home getting hated?

...You are a ski nazi. Yes a little off season, but think back if you will, think back to early February, you’re up in Vermont, you have a house with a few people, you stay up the night before having a few beverages, it’s cold outside, you want to sleep in a little, even if it’s just to 8 or 9, hit the mountain by 11 or so. Nope. Can’t happen with the ski nazi who’s up at 630, fully dressed by 645, clunking around the house in his ski boots by 650, in your room yelling by 655 and hated by 7.

...You call a service provided by a company, diabolical. So they now have a plan for world domination? Do you even know what that means? Do you know how to use a dictionary? I think perhaps you mean abdominal, detestable or deplorable, but diabolical? It is now apparent to me that it is true that you never went to college, I’m even doubting high school. I mean have ever even seen a movie or a cartoon? Perhaps that’s too advanced for your tiny little brain, but the only thing about diabolical that you will see is hate.

...You schedule an interview with me and then show up 20 minutes late. Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re the one that called me to meet, you are the one courting me, yet you can’t even have the decency to show up on time? You’re definitely starting of on the wrong foot here, have you ever heard of first impressions? It’s not all about me impressing you old man, that’s the stone age. I want you to wow me, how’s that for a reverse cliché and how’s that for hating you.

...You are not paying attention to your local starbucks barrista when they are calling out that your order is ready. Its coffee, they’re not baking you a cake, it takes all of about 19 seconds, is that too fucking long for you to pay attention? Now you’re holding up the line so the rest of us drones have to wait even longer for our coffee, but you don’t have to wait to get hated.

...You cc yourself. Better make sure you send that email to yourself, because if you didn’t you might actually have to go into your sent folder to find it. You’re probably the same people that delete every email after they’ve printed it for their paper files. You really haven’t caught on to this whole technology-internet thing have you? It’s little difficult for that tiny brain of your to comprehend, it’s also difficult for that tiny brain of yours to comprehend me hating you.

...You fart in an elevator as you exit and I enter. Great! Now I’m riding solo here and everyone that gets on at a different floor will think I’m the culprit. I can’t believe you just gave me a leave behind. What an awkward moment when I’m standing there smelling that rotten odor, knowing it was not me yet other people are now staring me down because they can’t believe I would do such a thing. Now I have to somehow start a conversation and then somehow convince them it was not me. This is typically done under my breathe while I hate you.