Wednesday, March 12, 2008

What we hate in life, echoes in eternity

...You take my gym clothes from a locker in the men’s locker room. Really? A sweaty pair of 6 year old track pants and sweaty hoodie that hasn’t been washed in at least a year. This is what you want to steal? Nothing in the pockets either, you see, I run to the gym, workout, then run home, there’s nothing there except clothes to keep me warm and a blog to keep you hated.

...You name your child after yourself. You are the archetype of arrogance. You are so wonderful that you felt obligated to give your name to your child who will be stuck with it no matter how much he hates you when he’s 17, sort of a constant reminder of your douchiness and a constant reminder of how much I hate you.

...You are at a soup vendor or ice cream vendor and ask for a taste of a soup or flavor. Asking for a taste in and of itself, perhaps not hated, but then holding up a line to meticulously evaluate said flavor by taking multiple “tastes” from the mini spoon provided that clearly represents just enough to place it on the tip of your tongue, well that is hated, just like you.

...You come into my office while I’m eating lunch and attempt to conduct business. Do I come to your office as you shove three slices of pizza into your mouth at the same time? No I don’t, you want to know why? Because whitnessing that will cause me not to eat for a week and also, because I actually respect the fact that you might want to eat in private while you try to get a little work done. I’m minding my own business here, trying to eat, and all you can seem to do is bother me with non urgent shit, so now I’m determined to bother you with urgent hate.

...You put on your blinker then immediately slam on your brakes. Either you signaling way too late or you are 90. whichever the case may be, your license should be revoked. I’m really not a stickler for rules, but I do appreciate some semblance of order in the world. You would seemingly be aware that there is a car behind you, and a rational person would want to avoid having that car slam into the rear of their own, yet you’re a risk taker apparently, you walk that fine line between danger and the insane and I walk the fine line between sarcasm and hate.

...You no longer sell Skippy low-fat chunky peanut butter at my local supermarket. Is this like some massive intervention effort to get me to kick the habit? Ok, I get it, 5 jars a week is a tad excessive, but it’s really a great all purpose food. Perhaps, regaining consciousness at 4 in the morning on the kitchen floor with two empty jars at my side was a warning sign, perhaps. Or perhaps I just know a good thing when I see it and perhaps I know a good hate when I see it.

...You are at a “new” job for more than 3 months and make the comment, “oh I’m new here, I don’t understand”. Being new has it’s perks and it has its limitation. Once you know the notorious bathroom occupant, the office slut, the guy that farts in his office and the spit talker, you lose the right to make the excuse that you’re new and you lose the right to avoid my hate.

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