I Hate You If

You say you want a hate-olution

2009-09-09T00:00:00.000-04:00

...You do not exit the elevator when it arrives at your floor. Come on little turtle it’s okay, no one’s gonna bite you out here. I’m not sure why it takes so long for you to exit, that by the time you decide to leave, the doors are closing and then someone has to push the button to open them again and then we all have to stand around and wait for the doors to close yet again before we start to hate you.

...You think it’s so hysterical that a plastic flower will play music and “dance” whenever you press a button. Do blowing bubbles still get you too? I can’t believe we work in the same company and that you probably make more money than me, how can it be that a fortysomething year old man gets so happy at a piece of plastic with a speaker and how is it that a thirtysomething year old man can spend so much energy hating you.

...You are finished with your work for the day and leave the office at 5:00 where upon leaving the office shut all the lights, including the hallway, even though you obviously are the first person to leave. Well, that’s the end of the day for me, so that’s the end of the day for everyone. I commend your effort to shut it down by 5, but seriously, everyone is still here, it’s not like it’s even close to being late, in fact, I think the actual office hours are until 5:30 and I think my actual hate is for you.

...You have headphones that are actually a radio. Look at yourself, no take a really good look at yourself, are you wearing cutoff jean shorts, roller skates, white tube socks pulled up to your knees? Are you on Venice beach? No, of course you’re not which means you are ineligible to wear radio headphones (with an antenna mind you), you are only eligible for hate.

...You are in a supermarket and refuse to carry a basket or use a cart. You’ve got about 19 items that you’re juggling in your hands and balancing on all parts of your body, but you just won’t break down and admit that you need the basket. Is there a sense of pride here? A sense that you are too much of a tough guy to use a mechanism that allows you to carry many more items that would otherwise be possible? Rest assured knowing that you are not too much of a tough guy to be hated by me.

...You work at the gym and bring your McD’s dinner to eat in front of all the salivating blobs as the aroma permeates the building. I’m still conducting studies as to if this actually aides in the weight loss regimen or contributes to obesity. Are the blobs incentivized to work out harder so they can get home and eat or are they demotivated to the point that they give up after 5 minutes and head straight to the nearest Wendy’s? This is an eternal question and also an eternal hate.

I always feel like somebody's hatin me

2009-08-31T23:05:00.002-04:00

...You are orange. You are so tan that you have a DayGlo orange hue about you. Apparently you've been using that new sun tan lotion that's spf 0. In most places on the planet, people are embarrassed to be too tan, it means they've been working long hours out in the rice fields, but to you it means you were a drunken whore in the Hamptons all weekend and on this blog it means you're hated.

...You give the prayer-yoga sign when saying thank you in an awful attempt to be humble, however the only reason you are even showing appreciation and saying thank you is because you were fishing for a compliment. You say you're not good at something, say hate blogging, then the unfortunate soul having to be on the receiving end of your conversation must reply with a compliment about how you are really funny and a great hater. Your reaction is oh thank you, namaste, I bow to you and I hate you.

...You are a help desk and offer no additional help than everyone already knows. So on one of your 13 crashes of the week, you call the help desk for your company. After waiting for 20 minutes to be connected to India, you are greeted with the most "helpful" suggestions. Have you rebooted? hmmm oh, have you tried to restart? Have you tried to change your password? These are the genius responses only to be followed up with having to create a ticket, waiting 3 days for the techie to show up and ask I've restarted, and then about 3 seconds to hate you.

...You request to be my friend on Facebook after I've defriended you. Yes it's true, it actually happened, someone doesn't want to read your updates about your headache, the traffic on the way to work, the diarrhea you have or that your making lunch. I don't want to know these things about myself, why do I care about someone I spoke to once in high school to ask if there was homework. All this nonsense gets you one less friend and gets me one more hate.

...You have yourself a little fiesta in the conference room, but refuse to clean up your mess when it's done. Yes, it's great to have a little celebration for the $15 you raised with the 3k fundraiser run. So what do you do? Why you spend $50 ordering pizza to make sure you put on any weight you may have lost during this courageous effort. Now that the celebration has ended, you leave a massive mound of rotting garbage for all to see, smell and hate.

...You are an urban Sherpa. You have a backpack that is the size of a large child, yet walk into the subway as though you are skinnier than a hipster. You fail to recognize the hiking equipment on your back as you turn left, turn right and try to squeeze into a 4 inch wide standing room only space. You also fail to recognize that other people actually exist in the same space and time which means you must also fail to recognize that I hate you.

Statler and Waldorf's Infinite Hatelist

2009-07-11T19:58:00.001-04:00

...You are some sort of automated dialing system that whereby you receive an email from me, your phone instantly dials my office. Apparently you miss the point and the beauty of email, this can be used to avoid long winded conversations with people such as yourself. I’m trying to have the least amount of communication with you while still getting work completed, this can be achieved entirely through email with a little bit of hating you.

...You see that I’m holding the door for you and then take your sweet ass time to get to the door and walk through. You must think the entire world is under employment for you. We all carefully move and adjust our lives in a way to serve your and make your life more comfortable, because why else would a nice young gentleman such as myself freely give up 30 seconds of his life to hold the door for you? That’s right I didn’t it was gesture where you failed to live up to your end of the bargain where you give a half ass jog to the door thereby meeting me halfway between being nice and hating you.

…You don’t say thank you when I hold the door for you. This is a common courtesy, I do something nice for you, you reply with a simple thank you. I realize that you are special and deserve to have doors held for you, you should expect it, it would be rude if someone didn’t hold the door for you, so naturally why should you thank them. You want to know why? Because the next time I see you, I’m going shut the door in your face, then hold it shut so you can’t open it, then I’ll laugh and laugh, maybe I’ll even point, all because I hate you.

...You are sending a fax, you have the wrong number, you hear loud obnoxious sounds (i.e.BEEP BEEP), then walk away. As pleasing to the ear as that beeping sound may be, I prefer that it go away. When you dial a phone number and find out it doesn’t work, do you put the phone down and walk away? NO, you hang it up, a fax machine works the same way, you see that big red button that says “stop”? Well you guessed it, that stops the call, stops the noise and stops my hate.

I'm Back Into Hating Again

2009-06-30T21:21:00.001-04:00

...You blow your nose into a tissue or napkin and then once you are done honking, you pull it away from your face, spread it open and have yourself a good looksie. Upon revealing the wondrous treasure inside your semi unfolded tissue you give a look of either great pride or utter disappoint in your latest effort in a life long quest for the perfect boogie which happens to be my latest effort in a life long quest for the perfect hate.

...You are hosting a meeting with mostly those young whippersnappers and try to connect with the young “professionals” and think to yourself, what better way to connect with a younger generation than to make a self deprecating comment referencing my baldness such as “when I’m writing up here on the board, please don’t be distracted by the glare off my head”, let the hilarity ensue and let the hatred begin.

...You are hosting a meeting with such a mundane subject matter like the results from your employee satisfaction survey or new ethics policy and instead of treating the subject matter as it should be, a waste of time, you are unnaturally excited, almost to the point of creepily excited, but recognizing this disturbing trend you state that you’ve had too much caffeine this morning as if that’s a way to validate an almost orgasmic level of excitement for my new reason for hating you.

Me and my hate, we got a relationship

2008-03-14T06:03:00.001-04:00

...You wear cordoroys and you have fat chaffing thighs. All day I hear your swooshing thankles roaming the halls. You have to know you can be heard 3 floors away, giving away your position and giving way for my hate.

...You are Valerie Bertinelli. How on earth have you managed to stay in the “news” for like 30 years. You were on One Day at a Time, you were cute, then you disappeared only to re-emerged as some celebrity treat every time you showed up a “Monday night movie” where you played a young woman that was raped yet somehow, because of your strength, overcame tragedy but never overcame my hate.

...You wait in a 15 person line in one of the four Starbucks on your block, then when you get to the register you still don't know what you want. What did you think when you walked into a store that serves COFFEE. How is this different than any of the other 17 times you’ve been in today and how is it different than any of the other 17 time I've hate you today.

...You work at Starbucks and are thoroughly confused when someone orders a medium. You fucking know exactly what I’m talking about, but that $8 and hour really has you brain washed to the point that you attempt to speak another language. Fact, referring to large as venti an intellectual it does not make. Fact, working at Starbucks is not essential to your screenwriting career. Fact, working at Starbucks will get you hated.

...You are the guy on the subway that wears his aviators. Ok, we get it, you're cool. Look at you, so mysterious. I’m sure you look pretty cool when your foot gets caught in the gap and I’m sure you look even cooler when I hate you....you walk into a bathroom and see 14 empty urinals with me at the end, then you proceed to use the one right next to me. Words can't describe my confusion, are you hoping for a peek? Next time you stand next to me, don't be surprised if your shoes get wet and don’t surprised if you get hate.

...You work in an office, yet you still don't know how to use a computer. Computers have been in every office since what, 1995? You've had 10 years to learn that the little picture of a disk in the upper left hand corner means save. How do you still have this job? Why must you ask me every time? I think it's time for a career change and I think it’s time for a hate.

What we hate in life, echoes in eternity

2008-03-12T23:22:00.001-04:00

...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.

I'm saving all my hate for you

2008-03-11T06:24:00.000-04:00

...You are part of a book club. You and your Oprah buddies gather round once a week so you can feel like you’re so intelligent and have such relevance in an otherwise irrelevant existence. You can’t even select books to “read” on your own, you have to have Oprah tell you what to read, god forbid you develop your own thought or opinion, but at least I’ve developed my own hate.

...You say love daylight savings becuse when you get out of work it's still light out. Really? I would have guessed that you enjoy getting out work when it's dark, its cold, its raining, but not just any rain, the rain where it's about 33 degrees and some of it comes down as ice the rest as cold as water in the bottom of a cooler. I'm just saying that's what I would have thought, not that you enjoy nice sunny weather or nice gloomy hate.

...You are running on a narrow, crowded sidewalk and get pissed when people are in your way. That’s a brilliant idea, idea I must say, run where’s it crowded, run on smog infest city streets with exhausts blasting your face, but then get pissed when people are walking on the sideWALK. I am going to stalk you until the next time I see you walking on a crowded sidewalk, at which point I’ll run by you, turn around run by you again, turn around, run by you yet again, I will continue to repeat each time making some sort of obnoxious sound to let you know I’m pissed at you for being in MY way, but never actually stopping to say anything. This is the world in which we have live because of you and this is hate we have live in because of you.

...You enter a men’s room and see an option of 5 stalls, two of contain occupants, the other three have unlocked, half open doors and are clearly unoccupied, you approach the nearest occupied stall (mine) and knock. This of course causes me to have to interrupt the only peaceful 5 minutes of my day with an uncomfortable clearing of the throat and a stern pronouncement that the stall is occupied. Your reckless approach to bathroom behavior is going to get you into trouble one of these days, but for now it’s getting you into hate.

...You feel you can just yell out to people from your cube when you want to talk to them. Go right ahead, there’s obviously no one else trying to do any work and your conversation with every single person of your unending quest to lose 5 pounds (35 to few) is critical information to my day and not just one day, but every single day by day by day by day by day by hate by you.

...You say “I’m hungry for lunch now” when it’s 11:30 and then feel the need to qualify with a snide, “because I get up so early”. You know, we fucking get it, you get in the office early, you work weekends, you work late, you work at home, boo fuckedy hoo. No one is telling you to dedicate every waking hour to work, you my friend are the worker bee, you will never advance because then the work wouldn’t actually get done, you will be surpassed by people younger and less experienced than you, because you can not move work and because you actually do the work while I sit around and hate you.

...You roll down the window of your car, lean out and just say the name of a street to me. And what about this street? Ohhhhhhhh, I get it, you are lost, you need MY help, so you decide to pull over, interrupt me while I’m walking and demand that I help you. You are not even demanding, you are just saying the name of a street as though you’re in a foreign country where they don’t speak the language. How about trying to be a little more considerate of the fact that you’re the one that’s lost, I hold the 30 minutes to an hour of your life in my hands, I can choose to help you or I can choose to hate you.

...You are wearing tight rolled pants. I must admit, I have yet to see this, but we’re dealing with a pre-emptive hate. I’ve seen this 80’s revival go one step too far and it’s only a matter of time before some hipster busts out his “ironic” pair of tight rolled acid wash jeans. Here’s my rational, at a night out in the billy berg, I started to see where things have headed, let’s just say the past 6 months I’ve been more of a hermit, so I re-emerge to find legitimate mullets, tight art deco sweaters, fanny packs, florescent colors and all the other bad styles from the 80’s that should never be brought bad, as a joke or otherwise. But then I saw the deneumont (I have no idea how to spell that), it was a man wearing what appeared to be an all white Z Cavarechi suit, you know a very high waist and very short jacket that is tight at the waist, but that’s not the best part, the best part was the mirrors from a disco ball that were attached to the jacket forming vertical stripes and forming my hate.

I've abandoned my child! I've abandoned my hate!

2008-03-06T23:51:00.002-05:00

...You speak in whisper voice. There are two acceptable whispers, a dog whisperer or to tell me something dirty that can’t be spoken at normal conversational levels. You on other hand speak only in whisper speak, speak the fuck up you self conscious, socially inept, annoyance. Just because you’re dumb, doesn’t mean you should whisper, that only makes me ask you to repeat yourself 7 times. In fact, try not saying anything at all, after which, I’ll try not hating you.

...You respond to the question “how are you” by saying, good, busy but good. No one asked if you’re busy all right, its as though you are telling that other person, they can’t possibly understand the amount of work you are enduring. Certainly not, because apparently you have to chit chat all day on the phone telling everyone you know how busy you are, that must be exhausting. I think you have a checklist of people to call each day of the week to express how busy you are and I have checklist of people to blog each day to express how hated they are.

...You make it a point to let everyone know that you worked “late” the night before. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I was here much later than you, not because I have to, but because I wanted to see what the fuck you actually do, you stayed about 5 minutes past the last person that left, which was 7:05. Wow, that’s a long day, working 930 to 7. Do you have any concept of what it means to work? Not to wear a badge of honor for hours worked, but working 45 hours a week is nothing, try anywhere north of 80 then come talk to me. I feel like I’m on vacation with these BS jobs, I can do your job in about all of 1 hour a week the rest of the time, I just sit around and hate you.

...You say you used to speak Spanish, but not very good. Apparently English isn’t your fortay either. It’s well you fool, well. I guess this means you had 2 years of high school Spanish, right? You’re not some 75 yr old grandma that emigrated from Cuba when she was 15 and stopped speaking the language to assimilate. You’re a 30 yr old fat girl from Long Island that can’t even speak English correctly, you never could speak Spanish, conjugating the verbs ir and ser does mean you once spoke Spanish, it means you only know hate.

...You bang your arm/hand against a table or desk when you are making an emphatic point or listing out items. Oh the life and times of an idiot, sitting amongst the masses is great, you can really connect with the unfortunate segment of the population. I know you worked so hard to remember those 6 words, you’re a champ! You did it all on your own without any note cards, you didn’t even shake your head with each word this time. Please do us all a favor and just go away, just disappear no questions asked, this way, I won’t have to hate you.

...You work in a deli and wear a prophylactic on your hand in hopes of preventing the spread of germs from your poop infested hand, yet when people go to pay, you take their money with said prophylactic covered hand. Do you have any concept of where money has been? No, of course not because, if you did, you would realize that it’s dirtier than a port-o-potty toilet. Try using the glove hand for food, the naked hand for money, and my blog for hate.

...You have asymmetrical hair. You are either on the cutting edge of 2005 fashion ORRRR you have several bald spots and have concocted a creative way to cover your aging scalp. I vote the latter, although I’m sure you are bit of both. You notice some thinning of the hair, some scalp spots, then being that you are too old to be cutting edge, you think of styles of from 3 or 4 years ago and there you have it, there you have me hating you.

They may take our jobs, but they will never take our hate

2008-03-04T22:44:00.000-05:00

...You fire me from my job because of this blog. This is the amalgamation of Jerry McGuire’s treatise, the burn book from Mean Girls and the episode of the Wonder Years when Kevin breaks up with Becky Slater and she tells everyone how Kevin made fun of them. Here’s the deal, I actually say the truth of how a completely mismanaged firm is run – there’s your Mr. McGuire. I call out people for simple truths, from a striking resemblance to a particular muppet, to calling people out for (such as my boss) her complete ineptitude and lack of anything that slightly resembles a human soul – there’s your burn book. Finally, just days after I accept a transfer (the break up), everyone at the firm (that’s referenced in the blog) gets the joy and pleasure of seeing what yours truly said about them when the She-Devil forwards exactly what I said about each particular person, to that actual person – Enter Becky Slater. The funny thing is that this blog is completely anonymous with no reference to anyone by name, no company name, nothing, the only way to know I was talking about She-Devil or anyone else would be for her to know that she is guilty of being hated by me (after tapping into my computer of course).

...You work in any office cafeteria and are completely incapable of preparing food that even remotely resembles my order. You have to ask me about 7 times to achieve only about 50% of my order. I have to play mind games and purposely leave things out thinking you’ll automatically include them and then I have to include things so that you can leave them out and so I can hate you.

...You proudly display your college diploma from University of I Couldn’t Get in Any Where Else, in your office. Congratulations on that one, that’s quite the achievement, I mean your curriculum was more basic than an average high school, but some how you did it. Not only did you graduate, but look at you now, college grad, you’re big time, kudos. Not only do you have that glorious diploma to display, but you even went back to school for a certificate in I Paid $5000 for Two Courses Because I Couldn’t Get In To Grad School There is only one other achievement more worthy of praise, and that is me, hating you.

...You attend a book reading. You go to actually watch a person read to you. This beats out books on tape by miles, it’s as though you have some child fetish whereby someone reads to you like you are still a child. You makes excuses and rationalize this behaviour through your pretentious Q&A session afterwards where you listen to the author pontificate about how much he hates you.

...You come into work and say you have “like ten things to do” and only get to 2 of them. You know why you only get to two of them? Because you sit on the phone telling everyone how busy you are. I swear I started to doubt that anyone is actually on the other end of that line, who can possibly speak for that long without ever taking a breath, not to mention you are in a fucking cube, there are other people around you that are trying to concentrate on hating you.

...You leave your cell phone on ring or even vibrate and are never at your cube. Thank you because I love the interruptions of hearing your cell phone ring every 10 minutes, do your friends have jobs? What I love more than hearing the phone ring is hearing the beeping sound every 30 seconds to let you know you have a new message. You better hurry up to check those messages so you can get mine and find out that I hate you.

I got my hate set on you

2008-03-02T21:14:00.000-05:00

...You arrive at yoga class about 20 minutes early so that you can get the spot right up in front and start your warm ups. Let’s all try to understand this shall we? You are doing yoga, which consists of stretching, so in order to warm up for your stretching, you stretch. I know what you’re really up to, you have to prove to everyone that you know what you are doing and are some sort of yoga expert, thereby making you better than everyone in the class. You know what, you get the gold medal of YMCA yoga class, you deserve it champ, because all the people that actually practice yoga are not doing so during a free class at their local Y, they are only hating you.

...You walk into a coffee room at the office, see 2 or more people and then say “wow, looks like a party”. I’m not sure what kind of parties you go to, but my impression of a party is not 3 people avoiding eye contact as they wait in line for shitty Flavia coffee. My idea of a party consists of lots of alcohol, 3 midgets, a pony, rubber gloves, eye protection and hate for you.

...You are an old 3 foot tall, hobbit shaped woman with cankles the size of my thighs that when walking can barely move, but when you enter a subway you move quicker than LT during his peak coke days as you dash for a seat. Is getting a seat really that important to you? I’ve seen you bulldoze kids and even baby’s in strollers just for that prime germ infested piece of real estate. I hope you’re happy with that seat as you go from 23rd street to 28th street, god forbid you have to stand for 17 seconds and got forbid I commute without hating you for 17 seconds.

...You are waiting in a line and leave a gap between you and the next person of at least 5 feet. This is great, now it looks like there’s a group of people just sort of hanging around either borderline Forrest or not in the line, so the next 3 people that enter the store get in front of you, which means, they’re in front of me, which means, another 5 minutes of life will be spent waiting in a line, which means I hate you.

...You insist on creating an agenda for a meeting that indicates three “action items”. If you are incapable of saying the three things you need to talk about at the very beginning of a meeting, perhaps you don’t belong holding meetings. Its three things, two of which, everyone already knows because that’s why they’re attending the meeting in the first place, the third of course is a detailed explanation of why I hate you.

...You create an agenda for a meeting as the first order of business, you list: Agenda. So you had to create an agenda to tell everyone in a meeting that you’ll be talking about the agenda. This is circular logic, it’s a dog chasing it’s tail, it’s throwing up before you eat, it’s two mirrors facing each other and it’s me hating you.

Rebirth of Hate

2008-02-28T18:35:00.000-05:00

...You fire me from my job because of this blog. Oh boo hoo some kid hurt my feelings because I may or may not have been referenced in his blog. Let’s not be so arrogant to think I was even talking about you. In the cases I was, it’s a fucking joke, take that large stick out of your ass and get a sense of humor. In case you hadn’t noticed most of the hate is about myself, my girlfriend, my family, my friends, co workers and random strangers. This is not an actual account of people I hate, except now of course for you.

...You sneeze and make an exaggerated AHHHH, AHHHHHH, CHHOOOOOOOOOOOO. Ok, we get it, you’re here, yay for us. All the prairie dogs are popping up out of their cubes to see that it was the 40 yr old woman that didn’t get enough attention from daddy when she was 12 and now has to disrupt an entire office every time she sneezes, to her dismay this does not attract the desired attention, it only attracts my hate.

...You make a point of telling everyone you worked all weekend, a holiday weekend no less, when someone asks how your weekend went. Hooraay for you, it takes you that much longer to get done what everyone else gets done in less time. You are a model of inefficiency and you are a model of hate.

...You explain 7 times in a 3 minute conversation that you read the material we are discussing “over the weekend”. So what you’re telling me is that you read this during the weekend? You mean that time when people tend to their personal lives, like friends and family, those things that you are apparently lacking and are only capable of tending to my hate?

...You decide that on February 28th it is relevant and appropriate to wish someone Happy New Year. My friends, we are on the brink of something special here, this is it, this is the thesis of my blog. Do people ever think before they get out of bed in the morning? And I do mean that early because it will take you that long to really think about something by the time you open your mouth and by the time I hate you.

...You call me to tell me you are sending me an email. You are a beacon of productivity, if someone needs a job done, you are the person to call. I pray that some day I will be able to understand the reason behind a phone call where you say: hey I’m sending you this email, you will see it, I’d like you to open and read it. I’m going to start calling you to say: Hey I’m writing in my blog, I would like for you to go to my site and be hated.

...You are a rather portly girl at the gym and pull your unimagineably tight spandex up 3 inches beyond your navel to thereby “hide” the rolling hills that are your gunt. Somewhere along the line this misappropriation of spandex got out of control. By covering your rolls with the tight stretchy material, you only accentuate your repulsiveness and accentuate my hate.

...You claim that your brand new paper thin mac book was stolen. Well perhaps that’s because you were just too busy writing your screenplay at hipster friendly version of Starbucks. I know you’re just dying to be the next Diablo Cody, but making sure everyone sees you attempting to make the wittiest piece of entertainment in the last 7 minutes is more important, which is why when you went to get your 4th refill some one swiped your mac book and left you with hate.

Guess Who's Back..

2008-02-26T22:24:00.000-05:00

...Back again.

...You can't wait a few more days for the hate to return. It's been 3 months of hate just building, building and building. Building for you.

I'm bringing Hating back

2007-11-16T15:02:00.000-05:00

...You say “tag you’re it” after we’ve left each other numerous voicemail messages. Holy shit, how clever of you. Actually, you’re not so clever, because you apparently are not listening to the times I call you, 7 AM, 930 PM, 2AM. You see, I have no desire to speak to you, I’m avoiding you, do you think I’m not in my office at 9AM every single day for 7 weeks? Do you think I’m not hating you at 9AM every single day for seven weeks?

...You pick your ears right in front of me during a one on one meeting. Look guy, that’s the one notch south of picking your nose, but then you bring right back up when you fling it across the room and then wipe it on the desk when flinging fails. I didn’t think I’d ever have to be sending out a memo on the proper rules of decorum while engaging in a business meeting, but apparently I do and apparently I hate.

...You are speaking to me in a meeting and suddenly say, “well, now wearing my corporate hat…” They’re giving out hats now? I want you to think back to when you were 12 years old, now think about how you thought you’re life would turn out, you picturing a baseball player, maybe a fireman, Nope you’re a corporate monkey that uses lame ass catch phrases because you have absolutely no original thoughts, but only original hate.

...You make yet another epic movie about some mythical land that will no doubt have a location called mordor. How many more of these mythical movies can be made and why do they all have to 4 hours long? At what point did the Dungeon Master take control of Hollywood, at what point did people stop beating up said Master and at point did I start hating you?

...You actually create a map of Mordor and post it on the internet, then you are one of the hundred thousand other people that copy that map and post it on your own blog that is dedicated to Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter or Cronicles of Narnia or Hating you.

...You are my girlfriend and tell me your list of “free passes”. It isn’t fair that I went first and it also isn’t fair because you’re free passes would actually do it with you. Something tells me that if you walked up to Orlando Bloom or whatever his name is, that he’d be interested, and I’m not just saying this because you’re my girlfriend either, it’s certainly possible. Me, on the other will never have a chance with Shakira or any of the “free passes”. That said, I’m changing mine, here is my official list:

1. The drunk girl that hangs out at the bar down the street
2. The new intern
3. Profile 378292 on Match.com also known by her screen name “cum have some fun”

Now the playing field is level and now I won’t have to hate.

All this talk of Blood & Oil, is the cause of all my hating

2007-11-13T10:42:00.000-05:00

...You are working at the video game store and ask me if I’m excited about the new “Mario galaxy” game coming out next month. Do I look like the type of person that would be excited about a new video game? I didn’t realize the attire of business suit translated to computer geek, nor did I realize that 30 year olds still play children’s games. So please sir, I’ll take my Guitar Hero III and be one my way; on my way to hate you.

...You immediately try to find fault and discredit a report presentation I’m giving to you, the second I speak. I don’t care that you’re the president of the company, give me at 30 seconds to make my point, but no, this is how you get the upper hand, you put people on the defensive from the get go to take control, I know your game. Just because you look like Statler and Waldorf from the muppets doesn’t give you the right to be a dick, but it does give me the right to hate you.

...You are the person that dials the wrong number, my office number, daily then hangs up. How can you possibly get the same number you are dialing wrong, every single day? Do you even look at what you’re dialing? I know who you are, it’s called caller ID, I’m going to start doing that to you and see what you think about it and then I’ll see what I can hate you about.

...You enter the elevator and say the number of the floor to which you are going. Well apparently I look like I work here don’t I. I didn’t realize they elevator men in non doorman buildings or at all for that matter, they only exist in bad Julia Roberts movies. You didn’t even give me the chance to say what floor you going to, because seeing as I’m standing in front of the buttons, yes I would have been nice, but now that you ASSumed, I can only hate you.

...You are this guy Michael that had my office number before me and apparently gave it out to every telemarketer in existence. I spend half my day picking up the phone, then hanging it right back up, who the fuck signs up for this shit or gives their number out so willy nilly, oh right it’s a work number, a work at which you are no longer employed, a work at which I hate you.

...You pronounce Missouri as Missoura. I know you are the same people that pronounce Louisville as looaville. At what point does the “i” become and “a”? An accent, I understand accents, but this is illiterate, this is retarded and this is hated.

...You are Time Warner Cable. You come to install my cable but then will not run a wire to the bedroom because we didn’t say that initially when moving in. You then send someone out 2 weeks later to run the wire who shows up at 10:30 at night. The wire to bedroom however, gets no reception and of course he has no cable box. I then have to make another appointment to have someone come and drop off the cable box, for which I have to pay $30, even though I offered to pick up the cable box myself. Back to the other TV in living room with the alleged “great” new technology, the cable box rarely works well, cuts out randomly, again I MUST have a “technician” come to the house to change the boxes, however, the technician never shows up and I’m stuck with hating you.

I hate because I'm unhappy and I'm unhappy because I hate

2007-11-06T14:22:00.000-05:00

...You are in the elevator, it stops at a floor that is not yours, you are standing directly in front of the doors, yet for some reason do not understand that you have to move in order for people to get out. You see people cannot exit unless you move, it’s a pretty basic concept. Here’s another shocking discovery, there are other people on this planet aside from you and one more mind bender, I hate you.

...You recline the seat on an airplane before we the plane even starts moving. I know you’ve flown on a plane before, that is very apparent, I know you know that in two minutes the flight attendant is going to come by and stand next to your seat to give you a half frown, half smile look to guilt you into returning your seat to it’s upright position. I also know that you know you are completely pissing off the person behind you (read ME) because you’ve left a total of 2 inches between me, your seat and my hate for you.

...You have a baby, you go on maternity leave, then you decide you will not return to work, then not 6 months later, you’re hanging out in the office with your screaming baby even though you allegedly quit. Listen, I’ve got nothing against babies, what I am against are parents. You’re the woman that sits in the office next to the copy room, that’s all I know about you, yet for some reason you think I give a shit about your baby? The only cute babies are your own, so please don’t bring that kid in the office like it’s show and tell because all you really get is shown my hate.

...You enter the men’s room to see that all the stall doors are closed, but have the sneaking suspicion that one of those stalls is empty, but only one, the one that is housing me. You attempt to open, it appears to be locked, but you’re not the type of man to give up that easy, so you try again. Still locked. You then have the genius idea that if you push harder it will break the door free, still locked. You then hear cries coming from within telling you to go away like some horrible poltergeist trying to keep you and nature apart, so you push harder thinking this will finally let you into the promised land, but all you find is the promised hate.

...You own and worse yet, wear jorts. Now that summer is over, we’re all in a better position to no longer have to witness the dreaded jean short. But the jort wearers are a rare breed, they jump at the chance to showcase their jorts, a 60 degree day is reason enough to break them out and it’s reason enough to hate you.

...You tell me about your elastic expanding dockers pants. Mister, this isn’t something you want to share with the general public, it’s not like we’re old friends, we have a business relationship, that’s it. Now you’ve crossed the line by telling me that you eat so much that your pants expand to meet your expanding waistline, sort of like MANternity pants. Because of this information, we’ve gone from a business relationship to hating relationship.

...You don’t know the proper ordering when making a sandwich. I pray to god that the tortoise of a sandwich maker in my cafeteria is reading this. Once and for all, the proper order is this, bread with mayo or mustard on BOTH sides, cheese if one desires, then meat, then lettuce then tomato cover with other piece of bread, then cut in half. I don’t know how this is so complicated, but I always seem to end with lettuce and tomato on the bottom or meat, the tomato, then lettuce, then cheese. If you know what I’m talking about then I don’t need to explain, if you don’t know what I’m talking about then you are guilty and you are hated.

All's well that hates well

2007-10-15T11:27:00.000-04:00

...You approach an elevator as it opens, the huge green sign of ▲indicates that the elevator is going up, for further confirmation of the direction, there are two individuals in that very same elevator that are carrying wet umbrellas from the rain outside, carrying their mail because they have clearly just come home are now going UP to their apartments, but then you still are not confident, so you ask if it’s going up. Nope, I’m a new service provided by the apartment building, I’m here to appear as though I just arrived home so you don’t feel lonely in the elevator and the other guy is just my associate, we’re training him. You see this is where those 60% rent increases went to and you are where my hate goes to.

...You have an outgoing voicemail message that leaves your name, your title, your department, the company and what appears to be a summary from a Dale Carnegie book. You seem to have left off a few other things, your boss’ name, your first born’s name, your childhood pet’s name, your year of graduation, not college, but high school. You see the trend here? If I’m calling you, I know who you are, everyone calling you, knows who you are and no one cares that you’re a “Managing Director” but everyone cares that I hate you.

...You are Time Warner Cable company. On your monthly bill you have the customer service number listed once, in fine print on the back of the bill in a faint grey color that can barely be seen. So this is the deterrent? Don’t worry because the cable won’t work at least once a week, so I’ll have that number on speed dial. The number that I call and hear an elaborate automated voice system that allegedly recognizes voice but never understands what I say. I then enter my account number so that once I finally get to a person, I will have the account number handy to tell the operator again, and so that when I’m transferred 7 times, I will have the account number handy each and every time so I can hate you.

...You work for the Time Warner Cable company. You come to my apartment during the hours of 8 AM and 11PM only to install half of what I want and ensure that it doesn’t work properly. Cable guy comes to the apartment, installs the high definition cable, the reception is not in high definition, but you refuse to help. You install cable in the living room, then when you are complete I ask you if you need help moving furniture to install cable in the bedroom, you refuse to run a wire to the bedroom, why? Because it’s not in the work order. You’re here, you have 100 ft of wire, you have a drill and staple gun, I’m offering an extra 40 bucks to do it, so get to it and I’ll get to hating you.

...You serve mushrooms that somehow look like a dead bat. I’m not sure how this came to be, or how it’s even possible, but this mushroom is scaring me. Picture diving into your lunch only to find a deformed winged mushroom that’s about 6 inches wide. I just assumed this was some formerly live animal of sorts so I had to try it only to find out it was a fungus and it was a hate.

...You ask me to stop by your office when I have chance. How about a topic? Because I know damn well the second I walk into your hell hole, you’re going to want to talk about something that’s in my office, then I have to come back to my office to get it. You see the situation here? If you just tell me from the get go what you need then from the get go, I can hate you.

Put me in coach, I'm ready to hate

2007-10-11T16:23:00.000-04:00

...You are Budget rental. You give me a tractor trailer when all I wanted to rent was a 10 foot truck. I’m moving a couch, a table and a dresser, but now I have to hull some freight with this thing. I don’t care that I get it for the same price as 10 foot truck, I rented a 10 foot truck because that’s all I needed and that’s all I wanted, but you now have given me the pleasantry of driving a big rig around the city all day and the pleasantry of hating you.

...You are Budget rental. You ask me for my receipt from getting gas to prove that I filled the tank. I must be Sir Isaac Newton because I am the only person that can understand when a tank reads “FULL” it means that it is filled with gas, what other proof do you need? This is the scam you are running, you need a receipt to prove gas was purchased otherwise you will charge $25. Who the fuck keeps a gas receipt? The person that gets the hate.

...You are delivering my new TV and take it out to set it up only to find that you don’t have the screws for the stand, you then return to the store and come back with the screws, except you brought the wrong screws, yet again, so now you have to go back to the store for a third time. My main question is why would the screws have ever gotten separated from the TV? Ok I can buy your reasoning that you tested the TV in the store….kind of, but how do you bring the wrong screw twice? How do you get hated twice?

...You are delivering my new TV and as you are leaving you tell me to keep the box for a few days, just in case. Just in case of what? First you’re shady by this whole screw issue for the stand, then you tell me to keep the box “just in case”. Dude you’re starting to piss me off. I buy a brand new TV for pretty penny and you’re telling me keep the box just in case? How about I throw away the box and tell you to keep the hate.

...You don't like my previous four hates, well listen, keeping the hate bottled up about an annoying move is frustrating, so I had to vent and you had to read, so now sit back, and enjoy yoruself some freshly minted hate of you.

...You call and leave a voicemail saying, I have a question for you, can you please call me back. FUCK. Ask me your question in the voicemail people so I can be prepared to answer it. This is the equivalent of calling a meeting to have another meeting to ask you a question. It’s like the whole world has time to waste except for me. It may be just me, but I thought everyone seeks the point of rest, so therefore you get what you have to get done the quickest so then you can rest and then I can hate you.

...You call a meeting to simply pass out a spreadsheet that you already emailed to everyone at the meeting, then ask us to answer your questions AFTER the meeting. What is it with people, there is nothing that can’t be accomplished over email, please stop wasting my time so I can get back to my computer, back to blog and back to hating you.

...You color code spreadsheets. Either you are a brilliant genius and feel you need to explain things in the absolute simplest form for anyone to understand or you borderline Forrest and are so incompetent and slow that you have color code or the world is just such a complicated place. So you wasted 7 hours color coding a spreadsheet that didn’t even need to be created, the spreadsheet also having taken 7 hours is now a 14 hour project only to get to the point where you can start a series of meetings about more meetings to fine tune my hate for you.

...You use a wheelchair that beeps when it’s in reverse. You might be so fat that you now need a wheelchair to get around, but you’re not a mac truck, we see you. The point of the beep on a large truck is because it is in fact a large TRUCK, not person, the driver of said truck has several blind spots and to hit someone, is to kill someone. You are in a chair that moves, you can simply, turn your head and presto you see any obstructions and then you see hate.

...You say your destination floor as you press the button in an elevator. I know, I know, this complex, so difficult that saying the number aloud to yourself helps you remember and it helps you actually press the button. Us regular folk in the intellectual world, don’t need narration of our actions, we either have something called an inner monologue, common sense or (my personal favorite) hate for you.

Hatred is a virtue

2007-10-05T16:42:00.000-04:00

...You are sending me Hate O Grams waiting for the next installment. Listen people, I have lots o shit going on right now, have some patience. All I ask is that you give me a few more days and then I will give you a few more hates.

Hate's the boss

2007-09-27T14:02:00.000-04:00

...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.

You take my hate away

2007-09-26T11:17:00.000-04:00

...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.

Everybody wants to hate the world

2007-09-19T09:12:00.000-04:00

...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.

Now that's what I call hate Volume 243

2007-09-17T16:48:00.000-04:00

...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.

When you wish upon a hate

2007-09-14T13:10:00.000-04:00

...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.

Dude looks like a hate

2007-09-12T09:23:00.000-04:00

...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.

A hate in the hand is worth two in the bush

2007-09-10T09:53:00.000-04:00

...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.

The hate that Ruth built

2007-09-06T09:39:00.001-04:00

...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.

Are you gonna hate my way

2007-09-04T13:22:00.000-04:00

...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.

Crazy little thing called hate

2007-08-30T14:40:00.000-04:00

...You say that if it rains on your wedding its good luck. Let’s put this in the things you say to people when something really shitty happens. Everyone knows that it’s bullshit, it’s raining on your wedding day, that fucking sucks, the day pretty much ruined and that’s about 100 grand down the drain. I’d like to commission a study as to if marriages are more successful if it rains on the wedding day. Why would I want to do such thing? What type of value would this provide? Well for starters this will allow me to hate you.

...You have bumper stickers displaying that your child made the honor roll. Hey complete strangers, look at how allegedly smart my child is compared to yours. I mean it doesn’t matter that straight A’s in art makes the honor roll and straight B’s in calculus and physics does not, but either way, you’re 45 and bragging about how well a 13 year old did in school, yeah for you and yeah for hate.

...You ask me to wish you luck. That kind of takes the whole luck out of it doesn’t it? Obviously this is not a task that I deem worthy of needing luck and you cannot possibly be that self conscious or insecure that you need luck just to get through your daily routine. If that’s the case, then I must be a fucking genie getting through my daily routine of hating you.

...You walk into a fairly empty movie theater and choose the seat directly in front of me. Its as though you go out of your way to be annoying, the odds of you randomly choosing the seat right in front of me are so slim, you had to do it purpose. You must have said to yourself, hmm, that guy picked a great seat, I like the way he thinks, now all I have to do is choose the one directly in front of him and I’ll get a better viewing of the movie. Well indeed you did get a better viewing, but I got a better hating.

...You are yet again another anti-gay republican that turns out to be a gay man. At what point do we just assume that if you say you are anti-gay and you’re republican, well then you are in reality, gay. Hey I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being gay, I’m saying there’s everything wrong with hating gay people and gay rights when you are gay and I’m saying there’s everything right with hating you.

...You do not see the urgent need to have bathroom stalls that go to the floor. If we had bathroom stall walls that went all the way to the floor, we wouldn’t have a problem with some people that have a “wide stance” when shitting or men tapping a foot to signal their need for a penis in their mouth. While we’re at it, how about adding a partition between the urinals, this might help put an end or dramatically reduce getting George Michaeled in the men’s room and reduce my hate of you.

…You invented the pile driver. Picture it, two 300 pound men standing next to each other, one man picks up the other man, turns him upside down thereby allowing each man’s face to be in the other’s crotch/anal region. This really is quite the “sport” gentlemen. Its okay if you like each other, be free, but what you don’t need to do is pretend as though you are not by putting on a show for everyone so that we can hate you.

Cum on feel the hate

2007-08-28T13:58:00.000-04:00

...You are in line at Starbucks with your best girlfriend and you are chatting it up each speaking for 20 minutes straight without pause, so that when it is your turn to order, you do not hear the barrista, you ignore to the point that the barrista is getting angered, you actually have angered the most cheerful people on the planet other than the hypnotized Disney workers, yet you still ignore. You ignore them to the point that I am so angry because you are disrupting the flow of the all these other patrons waiting properly in line just to hate you.

...You see that I’ve managed to leave wet wipe wrappers sprinkled throughout the men’s room to give you a hint of their existence. I’m not going to come right out and say it, but I am going to leave them lying around, I’ll talk about them at lunch, I’ll send emails to the department mentioning that they’re on sale and include a list of locations that might sell said wet wipes. Personal hygiene is an important issue for me, your ass not smelling is important to me and hating you is important to me.

...You are attending the weekly birthday celebration in the office and when the cake is cut, you say, oh I’ll only have a sliver. There are so many issues going on here, I don’t know where to begin. First, the birthday celebrations have gotten a little excessive, but okay, I can deal. Second, you don’t need any cake, a sliver or a wedge, so please do us all that favor and not eat a thing. Finally, you make that poor person cutting the cake fulfill some special request of cutting you a tiny piece of cake, then after you inhale it in 2.2 seconds, you ask for another sliver, 2.2 seconds later, you’re on to a third, then fourth sliver, before you know it, you’re licking other people’s forks asking for your seventh sliver and then I have to give you a hate.

...You are salary.com and run an online survey studying the amount of time people waste at work. So your survey results said that 6 of 10 workers admit to wasting time on the internet and feel they are underpaid. Hmmmm. We are brainiacs aren’t we? The only people responding to an online survey about wasting time are people that are actually online wasting time, think about it. The only margin for error is the small percentage of people online hating you.

...You have a bumper sticker that says, I’d rather be…insert stupid comment. So you’d rather be at the beach than sitting in traffic? Really? That surprises me because I thought that people enjoy wasting hours on end in pointless traffic or perhaps I have you confused with the I’d rather be hunting people, or the I’d rather be golfing people, because surely those are less entertaining than traffic, but not as entertaining as hating you.

Don't stop til you hate enough

2007-08-27T10:07:00.000-04:00

...You are this wonderful little man. I don't know how I can go on hating when I can just go down to the Union Sq. subway station and view some mini MJ.

Friday I'm in hate

2007-08-24T10:25:00.000-04:00

...You give a farewell tour then proceed to tour for the next 15 years, every single year. I love this, farewell tour this summer, cancel all your plans, pay top dollar because you may never see us again. I recall my first experience with such chicanery, the year was 1993 and the band was the Cure. They were embarking on their first of many many final tours. Fast forward 15 years and I’ve seen the Cure at least 4 times since then and now they’re recording a new album, well lookie here, I’m recording a new hate.

...You are The Cure. Please dude give the brooding depressed guy routine a break, what are you 50? The only more pathetic person is Madonna still parading herself in underwear at 50. Madonna has actually now become the old lady Molly Shannon played on SNL proclaiming how great she looks at 50. But at least she’s not pretending to be emo. What is this guy so depressed about anyway? He sounds like a 50 year high school kid sitting in his bedroom drawing pictures of dead people and reading about hated people.

...You have personalized license plate. Are you really that desperate for attention? You’re what, 60 and you’re plate says, QTPI, I hate to tell you, but I don’t think so. How about the dude with the red sports car with a plate reading, howudoin, the quintessential douchebag plate. I have a new quintessential plate and it reads ih8u.

...You write on the label of a package of peanuts that this food product has been processed on a machine that processes peanuts. Really? I better not eat the fucking bag of peanuts then should I. Is there really this much confusion in the world that people buying a bag of peanuts need to be reminded that the product contains peanuts so if you’re allergic stay away? Was there really a person that bought peanuts, that questioned if the product contained peanuts? Is there really a need or reason for me to hate you?

...You tell my colleague that you hope I choke on my lunch and die. Really? First of all, I’m surprised he could understand you because you speak with marbles in your mouth. Second of all, I simply am trying to get a stupid invoice paid, I sent it to you 2 months ago, you said I needed additional approval, being a corporation, that process took 2 months, now I send it back to you for payment and you say it’s missing something else. All I wanted to know is why you didn’t tell me that 2 months ago when I first tried to get this stupid invoice paid. I have a pretty good reason why, because you are so fucking lazy all you wanted to do was get it off your desk, then, I called you out, so now your pissed and want me to die and now you’re hated.

...You are speaking at a conference and talk about how rich you are. Hey look at me you 20 something year olds, I’m 60 and I’m rich. Is this the way you choose to make yourself feel better and how you overcompensate for your shortcomings? I can understand that at my age, you broke, you were living in a one room apartment with cockroaches and look at you now. Yippie, hooray for you. I’m so proud that over a period of 40 years you managed to finally get a job, so shut up and ask your wife to give you some attention, because all I’m giving you is hate.

Merchant of Hate

2007-08-22T13:38:00.000-04:00

...You see a friend of yours near the front of a Starbucks line that’s 20 people deep and walk up to cut in line. Not to sound like I’m 8 years old, but perhaps you didn’t notice that we’re all in line here, knowing someone at the front doesn’t entitle you to get your coffee before me. I know the barrista, so by your logic, I never have to wait in line, but no, I wouldn’t do that, because I’m trying to live in a society of civility, a world with rules and a world with hate.

...You are at the gym on a machine next to me and while you are huffing and puffing you turn to face me breathing your nasty stank breathe on me. Have you heard of brushing your teeth? Mouthwash? Or even a freaking mint? I don’t need to be working out and then suddenly start to feel a man breeze on my face followed by the stench of garbage that is your breathe. When working out, you look straight ahead, never breathe to your sides and always hate.

...You see me eating a muffin or bagel and make a comment about my eating of carbs. Yes how observant of you, I AM eating carbs, they taste good, plus, perhaps you have not noticed, but I am thin, you are not. Do the math. Somehow your whole no carb diet isn’t exactly working out for you now is it? While we’re on this subject, let’s try to refrain from sticking your big nose into my business. I’m eating, leave me the fuck alone, keep your mouth shut and let me just hate you.

...You ask me my favorite baseball team I tell you, then you proceed to talk shit to me every time I see you. You know guy, I don’t really like baseball THAT much and even if I did, I’m not a shit talker, you say whatever you want because it’s pretty pointless to act as though you are actually on the team and that I actually play or even care. You have had absolutely nothing to do with “your” team’s win, except contributing to the owner’s profits by going to one game. You do not play, therefore you do not talk shit and therefore I hate.

...You are the guest that wouldn’t leave. It’s a party, you come by for a few hours, you hang out have a few drinks, then it starts to wind down a bit, the party thins out. You are having a good time so you don’t want to take off just yet. The party continues to wind down, the music is now off, the host is rummaging through the kitchen for some leftover food and 2 drunk people are passed out on the couch, but you persevere. You won’t give up, you want to be the last man standing. It’s now 4 in the morning, the host has gone to bed, the lights are out, the only light to be seen is from the TV so you pick up a magazine, grab some chips and pull up a chair because you’re just getting warmed up and have long been getting hated.

...You are away for the night, but fail to turn off your alarm clock. Now I have to suffer all the next morning while you’re away and the alarm’s a ringing. You see, when you wake up in the morning to an alarm, you have three options, snooze, reset and the illusive OFF. Knowing that you will not be present in the future, one would expect an off setting, but on the contrary, yours is reset leaving a little piece of you for everyone to enjoy the following Saturday morning. The only problem is the everyone is just me and the hate is just you.

I'm working my way back to you hate

2007-08-20T09:35:00.000-04:00

...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.

Everybody's hatin for the weekend

2007-08-16T13:14:00.000-04:00

...You have a sticker in your back window displaying the college you or a child attend. As your child flunks out of schools the stickers add up, so now you have a window cluttered with stickers of shitty schools that no one has ever heard of, and that no one in their right mind would want to brag about. You’re kid goes to an Ivy league school, ok I can see that. The school won the NCAA, please by all means. But you two community colleges and something that starts with Staten Island and ends in hate.

...You contact me to provide you with consulting advice, I promptly prepare some information for you within 4 or 5 hours, I respond to you that same day trying to discuss this with you, you then disappear for a month. You then call one random morning asking me to meet with you in an hour. Oh look who it is, someone now needs my help and here they are calling me at the last hour, suuuuurrrre I’ll drop everything else I’m doing because you called about something I tried to help you with over a month ago. You know what, I have absolutely nothing else to do in this world than sit around waiting for you. During this whole month, I did nothing, I just waited around on standby hating you.

...You don’t view word documents in “print layout” form. I don’t know why, but I just hate you.

...You are Bloomingdales. You send my monthly statements/bills to an old address, then when I get them after the due date, promptly pay the bill and explain the situation you charge me a late fee, without telling me, then you charge me a late fee on the late fee, without telling me, then you charge me interest and another late fee on the previous late fees. When I finally negotiate a $20 payment to settle everything, I go to submit my payment online after which I write an email stating that upon receipt of my payment I would like my account closed, explaining why. Two hours later, I receive email confirmation that my online bill paying account has been cancelled effectively immediately. WHAT THE FUCK! And what the hate.

...You prescribe a drug to me that says “may cause death”. That kind of defeats the whole purpose of taking medication right? Or are there people trying to get well out there that say to themselves, you know what, I’d rather just stick to death over fixing my knee. I thought medical advancement had been a little further along than this, you’re choices are live with the pain or die…hmmm, can we add a third option? How about hate?

...You say you like someone’s outfit and then ask who makes it, when you find out it’s not some designer label so you respond by saying, oh, well I guess it’s okay then. So first you think it’s great, then suddenly because it doesn’t contain a certain name you think it’s shit? Perhaps I can interest you in something in a dark plastic look, kind of a poncho look this year, here you see there is a big opening at the bottom, and holes for your head and arms, yeah kind of like a garbage bag rain poncho, except this year instead of Hefty, it was designed by Marc Jacobs, so it’s now $900, it’s all the rage and it’s all the hate.

...You walk need to use the restroom during that long time span of an hour and a half of a movie and when getting up you place both hands on the seat in front of you and push down as you begin to rise from your seat. I hope you’re wearing coke bottle glasses and are just to blind to see that someone is actually sitting in this seat trying to enjoy a stupid movie. Since you are not old and senile, I’m going to follow you home and while you are tying to sleep, I’m going to come in and jump on your bed, then I’m going to follow you to work and while you are trying to concentrate, I’m going to spin your chair around and then I’m going to hate you.

Clap your hands and say hate

2007-08-15T14:06:00.000-04:00

...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.

Hate without a face

2007-08-08T11:01:00.000-04:00

...You are outright picking your nose, knuckle deep, during a meeting. Hey we all enjoy a good pick from time to time, nothing quite gets the job done. Would you pull a rock from the ground using blower or would you use a pick axe? Exactly, I get it. But what I also get is that there’s a time and place for everything, humans seem to recognize this, so you must not be human. Well you are in IT so I guess you are not human, but I can guess that you are hated.

...You see me for the first time that day, you say hello, then as you walk by my office 83 times that day, you say hi each and every time. You know, I get it, I understand you want to say hi, very nice of you, but once is sufficient. I don’t really like you all that much to have you say hi and while we’re at it, please stop staring at me while you pass my doorway, look straight ahead, do not pass go and collect some hate.

...You are attending some sort of live performance, a broadway show for example, and at the end you begin to applaud the performers. After about 15 seconds of applause it turns into clapping in unison, as though you are clapping along to music, all in the same rhythm. It doesn’t seem to matter the occasion or the type of music, no matter what when you are clapping, it turns into the same rhythm, the same clap and the same hate.

...You are the summer intern that either has no idea what she’s doing or is completely ADD. How many times can a person walk by my office in 1 day? I’ll tell you how many, 937 times, that’s in a day folks, I counted. One day, one day, I’d like to be able to sit in my office and pick my nose without some overzealous college kid walking by in rush to file paper, a rush to shred and a rush to hate.

...You are a movie concession stand employee and insist that you have given me a soda when you clearly have not. You can ask me once to clarify, once. Any more than that and you are asking for a shit fit from me. Unlike a nice respectful concession stand employee, you berate me with a series of inquisitions as to what happened to this illusive soda with 3 subsequent questions in reference to the location of said soda. Listen bearded lady, you did not give me a soda as you can plainly see there is no soda in sight, you only gave me hate.

...You are giving a presentation and have every single word you say on the actual slides. You might as well have just placed a recorded message in the room because you are about as useful as a Commodore 64. Everyone at the meeting can read, so just send me your “presentation” and I’ll read it because this is a book and in no way resembles something to be presented aside from the presentation of hate.

Black Hateday

2007-08-03T14:48:00.000-04:00

...You are responsible for a particular stock I own, that had a particularly awful week. Let's keep in mind this is only one week, one week after already having it's worst week, the week before.

I'm ruined and you're hated.

The hating is on the wall

2007-08-03T11:42:00.000-04:00

...You used to read and comment on this blog, but now seem to have disappeared like a fart in the wind. Just because there have been some creative constraints and bouts of hater's block, doesn't mean you abandon hate. For a while there, the culture of hate was being nurtured, now, you're all gone, on to bigger and better hate, but please people, spread the gospel of hate, bring the haters back. While this sounds desparate I'm sure, I just want to see more hate in people's lives and more hate in you.

Ain't Too Proud Too Hate

2007-08-02T17:50:00.000-04:00

...You are using your water bottle bidet in the men’s room and can’t manage to keep it clean. I go to use a stall, open the door and see the ravages of the previous user. 4 balls of crumpled up paper, 7 toilet seat sheets, two different newspapers strewn across the floor soaked in the spillage from the water bottle bidet. And let’s not forget the clogged toilet. The bottle lays in a pool of water atop the newspaper that has now become a sort of wallpaper for the floor. I have a hard time accepting that I work in an office full of professional adults, is this how adults behave themselves in public or at work or when hated?

...You come back from a European vacation, semester abroad or from working abroad or simply have some European friends and now feel like you are obligated, if not encouraged, to give people the double kiss when saying hello. You are American, face it, we don’t kiss on both cheeks when we say hello or goodbye, a simple handshake will do, if that, a simple nod of recognition can typically suffice. But no, you my pretentious friends must attempt to make up for some other short coming, some other insecurity as though you are saying: you stupid Americans, you are beneath me, you are so uncultured, but look at me, I’ve been to Europe, I’m cultured, I’m well traveled, and I’m hated.

...You are American and say Ciao to people instead of simply saying goodbye, or see ya, or later or piece out. Reasons for such ostentation are the same reasons why I used the ostentatious. It’s a way to differentiate yourself from the common, to make yourself feel better because you pretend to know more than someone else, you pretend to be better than people, but you can’t pretend to hated, because you are.

...You are in a meeting in my office, the meeting is going on for a long time, perhaps an hour during which you have managed to down three bottles of water and instead of getting up to use the restroom, you decide to relieve yourself right then and there. You know, it’s not like we’re in the middle of surgery and some person’s life depends on your presence in the room, no, reviewing this month’s P&L can certainly wait, but hating you cannot.

...You are standing at the sink in the men’s room with your pants at your ankles, washing your hands at 9 in the morning. You know this is not a locker room, please have some humility. You are surely the absolute worst patron of any bathroom, public, private, exclusive or rustic, you clearly take the prize. For those interested in further reading, please check your local book store for soon to be released, Memoirs of a Bathroom Attendant but for now all you anxious readers will have to settle for my hate.

...You are the very same unruly bathroom patron that enters an elevator, the very same one I am trying to exit, before me. Forget the fact that I have the right of way here, but the look on this man is appalling. You are completely disheveled as though the exhaustive work of sitting in a cubicle all day has withered you away to a fraction of the man you once were. You’re Palmolive lathered hair sticks straight up into the air exposing your well receded hairline, your shirt half tucked, half untucked, but still clearly exposing the fact that your pants are pulled up to your man breasts, yet fails to hide your hips which are more shapely than Carnie Wilson. You’re sleeves are rolled up to your elbows but in a way that is unkempt, your shirt is unbuttoned three buttons exposing your hair sweater and extra small wife beater. There is a film of sweat coating your face and more around your mouth which is either water from a drink or slow falling drool created from the daze that is your life or from the hate that I have for you.

I'm starting with the hate in the mirror

2007-07-30T10:54:00.000-04:00

...You are the IT guy with steakhead size muscles and tiny little ballerina legs. I think you’ve lifted a bit more than one too many computers in your day. How can I tell? Well how about the shirt that’s 2 sizes too small or maybe your happy hour spandex white T that you change into before leaving the office every Friday? It’s like you’re trying to be superman, except instead of the S for Super, you wear and H for Hated.

...You tell me how great Miami is everytime I see you. As if it wasn’t bad enough for the senses to see you in the super white spandex T, I have to also hear you? Just because I have an Italian last name, it doesn’t mean I want to hit up the clubby clubs in South Beach. Not everyone likes that and something tells me, not everyone likes you. As a social experiment, I’d love to learn how this goes down, at what point to you tell women that you’re the IT guy? Oh right, there are no women, there’s only hate.

...You are an exact clone of Napolean Dynomite’s brother and are eating in my work cafeteria. I realize the need to employee the nerdery, but this is just out of control. I don’t care that you’re some kind of number genius freak, there is no excuse for such dress, but this goes beyond the simple look, I mean the acne is down to a T, the voice, identical, the little 13 year old moustache, unreal, and most importantly let us not forget the most uncanny resemblance of my hate.

...You insist on the playing the “guess the Asian” game whenever you encounter an Asian woman. You see, if you are Asian (if not just observe), go to your local dry cleaner, corner market, Chinese takeout, or Chinatown (and for the record yes, that’s racist, I get that, but play along) and let the games begin. It starts with a curious stare and then a double take, then it eases into outright uncomfortable. You might smile or otherwise make the store owner aware of the staring. The store owner will shy away, then talk to some coworkers in his or her native tongue all the while keeping an on you to see if you understand, you give them no satisfaction, they figure you for full on American. Then you conduct your business amidst the uncomfortableness, and you stump them by saying thank you in their native language. The reaction is one of shock, the employees that have all since gathered round the register to have a closer look for themselves are now giving each other nods of agreement that they were right, you must be Chinese, the store owner asks, are you Chinese? No, Korean? No, Vietnamese? No Philipino? No, what are you then, you tell them you are actually .00001% Chinese they all smile and laugh in affirmation that they did in reality guess correctly, then you explain the rest of your ethnicity is hater of you.

...You are my cleaning lady. I know you stole my gym membership ID, it had to be you. I do not lose things, they are only stolen because I know exactly where everything goes at all times, I have a constant running tally in my brain. I can see it now, the cleaning lady at the gym, on the treadmill wearing a costume to pose as me. I know, it’s a crazy thought to think a little old eastern European immigrant would be up to such shenanigans but it’s true. I can just see her now at my gym, wearing my gym clothes (btw I’m missing a pair of shorts…), wearing a white headband, my old sneakers that she found in the trash, a wig and a lot of hate.

...You see me carrying large bags and boxes unable to actually swipe my work ID to get in and instead of hold the door for me, you make a point of closing it behind yourself. You know I work here, you see me almost everyday. I hate to tell you that there is no secret about the business being conducted here, there’s no reason to not let me in. This is really akin to the full cavity search of 80 year olds at the airport, that’s no exaggeration. It’s also akin to me hating you.

Crouching Tiger Hidden Hate

2007-07-25T18:03:00.000-04:00

...You have what appears to be taps in your shoes and just tap tap tap your way around the office. Damn what is that infernal racket? It is driving me insane. A tap to the left, a tap to the right, up the hallway, down the hallway, please remove those shoes immediately. I go home at night and try to fall asleep and what do I hear? Tap tap tap tap tap tap, then I wake up and I hate hate hate hate hate.

...You ask me to send you something again in email after I have already sent it to you. I don’t care if it was 3 years ago, why don’t you have it still? Why are you deleting emails? Oh I know why, because you think that actually deletes them, cute kid. Oh you also print out every single email and keep it in an archive of the binder variety? Great use of resources, great use of your time, great use of paper and a great use for hate.

...You send me an email saying “you’re welcome”. Well for that, I take back my sincere thank you and will replace that with my sarcastic thank you. Thank you for replying to my email with absolutely no substance or purpose. Thank you for wasting 11.3 seconds of my life which included opening an email, determining the pointlessness and hating you.

...You say you live on the upper west side, then say your apartment is on 109th street. Upper West Side? That’s fucking Harlem and you know it. I don’t care how close it is to Columbia, it doesn’t make you bohemian, it may make you a little dangerous, but it most certainly makes you hated.

...You quit your job and then send a farewell to the entire company or department. Are you sure this wasn’t a forced resignation? If you can’t tell when it’s appropriate to send an email to the entire company or not, well maybe it IS time for you to move on. Not to mention I have to read how it fills you with great sadness and much regret to leave for a better opportunity. Are you really that sad about it? Maybe you should have thought twice about the interviewing process and the whole getting hated process.

...You have a boat, and every weekend you go out on that boat, you laugh and laugh and have a grand ‘ol time. You then return home Sunday night and tell your roommate what a wonderful time you had on that boat, how it was so sunny, the water was perfect, the beer flowed like wine…the weekend the same, the next weekend – the same, all the while never extending the invite to the poor roommate so I’m having to extend the hate.

...You are a coworker and feel the need to detail your personal sex life, or lack thereof, to me on a regular basis. This goes beyond TMI (to much information) this extends to out right repulsive. I vomit at the notion of you involved in any sort of sexual relations, the mere thought of it makes me want to run and join a monastery for a life of celibacy so I never have to envision the thought of you having sex and me hating.

Bend it like Hate

2007-07-20T16:00:00.000-04:00

...You are going for a bike ride and decide you need to dress yourself in full on tour de France attire. I know how important it is to shave off 3 seconds from your time riding alongside the Hudson. This is intense competition, I know. I mean I’m riding in flip flops and moving faster than you, so thank god you are in spandex and a faux yellow jersey. The ram horn handle bars and the aerodynamic alien helmet are nice touch as well, now you really look like a professional. With all that the gear, the only thing I’ve can tell is that you make too much money and you make too much hate.

...You are out for a run and are wearing paper thin short shorts that reveal your balls with every stride. I didn’t know Carl Lewis came out of retirement, I mean that has to be the only reason you are wearing those clothes. Face it, you are an amateur, I am passing by you and that doesn’t say much. I can only hope those are relics from actual competitions, but even so, you have no business wearing them on an afternoon jog. This is not a road race, it’s not even a road, it’s only a hate.

...You head out to the courts to shoot some hoop and come decked out in your latest Lebron sneakers, full on San Antonio Spurs uniform, head band, wrist bands and even the nylon stockings a la Allen Iverson. You then go to take a lay up and miss, everyone figures this is a fluke, but then you proceed to hog the ball for 3 hours straight not making one shot and only making hate.

...You are playing a pick up roller hockey game and flip out when someone isn’t showing enough effort. You should be lucky enough to have found 9 other fat middle age men that think they’re 20 to play with you. Isn’t hockey supposed to be a tough workout? Give the beast a chance, he’s 50 lbs overweight, he needs a breather for a smoke and a big mac, then he get right back to hitting a ball into a garbage can and I can get right back to hating you.

...You are playing on your company’s softball team and don’t seem to quite understand the term recreational. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the minor leagues are not calling, you’ll never get a shot at the show, sorry to tell you. If the hot chick from the office is playing in the outfield, she can miss every single ball as long as its not yours. No one is looking for Derek Jeter out there to give the two out sign to the field, we get it, actually we don’t care, just pass another Bud heavy and I’ll pass you some hate.

...You are in the park showing off your "mad" soccer skills. Wow, look at that, that euro trash guy is showing off with some sort of fancy looking basketball. You get it? No one gives a shit that you can bounce a ball with your foot; most people don’t even know how to spell soccer. The only thing you’re doing is annoying anyone in any sort of distance within your reach, because we all have to keep an eye on you, not because of your skills, but to make sure we don’t get hit with the ball and to ensure we can hate proper.

Five Alarm Hate

2007-07-19T17:52:00.000-04:00

...You assume that if anything happens in NY it must be the terrorists. So we all know that nothing has been done to stop the terrorists, but accidents are going to happen, 100 year old pipes will sometimes burst, sometimes the gas is left on, once in a while propeller planes crash and everyday I hate.

...You see a freak accident in the street and the first thing you do is reach for your cell phone. Oh you better get that on camera, get your 12 second clip that shows nothing but a blur, then post it on youtube. Thank god every single person has this technology, I don’t know how we would get by without useless blogs of nothingness, less than amateur quality video and an endless supply of hate.

...You see steam, smoke and fire bursting from the ground and relentlessly try to get a closer look. I think more people were injured by other people trying to get a closer look at the injured people. Why don’t we all have ourselves a nice look at the disaster, try to find people we know and then we can all be properly hated.

...You are reporting on some sort of tragedy and in your little info area on the TV screen you write “no deaths reported yet”. YET? It’s like a game, what kind of death toll are we getting on this one. How many can you count? I see one…two…thr- no that person is still alive, come on, where’s three, where’s three? Where’s you and where’s hate?

...You call people to ask if they are okay after a very localized tragedy that you know has not affected the person you know. Yes we all want to feel like we are close to the action, but seriously, this is just annoying. Hey, I just heard there is a forest fire in California, everything okay over there in New York? What? While I am clearly exaggerating my point, you know I don’t live anywhere near it, I don’t work anywhere near it, so please let me get on with my hating of you.

Ooooo Baby I hate your way, everyday

2007-07-16T14:28:00.000-04:00

...You call me to come into your office, I come in and sit down, the moment I sit down, you pick up the phone to call someone. You know, I get it, you’re important, you make a lot more money than me, that’s okay, because you’re 60. Ha ha let’s make the young guy be my little bitch. Oh hey, I see how this works you need something, I go to you, then its nevermind go back to your desk, then you call me again to come to your office only to make me sit there for an hour while you send emails and while I hate you.

...You are the advertising department for Lipitor. I understand Richard Jarvic is a genius and all, but he really belongs on dateline. Does this guy even know how to blink? The stoic stare into the camera is one of molesters, not scientists. Not to mention they only show his commercials during dateline, it’s NBC’s little joke. This is a creepy creepy man, I’m not taking health advice from him, so put him back behind the microscope and let the normal non molesters get hated.

...You send me an email full of garbage and end it with “I hope this clears up all your questions”. If by clear up you mean not even sure this is a written language let alone English, then yes it is perfectly clear. I can appreciate that you think in retard, but when it comes time to communicate your thoughts, you must, you absolutely must translate into something that anyone with an IQ over 70 can understand so that anyone with an IQ over 70 doesn’t have to hate you.

...You compliment my girlfriend on her dress and how great she looks, then turn to me and say, wow, good for you, nice job. Ok so you are telling me that I’m some sort of horrible monster and that she’s way to hot for me. While she is much hotter than I, give a man some credit here, I’m not quasimoto, I’m a fairly attractive individual and I have do have a decent track record of hating you.

...You are a guest speaker at a conference and when discussing your background, you just happen to mention that your kids go to prep school. But not just any prep school, a very very expensive prep school, but you don’t stop there, you also manage to bring up that you have 3 BMWs, your last vacation was to the Maldives, you have a Spanish speaking gardener and a very small penis. What the fuck are you insecure about that you have to brag about your alleged fortunes to a bunch of twentysomething kids that will never see you again in their lives? We get it, by the time you’ve reached 50 or 60, you’ve managed to make some cash, but you’ve also managed to make a lot of hate.

...You are bald on the top of your head, yet you still choose to have a mullet in the back. Some might call this a skullet. I know it must be hard to let the dream die, the dream of having a full head of hair. It’s tough to watch your youth literally go down the drain, but face the facts mandingo, you are bald, just shave it off for if you don’t you will be destined to a life of pool hall cougars with a deeper voice than you and a deeper hate for you.

How to succeed in hate without really trying

2007-07-12T16:07:00.000-04:00

...You call me from the waiting room at a doctor’s office while I’m reading a magazine to wait in the doctor’s office for another 20 minutes. Lady, you’ve become my arch nemesis, I’m trying to read up on whether or not Tomkat is having another kid, this is important business here. The stuff that matters in life is looking at pictures of semi famous women’s stomachs to see if there is any kind of bulge, then I can go write articles and have television shows where we all try to determine if she’s pregnant, fat or just simply hated.

...You tell someone, hey you look different. So what, I either got fat, shaved my head or had some kind of terrible accident that mangled my face, thanks for pointing that out. I know I look different, I don’t need to be reminded in some snide tone from someone that naturally looks as though she had some terrible accident that mangled her face and turned into my hate.

...You are a bum that lies beneath a pile of garbage bags, that uses the same plastic as a bed sheet and then leaves his hand sticking out from under the pile. So I’m not sure if someone was murdered and thrown in the trash, someone’s hand was sliced off or what’s going on. All I know is that really freaks me out every time I walk by you and every time your hand is in the trash and in my hate.

...You are a bum that whistles at the pretty girls. Whistling at the girls in general is pretty pointless, but when you do it, it goes beyond creepy. The man with 2 different shoes, 1 tooth that smells like 3 week old sushi thinks he has a chance with this chick? I must be in bizarro New York because I just don’t see the logic here. I mean sure, you stare, you can gape, you make some sort of creepy growl that only a predator could, but whistling? That’s saying hey hot lady, look at me, then she looks, she sees the grotesqueness and then hates you.

...You make comments on the elevator such as, she was so hot, but so young, I should be arrested. Um, perhaps you didn’t notice, but I don’t know you. How do you know I’m not affiliated with Chris Hansen from Dateline? There’s a couple of things you don’t joke about, and this is certainly one of those things. There are laws in place because of people like you and hate in place because of people like you.

...You give a long laborious thank you to god on your acceptance speech for an award. Yes we get it, you’re religious, you pray and that is exactly why god gave you and only you the strength to win, as opposed to all the other people in the running that also prayed. What was it about you’re prayer that was so convincing? Perhaps someone is feeling sorry for you for being so hated.

Still hating after all these years

2007-07-10T12:22:00.000-04:00

...You refer to your blackberry, as your crackberry. You’re a regular Jerry Seinfeld aren’t you? Where do you find the time to sleep, I mean staying up all hours of the night to write such material. If you are going to be saying such clichéd overused garble, you’re better off not speaking at all. In fact, you must raise your hand to speak from now on and raise your hand to be hated.

...You are any one of the 7 people walking horizontally on the sidewalk, thereby encompassing the entire sidewalk, east to west. Holy shit, the coup de grace of hate, 7 people standing next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, barreling down the sidewalk, not moving for any of the oncoming traffic, periodically slowing to a crawl to thoroughly enrage the people behind. This, my haters, is it, this is my thesis, the source of all that is hated, you.

...You tell me you are going to miss my 30th birthday. Yeah don’t worry, you can come to my next 30th birthday party, no problem. So for the past two years while I’ve been going to everyone else’s parties, putting up their bullshit to create grassroots support for my own, when it comes time to pay the piper, you’re suddenly too important to make a little time for dear ol me, and dear ol hate.

...You ask me what it feels like to be 30. Well seeing as you’re 32, why don’t you tell me what it feels like to be 30, I really wouldn’t know seeing as this is day 1. apparently everyone else on the planet gets a visit from the aging ferry, because one year to the next doesn’t make me feel any different, it only makes me feel hate for you.

...You speak “urban” when around minority friends and speak proper around white people. I be talkin bout chu Alicia Keyes, I know you moms be white, you was excepted to Columbia. You’re an educated individual, please do us all the favor and act like it outside of your Today show appearances and outside of my hate.

...You have flowers or pink background set to your work email. Nothing screams professionalism with a flower arrangement as the background for all your emails. Not to mention when I hit reply, I’m now stuck with pink flowers for my background and for whatever reason, what’s with the automatic triple spacing between lines, who types like this? You must be legally blind because no one needs to have automatic font of 72 with triple spacing, but you definitely need some hate.

...You come into my office first thing in the morning after I’ve been out for a week and sit down to discuss work. Listen guy, I’ve been for a week, I’m supposed to come into the office, drink my coffee and read on the internet all morning, well actually that’s every morning, but still you see the picture here? I have zero desire to be in work right now, zero desire to look at you right now and zero desire to not hate you right now.

All for hate and hate for all

2007-06-28T15:09:00.000-04:00

...You give Paris Hilton an hour long interview because she was released from jail. It’s unbelievable that the most notorious slut in the country gets an hour with Larry King. This is a legitimate show that interviews heads of states, politicians, artists, leaders of industry and the like, now you’ve stooped to the level of tiger beat magazine whereby you are dedicating a show to an ugly spoiled brat made famous for having sex. Leave the gossip to E! I’ll leave the news to you, and everyone can leave their hate to me.

...You email me something, then come into my office with it printed out. Stop making more excuses for you to come into my office to annoy me. I do not want to talk to you, I do not want to BS with you and I do not want to hear about how you did such a great job in helping someone fill out a form. Your job is 30 times less important than you think it is, you are 1000 times more annoying than you think you are and you a million times more hated than you were before.

...You see me in the bathroom after 6 PM and say to me, “still here?” No I’m not here. This is a figment of your fucking imagination, I’m a hologram. I spent millions developing this hologram so that I can be seen in the bathroom after business hours while in reality I left at 530. Do you that stream of pee that is not going into the urinal but instead all over you? Just a hologram, it’s not really there. If you can’t think of anything useful or witty to say, please don’t speak, just stand there and get hated.

...You insist on chopping my salad. Listen lady, I don’t like my salad chopped, me likes me salad tossed. Nothing quite hits the spot like a nice tossed salad. We’re talking about an actual salad here people. Under normal circumstances, sure I can do chopped, but this is no ordinary chop chop done, this is chop as though it was put through a blender so now it looks like you puked into a plastic container, charged me ten bucks and then got hated.

...You are standing in a line so close behind that if a slight breeze went by, we’d be intimate. I can feel your breath on my neck, not to mention that I can hear your breath because instead of breathing, you’re snoring and instead of waiting, I’m hating.

...You are asking yourself, well how could they be intimate if he’s wearing pants? They’re called chaps people and they’re all the rage. Get yourself a pair, then get yourself some hate.

...You are a so called professional and ask me what is a C.V. Are fucking kidding me? Let me guess, you make more money than me too. How did you even get this job in the first place and what’s worse is I actually explained this to you because the word google is just as foreign to you. The ineptitude that exists in corporations is baffling, completely baffling and completely hated.

...You step up the urinal and flip your tie over your shoulder. This tells me one of two things, either you have a penis just below your belly button or your tie is too fucking long. Guess which is correct and if your thinking it’s fashion, think again. Actually, it is you like a clown when one side of your JC Penny tie is hanging to your knee and the other side is a two inch nub. I wish people would take some pride in their presentation so then I wouldn’t have to take so much pride in my hate.

If I can't hate you, I can't hate nobody, baby

2007-06-26T11:56:00.000-04:00

...You walk through a subway turnstile and immediately stop. In case you are unaware there is something in this city called other people, maybe you’ve seen them. Did you ever think that when you had to cram yourself into the train to the point that you’ve sexually assaulted people that perhaps someone else might be exiting the train? You have zero concept of social interaction and have zero concept of my hate for you.

...You wear a wedding ring to match your watch. If it’s gold watch day, it’s gold wedding ring day. If it’s silver watch day, it’s silver ring day. I’m curious as to what happens on leather band watch day or what if your watch is gold and silver? I mean think of the possibilities here, they’re really endless, almost as endless as my hate.

...You are holding a meeting to which several people have dial in access and then wonder why the only people laughing at your jokes are those in the room. Do I really need to break this down for you? If I do, then that should explain everything alone. You see, what you are not understanding is that you are the boss, you can see us because we are physically present in the same room, we have to laugh or at least pretend to. You can see the other people, the awkwardness of your lack of a sense humor does not travel through wires, it only travels to my hate.

...You say something is a win win. I don’t know how this blog has gone almost 2 years without ever hating the win win. For the lay person this means when two parties benefit from one another for the same job completed. For instance, you are inept, I cover for you lack of skill, we both get credit and “clients” are happy, you see, this is a win win but little do people know, this is also a hate hate.

...You continuously stalk my presence in my office. You walk by every 30 minutes, completely out of your way, to spy on my whereabouts. Is he in his office? Is he slouching in his chair? Maybe he’s on his cell phone. No, I’m doing two things, I’m doing the work that little 007 should be doing instead of spying on me and I’m sitting here writing about how much I hate you.

...You are in a meeting and do nothing but compliment the people that are actually doing your job from whom you have taken credit. Wow this person is great, he did all this wonderful work, work that I should have been doing. Look, we hired this company to do our jobs for which we are overpaid, they did such an amazing job, such a good job that they proved I am useless and am lucky to actually be employed but I’m too stupid to realize that so I give them credit and sit here getting hated.

Hate Conquers All

2007-06-22T16:05:00.000-04:00

...You say you are from CT then when I ask what town, you tell me a nicer town than your actual town, then when I tell you my hometown, you feel yours isn’t THAT bad so then you reveal the truth. Who’s fooling who here. Oh you’re from Westport but went to school in Bridgeport, who does that? Who lives in a wealthy community then decides to send their kid to a ghetto for his education? No one, you know why? Because you’re from Bridgeport and I’m from hate.

...You have your pants around your ankles as I walk into the bathroom at work. It’s a bit unnecessary to have to pull your pants down that far to tuck in your shirt. Not to mention, have you ever heard of a boxer shorts? Those tightie whities are really starting to burn my eyes and why am I even looking, what’s wrong with me? Just once I’d really love to be able to go to the bathroom and not have to deal with a naked man, with the fowl remnants of someone’s shit, with prostate man that pees for 7 hours and with grouchy guy that hates you.

...You ask a question and use double, triple or even quadruple question marks. Let me teach you a thing or two about email etiquette, the number of question marks indicates the outlandishness of your question. For instance, are you going out after work, warrants only ? A follow up question as in, are you serious deserves the ?? a triple ??? is to be used only for something of the HOLY SHIT category and finally, in only the rarest of rare cases the ???? be used to hate you.

...You ask me for my SAT scores when applying for a job. That was 15 years ago and it’s a college entrance exam, not a requirement for employment at 30 fucking years old. You see I’ve been out of college for about 8 years now, during which time, there’s quite a bit of experience, not to mention the 4 year degree I managed to obtain, it’s quite apparent that my credentials are proven and it’s quite apparent that my hate has been proven.

...You have pictures that your kid drew in your office. It’s great that when your child scribbles on a piece of paper you want to pretend it’s a work of art. Me, I’m your colleague, your kids aren’t here, they’ll never see the scribble on the paper, so put it in a drawer, save yourself the embarrassment and save me the hate.

...You walk around with a modeling pose, Derek Zoolanderish look on your face. Just because you can suck in your cheeks and put a little pout on your face, doesn’t make you a model. It’s makes you a little closer to retarded. Yes, this may be NY and yes there are actual models walking the streets, but I’ve got to level with you, being a PR’s assistant’s assistant does not make you a model, but it certainly makes me a hate.

Hate works in mysterious ways

2007-06-19T15:18:00.000-04:00

...You are the programmer for the dentist office radio station. How is it that in every dentist office, in every part of the country, no matter the year, is always playing the same music? Either pop music is so homogenous that it hasn’t changed in the 30 years I’ve been alive or something is seriously awry. I’m not quite sure how Kelly Clarkson has been playing for the past 10 years, but I know she has been, and Under the bridge without fail, plays every single time I have ever been to a dentist, that dates back to even before the band was formed and way before the hate was formed.

...You are still “sampling” 80’s music for your hip-hop song. A message to all hip-hop artists, PLEASE try to make something original for once, and PLEASE trying playing an actual instrument. I get the whole sampling thing, but you’re not even sampling and haven’t been in over a decade. If I know the exact original song, it’s no longer a sample, its that same fucking song and its this same fucking hate.

...You are sad guy. Oh poor me, feel sorry for me, my life is sooooo hard. My girlfriend dumped me, I hate my job, I’m fat, I’m losing my hair, my feet hurt, my rent went up, boo fucking hoo. Listen guy, you’re girlfriend dumped you 2 years ago, you hate work, not your job, you eat cheetos for breakfast, you shave your head, need I say more? Need I hate more?

...You talk about someone’s ex-girlfriend when they break up failing to allow for the 1 week window of them getting back together. People break up all the time, then two days later their back, except during that two days some of the nastiest, evil things were said by friends to support the breaker and the breakee, but they’re out there, no one can take them back and now you have to live with that on your shoulders for as long as that relationship lasts. There will be awkward moments, uncomfortable dinners, and a lot of hate.

...You are sitting the office with your lights off. Listen I know things are looking pretty grim, it’ll pick up for you I’m sure, but everytime you sit there with your lights off, your boss comes to me to ask what the hell is wrong with you and how can she fire you. I’ve only got so many excuses in my book for why you’re a tool, I’d really like it if you made things easier for me. Fat, Bald and Stupid is no way to ahead at this company, and yes, those are THE most important criteria in your evaluation and right now, the only thing working in your favor is hate.

...You are the IT helpdesk at any company and when giving advice you tell someone to reboot, restart or control, alt delete, after that, you have nothing else to offer then send me to some call center in India. What’s the point of your existence? I can’t believe companies drop 100k a year for you to tell everyone what they already know, reboot, restart or control, alt, delete. I think that’s the sole training you receive and the only qualification to get this job to be able to utter those words just like the only qualification to do my job is to utter the words I hate you.

The feel good hate of the year

2007-06-11T13:54:00.000-04:00

...You say your kid is 19 months or 27 months old. Hey mommy, come back to the real world where people measure age in years, we don’t need exact numbers here. I also don’t really give a shit if your kid is 15 months or 30 months; to me, it’s a little over a year and a little over 2 years, or even better, one and two; or even better still, I didn’t ask I only hated.

...You over fill a little tiny cup with ice cream. I asked for a small, not a quart in a 2 ounce cup. One spoonful will do sir, but you aren’t having that. Now I have chocolate running down my arm. I go to get myself a couple of napkins and you hand me a 1 inch square cocktail napkin, only one. I try to get more and for whatever reason this is not included in the price of my melted ice cream so I have to settle for hating you.

...You send me an email, after I delegate work to you, to say, I will work on that. Yeah stop talking about working on that and just work on that. I don’t need the play by play, otherwise, I would have done it myself instead of hating you.

...You send me a link to pictures of your vacation, all 623 of them. Pictures of exotic locations or fun vacations are nice to see, say 10 of them, you’re entire photo collection of you sitting on a beach and stuffing your face, not so much. God bless the digital camera where you can take as many pointless pictures as you please, throw them up online and invite all your friends to come waste an hour of their life to be utterly bored and you to be completely hated.

...You are the little fat kid from the TV show two and half men. Okay buddy, I’ve seen you in the hood three times now and all three times you were eating cold stone ice cream. A word to the wise, cut back on the sweets, it may be cute to be a 13 year old fat kid now, but unless you plan on pulling a Vern, this is the best it’s ever gonna get and you’ll be left with is hate.

...You are the little kid that rides his razor scooter outside the dirty movie store on 14th street. I can't walk by here without this little punk 4 yr old kid cutting right in front of me so I trip. We're not going to discuss why a 4 yr old kid is outside a dirty video store, or why I happen to even be walking by there on a daily basis, what we are going to discuss is why I hate.

...You walk up to pretty girls in bookstores to hit them by commenting on the book at which they are looking. This is like asking to buy a girl a drink at the bar, I mean what kind of girl really wants to get picked up at a bookstore. I always heard of people actually doing this at bookstores, supermarkets and church, but I never tought there would be a day to witness this, not just once either but three times in a 15 minute span. A word to the wise, the girls are not drunk, so you're still creepy, the lights are not dim, so you're still ugly and I'm there to see, so you're still hated.

...You are wake up service and have a live person call, giving you the snooze option, at which point the same person calls back 10 minutes later and gives you another snooze option, this goes on for an hour and a half. If I wanted to have a conversation the moment I wake up, there are plenty of other people willing to take on the job, but I’m traveling, I want a simple call that says, wake up service for snooze press one, instead I get, Mr. Morning sharing his pleasure with waking up at 3AM and then I give Mr. Hate to you.

A day in the life of hate

2007-06-07T18:06:00.000-04:00

...You are any of the cast of characters I have to avoid on a daily basis.

...You are the same lady at the subway, that is trying to shove some free newspaper in my face, everyday and everyday I decline. If I want the damn paper, I’ll ask you for it, in the meantime, I’ll shove my hate in your face.

...You are my morning coffee barista at the bucks. I go to get my morning coffee and everyday it’s the same person that already knows what I want, pours my coffee ahead of time, then asks me what I want. Everytime you try to guess, then ask, I’m going to change the order, if you want to be like you’re down with me, then just make something and don’t ask, then I won’t hate.

...You are anyone on my floor. I reach my floor and in an attempt to get to my office I go left, but then I have to encounter, hey, me, you, Patrick, let’s get lunch, we’ll grab a burger. I go right and I hear, hi greg how are you? Uh fine, do you have anything else to say to me, ever? I spend the next 10 hours of my life trying to avoid these two people, five days a week, but unfortunately they never avoid my hate.

...You are the same retarded cook in the cafeteria that has to take an order, begin cooking the order, wait 5 minutes for everything to be cooked, then take the next order and start the process again. Is it that difficult to take 5 orders of plain omelets at one time? How about a single order of hate?

...You are the guy two offices down from me that stops in every day to ask if I can put in the good word with his boss. Dude, you’re like 50 and you’re asking me to put in the good word for you? Who’s gonna put in the good word for me? oh yeah, let me ruin my credibility by saying the inept tool is so good, he really helps out and adds so much value. How does it feel to have 20 more years of experience than me and be asking for my good word and good hate?

...You are the afternoon barista at the bucks who every day says, hey there stranger then smiles with her chicklet teeth. Well if I see you everyday, we’re not exactly strangers now are we? Let me add you to the list of people to avoid and let me add you to the list of people to hate.

...You are my boss that waits until 5:45 to come down to my office to talk about things. You’re a ghost all day and suddenly you appear after I’ve been suffering for 10 hours, now you decide we’ll talk about things, let me clarify, you will talk about things because I’m not allowed to. You will ramble on more incessantly than my blog, then you will get hated.

...You are the office of ineptitude that I have to walk by everyday on my way out and have to pretend like I want to say goodnight and if I’m lucky, you’ll try to start a conversation as I’m LEAVING. You can see I’m leaving, so can’t you see that I’m hating?

...You are the guy outside the subway on the way home that tries to sell me this morning’s news. Um, maybe you haven’t gotten the news from such old newspapers, but there’s something called the internet, and people waste half their day at work on it and then hate on it.

...You are the people at the gym everyday, that don’t know what a line is. A line works by one person at the front, then everyone else stands behind that person, single file. What you don’t do is stand horizontally, you don’t scatter across the room standing aimlessly so then 6 people argue when a machine opens up and then I hate when the machine opens up

...You are my neighbors that slam their door shut about 19 times during the daily show and Colbert. Who the fuck is coming in and out of there? I’m convinced the 12 year old girl is selling drugs, what else could it be other than me selling hate?

Land of the rising hate

2007-06-04T17:08:00.000-04:00

...You are in first class and stand right at the entrance to the coach section and stand. You don’t just stand, you put your hands on your hips, hold your head high and look back as if you are overseeing your kingdom, admiring your fiefdom. That little translucent curtain separating us common folk from those that have their companies pay for business class just isn’t enough. Hasn’t anyone given thought that maybe us people in the economy rows don’t want to look at the first class section? I guess one additional perk is to not only have better seats, but to make the frugal people feel like shit. One other perk of course is to be hated.

...You congregate in the aisle of an airplane. Yes, I too like to trap myself in a two foot by foot section and then when people try to pass, I enjoy pissing them off to the point of having them shout in my ear. I’m really trying to figure out if people are that stupid, are that clueless or that big of an asshole that they don’t recognize that standing in the middle of the aisle, while being morbidly obese, keep everyone else from being able to move, such as to take a piss, so instead I’ll piss on you while I’m hating you.

...You come to offer turn down service 17 times during the span of 3 hours. I only wish this was an exaggeration, I really do. But if I’m taking a nap from 5 to 8, the bed’s already turned down. Not to mention, you already turned it down at 4, when you left the disgusting fish appetizers on my pillow. Ever hear of a mint? I don’t need you to come in to fold the blanket halfway open, I think I can manage that one on my own and I think I can hate you on my own.

...You deliver room service at precisely the time preferred time indicated. So I give a range of 30 minutes then a preferred time of 9:37 for deliver of food. I swear, the second the clock hit 9:37, there goes the doorbell for room service. Don’t get me wrong I love the dedication to customer service, but people don’t even know when someone’s fucking with them or when someone’s hating them.

...You have a bow off with me. I know it’s customary and a cultural difference, but isn’t one bow enough? You bow, then I bow, then you bow, then I bow, then you bow, then I bow….I can go all night, how much do you have in you? It’s amazing, perhaps there is a secret word to make it stop, but my round eyes should give away that I wouldn’t know, I’d only hate.

...You are sitting at a table next to me, speaking Japanese and talking about me saying (in Japanese of course) “that gaijin sure knows how to use chopsticks”. Let me relate this to the white ignorant folk, it’s the same thing as saying; wow that (insert Asian ethnic slur) sure know how to eat with a fork. Exactly, it’s not rocket science, it’s 2 sticks. And I’m sure most of you are wondering how I may have come to know what they were saying, well how about the beautiful Japanese woman with whom I was dining, perhaps she might be able to translate for me and perhaps she may be able to hate for me.

...You are housekeeping for a hotel and fold my dirty clothes. All right, enough is enough, when I throw my dirty stinky clothes into the corner, I don’t expect anyone to ever be handling them again, let alone folding them. You’ve got to be kidding me. In even the finest of hotels in the states, I’m lucky if housekeeping will place a pair of pants on a chair, but fold my dirty undies is a whole other ball game and a whole other hate.

...You chase me down after I check out of a room in Kyoto with a piece of garbage I left behind. It’s a gum wrapper lady, I understand you are keeping things traditional, and it’s all the manner of the Geishas but surely you have seen a gum wrapper before and surely you do not have to present it to me with both hands. Actually, that was pretty funny and worth the hate.

Something is rotten in the State of Hate

2007-05-24T12:56:00.000-04:00

...You start a blog about three months AFTER I started this blog which is titled, ihatethis.org. You apparently were (maybe still are) working at an ad agency, FUNNY, because I was working at an ad agency when it was written, perhaps you have my old computer, perhaps you stole my idea and made it worse, perhaps you are hated.

O’er the land of the free and the home of the hate

2007-05-23T15:57:00.000-04:00

…You hire someone to work with me, that has the same last name as me. As if enough people don’t break my balls because I look young, now I’m going to have to hear shit about my last name? I may as well have been relegated to IT with Patel, Patel & Patel or to the quants with Chin, Chan, Chen and Chang or maybe to the blog with I Hate & You.

…You are Gupta & Co. that show up to a meeting with myself and finance to act as the “business analyst”. Here we go with the biggest bullshit career in the economy, next to a McKinsey consultant of course, even more bullshit than my career. The alleged ANALyst, shows up, there are 4 of them mind you, to help streamline a process, convert to IT lingo, then automatic. Ok, how come when I describe the already streamlined process, you manage to fuck it up and get it completely wrong, and the two mutes in the corner, we’ll call them Silent Bob and Teller, have nothing to say other than bobbling the heads to the tune of me hating you.

…You are a McKinsey consultant. Congratulations you narrowly beat out the waste of space business analysts. You come in, you find out what’s wrong, you tell people they run their business poorly, they are mismanaging their people, then when Lee Iacocca over here, asks ok, how do we fix it, you say, oh we don’t do that, I don’t know how you fix it. My entire life is pointing out people’s fault, you’re telling me you’ve made an industry out of this? I’ll save these companies some money, direct them all to my hate.

…You are wandering for 40 days and 40 nights throughout Yankee stadium, looking for your seats because you are borderline illiterate. People make finding a seat harder than cracking one of Columbo’s mysteries. Well Peter Faulk, there’s a section a row and a seat number, how ever will we find the seat? I mean with everything clearly marked, it’s extra complicated. Here’s an idea, with the new stadium, please, number the seats 1 through 55,782 in consecutive, sequential order. I’m really curious to see how some of these people are contributing to society when all I see them contributing to is my hate.

…You are at a Yankee/Red Sox game and holding a sign that says Red Sox Suck. Well Stephen Hawking, I know numbers are complex, but 10 games ahead, a suck it does not make. I’m all in favor of pointing out the many times Boston has succumbed to the fates of history, but until the Yankees are in a position to point and snicker, shut the fuck up or risk being hated.

…You are a seemingly normal middle age man out enjoying a baseball game, but when the opposing team goes to bat, you start screaming, you fucking suck, suck a cock, etc, etc. etc. What the? What just happened here, do you normally speak like this? I would also like to inform you that there is no chance in hell that batter heard a word that came out of your mouth, the only thing they understood was that I hate you.

…You are at a baseball game and piss in the sink. What is it about ballpark beer that turns people into wild savages. Yeah I was young once too, but the urge to relieve myself never took such a strong hold on me to resort to peeing in sink rather than wait the extra 14 seconds to pee in a urinal and the extra 10 seconds to hate you.

…You go to a baseball game when it’s about 70 degrees and sunny in the evening, you wear shorts and t-shirt, then when the sun goes down and it drops to 50, you’re sitting there shivering. You dumb shit, have you ever been outside before? I have to sit here, listening to you ramble on and on about how cold you are while I watch you drink and ice cold beer. The best part is, it is the geniuses like you that insist on reproducing, but the smart people in the world are not fertile. Just as old people revert back to children as they age, apparently a species can revert back to primitive as they get hate.

…You are the lady serving me a beer at a baseball game and you call baby 7 times then once I pay, you say, “oh thank you boo”. I’m you’re boo now? Well my girlfriend may be a little surprised by this, she may not be too happy with that. But I am a little curious how we went from complete stranger to exchanging close intimate pet names with each other. Was it when I showed you my ID or when I hated you?

…You are anyone that exists at Yankee stadium. That’s it I’m done with this place, I can’t go anymore. You have the same crap at every game, same singer of the national anthem, same retard yelling at everyone to take their hats off, same retard yelling at everyone to stand up on a 2 strike count, same assholes saying the other team sucks, same tool dancing in a straw hat to cotton eye joe, same retards booing A-rod one day, then cheering for him the next, same 1920’s phonograph recording of god bless America, same $9 beers, same people pissing in sinks and garbage cans, same 450 pound obese man trying to squeeze into a tiny stadium seat while eating 19 hotdogs at the same time, same douchebag spilling beer all over the person in front of him and same me hating all of you.

Times they are a hatin'

2007-05-22T16:10:00.000-04:00

…You send an email to my work email account saying, my inbox has exceeded the storage capacity. You then immediately follow up with another email saying the exact same thing. You send the first one after 5PM on Friday, so that’s two on Friday, then 2 more on Saturday, then another 2 on Sunday. Then somehow, you know to send 2 more before I even get in on Monday morning. Now you have filled my inbox with 8 emails increasing the storage excess and increasing my hate.

….You yawn with mouth uncovered in public. Thank you for that up close and personal view of all your fillings and the remnants of your breakfast, I also had eggs this morning. Unlike you however, I brush, which may explain the rotten tooth look you are sporting. Is it that much effort to raise your hand up to your mouth and cover it? I know the effort involved is tremendous and those yawns really sneak up on you without any warning and then my hate sneaks up on you without warning.

…You are a grown adult using a backpack. Hiking? Okay, backpack will work, even to the beach or the gym or some other type of physical/outdoor activity, please feel free, use the backpack. Commuting to work? Hey buddy, you’re 45, it’s time to lose the pack. Maybe 30 years ago when you were in high school it was cool to carry around the backpack, but you wear a suit to work now, the double shoulder strap is no longer working for you. Let us not forget that in addition to looking foolish, you don’t seem to have a handle on the additional space taken up by your backpack. Example, you are on the subway, you enter the train and after stopping immediately in front of the door so no one else can get on the train, the doors shut and your backpack get’s caught in the door, after 5 minutes of the doors opening and shutting on your backpack, you realize this is being caused by you, as a reaction, you immediately turn, again not considering the additional 3 feet of width you now have, you knock 4 people over and then when turning to see what happened (because of the screams) you knock another 3 people over on the other side of you and then you are officially hated.

…You email me 1 minute before our 930 AM call to say, hey I’m tied up, I’ll call you in a little while. Oh really, I didn’t realize you were that important to make me wait the entire day for your highness to find the 5 minutes required to speak to me. You know, I don’t like this job any more than you do, so let’s get this over with. I don’t come to work everyday to sit around waiting for you to call, I come here to hate you.

…You are a part of the medical industry. So here’s how this scam works. You have an insurance company that says, hey use us because we can get you better rates with doctors because there are so many people in our pool. Employer, let’s call them, Mismanagement Inc., offers you, the employee, medical insurance because of said discounted rate. As more and more people join such insurance plans and the doctors are giving more and more discounted rates. It cuts into their profits, but since it is the rate that is discounted and not the actual cost, the doctors start to increase their fees. So now, just to visit a doctor, it costs $500 for about 3 minutes, the discounted price might be about $175, but for the poor sap on the street, it’s still 500 bucks. If that wasn’t bad enough, when you go to make an appointment, they book 7 other people at the same time, so now you’re 10AM appt. turned into an all day affair of waiting because when everyone else goes to see him they get 2 hours, but when I go to seem, I get 3 minutes and then he gets hate.

…You are the magazine supplier of doctor’s room magazines. There must be a rule that all magazines have to be at a minimum 7 months old, and that’s just the news. When you get to your home and gardens, golf digest, and highlights, you’re pushing a year. I’m thinking there is some second magazine dealer out there that just like the doctor’s services, are giving discounted rates to offices. I was reading about the Bush/Gore election in a December 2000 Rolling Stone, just last week and I was reading about hating you right here.

…You are my company and don’t provide me with a medical plan that allows me to go to any doctor and pay whatever I want up to a deductible. I will gladly pay $1000 a visit if I can show up for a 10AM appointment at 10 and be seen at 10 and then actually have a thorough check done on me, get my blood work there, get an X-ray there, if I need to see someone else, I want to get at least 3 names and have the doctor call for me and then have the doctor hate for me.

…You ask me if I saw the break up and I say no, did you? Then you say, I’m not sure. You’re not sure? Then why are you quoting it? It’s okay to admit it, I’ve seen (and enjoyed) some rather embarrassing titles in the past, have I mentioned Chasing Liberty? Need I say more? It’s classics like this that define a generation. I don’t know what that even means, but I do know what hates means and I think it’s you.

…You are in a waiting room and can’t keep your fat mouth shut for more than 2 minutes. It doesn’t matter who sits next to you, you insist on chattin it up with them, it’s as though you body can physically sit still for more than instant before your mouth opens and verbal diarrhea exits. So in the 7 hours I’ve been waiting here pretending to read Newsweek from February, I’ve learned that you had the same injury when you were 13, then in your 20’s and now again. I know you’re going to Italy in June for 2 weeks. I know your daughter even suffered the same injury as you. You used to play field hockey as a child. Summers in Rangoon, Luge lessons…oh wait…I know that you were lucky you found that cane in your basement otherwise you had no idea how you would have been able to haul your 300 pound ass to the doctor to get hated by me.

Hey, Hey, You, You, I really hate your girlfriend

2007-05-16T14:08:00.000-04:00

...You and your douchebag buddy are blabbing on the subway about work, millions of dollars, banks in the caymans and your boss, Mike. Yes I understand you are in a suit so that automatically means you have to play international banker man while speaking at volumes so the entire train can hear. You’re important, I get that. It does seem a little odd that this Mike character isn’t riding the subway with you, I mean two sophisticated, educated and well off gentlemen as yourselves would never be taking a the subway home at 9PM, I know you would be taking the car service like your boss, unless that is of course you are full of shit, full of hot air and full of my hate.

...You say you are not hungry and tell me to order food without you, then when I order a delicious meal, you eat more of it than I do. Can we get this straight please, my food is for me, you can certainly try it, but when I get food, I’m not ordering the family size. Let’s also get this straight, the words, ‘I am not hungry, order food without me’ indicate to me, that you are in actuality, not hungry and I should therefore order only enough food for me and exactly what I would like to eat and exactly what I would like to hate.

...You remind me of your dietary restrictions every time you eat in my presence. Oh so you are allergic to peanuts, shell fish, almonds, green beans, pasta, air. Why even continue living? To make it worse, you are allergic to wheat glutin, this is apparently in every single type of food that exists on the planet. Why do I know this you ask? Because you never shut the fuck up about it. Ok, you’re allergic, that sucks, but don’t make it my problem, because if you do, you have made it my hate.

...You are guilty of awesome abuse. Is it really awesome when someone answers a basic question, like when can I expect to hear back from you? Is someone really ‘awesome’ because they can count to ten? Awesome should be reserved….wait scratch that, it should not be reserved it should simply just not be used; now THAT would be awesome and that is hated.

...You write online reviews on amazon, citysearch, itunes, etc. Can you think of anything more pointless than writing a review online, I mean taking the time to meticulously detail your experience with a particular product, restaurant or song and then think that people actually care and value your opinion even though you are unknown and are most likely a middle age man in the basement. I mean what could be worse than writing these ‘reviews’ at 2 in the morning? Perhaps reading these reviews at 3 in the morning? Perhaps blogging every detail about hating you?

...You are on a conference call and give your name every time you speak. Kathy here, what I think we need to do is gain some traction on gaining some efficiency for producing gains in the weight gain sector. Thanks for clarifying who you are Kathy, because you’re the only woman on the call and now you’re the only hated one on the call.

...You ask me during an interview where I see myself in 5 years. Where do I see myself? Um, how about in your job? Is there anyone that answers this question without some bullshit answer? Are there people out there that actually sit down, have a 5 year plan organized to the point of being specific enough to some job for which they are interviewing now? If you’re asking a bullshit question, expect a bullshit answer, it’s ridiculous that you would even seriously ask such a question: So tell me where do you see yourself in five year? How about hating you!

A Rolling Stone Gathers No Hate

2007-05-14T10:46:00.000-04:00

…You come round to my seat before take off to ask if I would like a massage during the flight, why yes, yes I would love a massage, but then you never show up. I’m concerned about my first class treatment here. Maybe you haven’t heard but I write a blog, I have about 10 readers and about a million hates.

…You stop me at everyone point of airport check in to say, excuse me sir, this is for first class only. Yeah asshole, I am in first class. Do I really need to be wearing a suit or be crusty old to be sitting in first class? Maybe I’m some over privileged obnoxious kid that blows his money on cheap whores, hard drugs and first class airfare, does that make sense? No, so perhaps I’m wearing jeans because I’m not at work and because I’m hating you.

…You are the city planner for London that decided garbage cans would just make too much sense. Either I’m blind or this city doesn’t believe in public garbage cans, or should I say rubbish. Either way they are about as few and far between as their non toll public rest rooms. Its like every rest room is at a club and you have to tip out the towel boy. Please, just let me throw this out, let me take a piss, then let me hate you.

…You sit next to me on a puddle jumper plane, chat me up for about half the ride, then lean in real close and say, btw I’m sick as a dog, I’ve got this cold I just can’t kick. Thanks fucknut now I’m sick and now I hate.

…You create a currency with more worthless coins than the US. You got your 1 pence coin, 2 pence coin, 10 pence coin, 20 pence coin (I think we’re just about at a penny’s worth of value) 50 pence coin, 1 pound coin, 2 pound coin. At what point do country’s stop producing worthless money? I’m still pondering the penny’s existence, I’m now pondering the pence’s existence, but I’m certainly not pondering my hate’s existence.

…You are a driver in London that doesn’t know where the hotel is and has to ask me. The first time you passed by it, I was being polite, I didn’t want to embarrass you, the second time we passed by it, I got a little anxious, I just wanted to get there already, the third time we passed by I had to point out that I’m from NY, you’re from London, this is your equivalent of broadway, and you can’t find the hotel based on the numbered address. The fourth time we passed by it, I had to remind you that you are ill equipped to handle being a driver in your own city and the fifth time we passed by it, I had to state that I hate you.

…You are wearing a wrist of 4 inch thick metal bracelets going through the security line reserved for first class and don’t take the metal blocks off your arm. Either you belong on some sort of social welfare for the mentally challenged or you are that much of an obnoxious, entitled bitch you think that security rules don’t apply to you. You know this is going to set off the machine, you just have to know this, yet you proceed to hold up the entire line and proceed to accelerate my hate.

…You are the crazy lady in St. James park at 9AM that stumbled up to the Asian man, got right in his face, yelled something in jibberish, then laughed like there was no tomorrow. After stumbling by the Asian man, you then found your way into the tall grass where you lifted up your skirt and took a piss. Holy crap, you’re a dude and you’re hated.

Welcome Back Hater

2007-05-04T14:50:00.000-04:00

...You call a meeting, you invite me, then I have to lead the meeting. This is your meeting buddy, you called me, what do you want? Don’t look at me all deer in the headlights, I don’t have to be here, I could be back in my office trying to reconnect with my fans. Why is it that I’m the only one that showed up to this meeting with something actually written on my notebook? Everyone else is sitting around with nothing to say while I have everything to hate.

...You are Jerry Garcia. Let me explain as I have nothing against the Late Jerry, I’m talking about his reincarnated self that is now the cfo of my company. Actually I don’t think Garcia ever died, I don’t believe it, he went into finance rose to cfo in record time. I mean this guy is even missing the same finger and his previous drug use is quite apparent. I do have to say, Jerry with short hair freaks me out, freaks me out to the point of hate.

...You tell me you get in at 7 so you are free all morning to meet. Ok, you are getting into the office at 7, but are free to meet? Then why the hell are you getting into the office at 7? You might be worse than the people who brag about how late they stay at night, at least they get in after 9. Getting into to work early is not a badge of honor, it is only a symbol of hate.

...You say your job is a mixologist. Let’s get this straight, you’re a bartender. That’s it. You stand behind the bar in a capacity that one might call ‘tending to the bar’. You poor a drink and you collect money. You’re the consultants of bar tending, a fancy name with a do nothing job. I have a fancy name for my job in the wordsmith industry, Chief Creative Hater of YOU.

...You tell your friend that I am ‘actually cute’. Actually? I’ve met you like 5 times, so does this mean up until now, I’ve been some kind of hideous beast? What is with people using this ‘actually’ terminology, do you not realize the connotation associated with that? How about this? I ACTUALLY, hate you.

...You refer to someone you by saying, oh he’s sooooo smart. Really? So smart? Well since you’re a fucking idiot, I guess the whole world is filled with geniuses. I really have too question your judgment when you claim someone is smart. I don’t buy it, but I do hate it.

...You write to me in an email “you rock”. Um yeah I don’t rock actually, I emo, but that’s besides the point. You say this to me as though you are my superior, like I’m little file boy that brought you a file and being that I’m not capable of doing anything more complicated then look up a name and bring something to you, you then have to demean me further by saying I “rock”. You know what? You rock. I mean absolutely rock. AND I mean absolutely hate.

...You continuously refer to yourself as just “a Jew from long island”. So is this supposed to somehow differentiate yourself from the 5 million other Jews from Long Island? Aren’t there ONLY Jews from Long Island? We get it, you’re “diverse” I understand, stop reminding me every time you do something that is stereotypical of a NY Jewish person, its so overdone and it’s so under hated.

...You speak to me your corporate voice, when we’re not at work. What’s even worse is that I don’t work with you, there’s no reason to confuse the inflection used in your voice with me since we never interact while your working. Has work seeped into the very essence of your being that you can no longer speak a normal conversation and only speak a normal hate.

...You interview me for a job, then when it comes time to discuss how much I make, you say wow, you are severely under paid, you must suck at what you do, thanks for playing our game. WTF. What does a man have to do? I can’t help it if I’ve been fucked over 1 too many times, why do you think I’m looking for a new job? Fucking logic here esse. And fucking hate here.

I'm just livin' the hate

2007-04-27T12:50:00.000-04:00

...You are wearing stretchy pants with granny panties. Is that a diaper? With an ass like that you have zero business wearing stretchy pants, then you have the gall wear a shirt that does extend down beyond your waist. Do you not realize that people can see you? You actually stepped out of the house like that, it boggles the mind. I wouldn’t be as surprised if you were the crazy semi homeless woman that can occasionally be seen yelling at me in union square, I mean she has no choice. You on the other hand are in an office building, with professionals and are under the age of ancient, you therefore are hated.

...You type emails using double spaces. When’s your essay on A Separate Peace due? Mine is due next week. I was careful to use my theme paper, double spaced in a plastic binder thingy, because presentation counts for more than content. I wrote all about how I’m in fifth grade, yet some how have a “respectable” corporate job. I parallel this to the way that Finn had internal latent issues with hating you.

...You send me a piece of paper by inter office mail. It is bad enough that you sit less than 10 steps away from me and it’s actually farther for you to go walk it over to the mail room rather than to my office, BUT the really annoying part is that I asked you to email it to me. What good is a piece of paper? What am I going to do with this other than throw it out? You are as pointless as a rotary phone, not even useful as a novelty, only useful as a hate.

...You misspell your own name. Out of all the words in existence, out of all the names, you fuck up the spelling of your own. Even if it’s a typo, that’s the one word you should always catch, is it not? How hard it is to even spell your name, john smith? Perhaps your name should be changed to You A. Hated.

...You schedule me for a Dr. apt. at 9, I show up to the office at 8:50, you know to get the paper work out of the way so I can get in by 9 and be on my way. To my dismay, my 9 AM apt was only a suggested time because apparently, you suggested that 15 other people show up at 9AM as well creating a free for all. It’s like your taping for a show and you overbook to make sure there are no empty seats in the audience. Unless you are going to line us all up and walk by for a turn and cough, we’re gonna be here all day and I’m gonna hate you all day.

...You have a barcode. Hey, I’m sure it must be traumatic to lose your air, it’s like losing a part of your soul, I get that. But your nine, 4 foot long hairs greased down across your dome from left to right don’t fool anyone. How can you look at yourself in the morning everyday when you wake up with your Willy Wonka hair dangling to your shoulder on one side as you reach for your palmade and I reach for my hate.

...You are customer service and when answering the phone you say, hi this Mr. Walker. What is so secret about your name Mr. Bond? Why can’t I know your first name? is it because you are Jimmy walker and really just too embarrassed for people to know you’ve been reduced to working in a call center? Who refers to themselves by mr. or ms. Anyway? You doesn't refer to you as hated?

...You respond to someone calling you Mr. Walker by saying. Mr. Walker is my dad, call me Jim. That’s Jimbo way to identify with the youth. Let’s try to get down to the kid’s level because we’re going to be talking about some serious subjects here, drugs and sex. We know, you’re a 38 yr old ex addict now you’re giving talks to the kids at school about life on the streets, it’s hard out there man and it’s hated out there.

...You are my weekend barista at the local starbucks and accuse of me of trying to swindle myself a couple of free coffees. So a conservative estimate would be that I spend maybe $1200 a year in starbucks. I go to get me a couple cups for myself and the lady one Sunday morning, I return to the old apartemento with the cups, we drink them and enjoy them, then on our way out the door, we stop back in for a refill, which are supposed to be 50 cents. Well what took place at the counter was a series of shock and awe. The very same barista from the morning made the accusation “well I know you didn’t get these from here” to which I replied “well yes I did, in fact I got them from you.” evil barista’s reply. “well these are cold.” Common sense man’s (me) reply “of course they are cold, they are empty, that’s why I came in for some more”. Low IQ barista’s reply “I’ll let it go this time, but just no my manager is here”. Pushing it too far guy’s reply “Um can you replace the lid, it’s kind of dirty”. I take my minimum wage coffee maker job too far barista’s reply, “it’s called a refill, you get the same cup, I can’t give you a new lid, it can’t be done, it’s a refill, not a new cup”. Going to slash your tires, pissed off consumer guy’s (me) reply “I hate you.”

I once was lost, but now I hate

2007-04-18T15:01:00.000-04:00

...You put pictures of Asians on the front page of a newspaper when showing mourners from the VA Tech shooting. You know, we understand. The shooter was Asian. We get it. Try being a little less trite and try being a little more hated.

...You are American Airlines. You have an entire flight board a plane, leave them boarded, on the runway for 3 hours before a 3 hour flight. You offer no apology, you offer no complimentary spirits, you don't even offer a free snack given that people are now stuck aboard a plane for 6 hours. You are reluctant to book people on new flights after missing connections because of your mechanical error with a plane. You then have me wait 4 hours for my new connecting flight, all the while, offering no compensatory items such as a meal voucher. You caused my 5 hour door to door journey transform to a 14 hour trek. Give me my 9 hours back, give me my sanity back and I'll give you your hate back.

...You are American Airlines. You delayed my return flight by leaving me on the runway for 1.5 hours, then circled for 30 minutes prior to landing, then sat on the runway for 45 minutes AFTER landing. My 8:00 arrival turned into 10:30, and your friendly skies turned into my hated skies.

...You are sitting next to me on an airplane, see that I am reading, then proceed to have a 2 hour discussion with me. You see the book? I'm reading, for me to read, you need to be quiet. I am not going to have a conversation with you about your 2 day delay, boo freaking hoo, I was delayed 20 minutes and that is SO much more important than your 2 days and SO much less important than my hate.

...You get up to go the bathroom the second the pilot turns off the seat belt sign. What the? There is no way that after the 10 minutes since you boarded that you could possibly have to pee already. Even if this were an isolated incident I could understand, but no, every flight on which I have ever flown, you exist. Not only do you get up immediately, you get up every 20 minutes, what are you doing in there? Where are you going? Why are you hated?

...You are American Airlines. Your customer service department consists entirely of a post office box to nowhere. That's it. There is no phone number, no agent at the airport, the ticket agent won't hear your compaints, the pilot won't, no one. I guess when you are the biggest piece of shit airline that I will never fly again, you have to expect that people will want to call ad nauseam with hate.

...You are the one, ever present gay man at every conferance that has to live up to every stereotype of gay men. I swear this is the only thing that gets me through a conferance. You have to enjoy the commentary during a presentation. The commentary can be on anything, the decor of the conference, the attractiveness of the waitstaff or pool boys, the desireability of someone's office location, the outfit of the ugliest person or the hatred of you.

...You interview me for a job in October. The first date is always so promising. You tell me, this is preliminary and you don't have anything but will call me for the next round of interviews when you are ready to move. Well it was a fun date, we'll see if they call again. You call me the last week of December to say, "we are ready to move, are you still interested? Once we interview this will happen very fast." Oh so you ready for a relationship, I'm still available. I interview, it goes great, you tell me how great I am and how interested you are and that you will have an offer for me shortly. Great second date, this could go somewhere. January passes, no word. I follow up to say hey, I get a response, Oh so and so wants to meet for coffee to discuss the specifics with you. Oh why did I call, I look so desparate. February goes by, no word. They could smell the desparation, oh please please call me. March comes, I meet for this "coffee", more feeding of the BS, we love you, we want you, come work for us, we'll have an offer Monday. Finally a follow up date, oh life is good again. Monday passes, I give up, I don't want to work for you anymore. I've been dating other people, yup, you're not the only one, but I do hope they call. A month passes and you give me a call. So I'm now your booty call, when did this happen? You ask if I'm still at my job and if I'm interested. I say of course I'm interested. You're just so irrestible. You say you will have an offer by Friday. Well you guessed it, it is now Wednesday, nothing, nada, hatred. I'm still waiting for you.

The old man and the hate

2007-04-10T11:28:00.000-04:00

...You can't wait another week for posts. Listen people 2 years of hating is a drag on one man's soul and a drag on one man's creativity. Give me some time to recharge my hate at a conference in key west and I'll give you some time for hate.

If you see something; Hate something

2007-04-03T15:58:00.000-04:00

...You pass by people in the hall and the only thing you can ever say is how are you. I walk by you and you say, how are you. Okay, a normal greeting. I see you later that morning, I hold the door for you and you say, how are you. Hmm that’s strange, a simple thanks would have done, but since you ask, I’m not bad. The cafeteria, same day, how are you. You know, I don’t think you’ve ever said anything else to me, let me pay closer attention. In the coffee room that afternoon…how are you. Holy shit, you’re freaking me out, you are borderline schitz and you are completely hated.

...You can’t find your seat at a sporting event. It’s like a riddle, so difficult. Gate – section – box – row – seat. All very clearly marked and all in sequential order. Might I suggest you approach this from left to right. Otherwise, you may be looking for the row or seat before you made it to your section. Enter the appropriate gate, go to your section, find the correct box, walk down to your row, slide over to your seat where you find me sitting there, hating you.

...You are incapable of making a coffee cup that doesn’t leak. In the past 2 years I don’t think a day has passed where I have not had some bit of coffee drip out either onto my tie, my shirt, my pants, my desk or even dribble down my chin. In the world today, there is pretty advanced technology, we can make computers that think and learn from their mistakes but we can make a damn coffee cup that doesn’t leak and a manufacturer that isn’t hated?

...You yell “HATS OFF” the second the announcer at yankee stadium says please rise. Do you even know why people remove their hats during the national anthem? No? Neither do I, which is exactly why I would never demand that some complete stranger sitting 5 rows (not sections people) in front of me, remove his hat. Is it a matter of respect? Well certainly not, seeing the way you are dressed, the way you speak, the way you yell at the vend-ahs, the way you maul the red sox fan and the way you get hated.

...You have the pleasure of sitting next to me at a baseball game, being a complete stranger and then have the audacity to ask me for a piece of my pretzel. Do we know each other? You are sitting next to me and your cougar girlfriend sees my pretzel and instead of keeping her thoughts private, she thinks aloud and says, I want a pretzel, gimme a pretzel. Listen honey, maybe 15 years ago that shit worked, but it’s clear you’ve seen some better days, the pack and sixer a day are really showing their effects on you and it isn’t pretty. While the ravages of time may have effected your ability to get what you want, there has been no effect on my ability to hate you.

...You open up yet another Irish pub. What the world needs now is another cookie cutter Irish pub, like I need a hole in the head. And where do all these Irish bar tenders come from? Is there a bar tender exchange program? If I go to Ireland, will I find a bunch of divey bars run by annoying Americans? We have enough Connolly’s, Oneil’s, McCaffrey’s and McHateyou’s.

...You send me an email at 5 in the morning asking for something as basic as an exchange rate, then by the time I get into work, you have already asked someone else, never telling me that you went to someone else for the answer. What the? since when is getting in by 8 in the morning not early enough? And since when is hating you by 6AM not early enough?

...You are a group of fat girls that says to the one thin girl, oh girl, you so skinny you can eat whatever you want. Or, Girlfriend, you’re eating those chocolates again how do you keep so skinny? You want to know why? Because girlfriend knows when to say when. What’s the poor girl supposed to say in such a situation, that’s right, I’m thin, you’re not, so let’s all go eat cake. Unfortunately, the caucus of fat women don’t think like that, the caucus of fat women are ganging up on the pretty girl and the caucus of me, is hating up on you.

Business in the front; hatred in the back

2007-03-27T11:24:00.000-04:00

...You attempt to bring luggage through a revolving door. Wow this city IS crazy, they have doors that revolve, but how are you supposed to get your luggage through? How about you don’t pick up your suitcase, but then try drag it behind you on the little wheels, but don’t even keep right behind, let the suitcase extend out to it’s full capacity so that when you walk through the revolving door it gets stuck. Also, make sure to ignore the regular door right next to it, it has a sign that says, please use revolving door, especially with luggage and especially with hate.

...You make corrections to a memo and write your “corrections” in hieroglyphics. I’m confused, do you want me to make some sort of change to the text or do you want me to draw you a fucking picture? You’re not signing your name here, you are trying to convey an actual point, try making legible. I’m happy to play this game of back and forth here, but if you actually want something done try printing the words and I’ll try hating you.

...You wear shoulder pads. Hey working girl, 1985 came and went, then came back and went away again. The power red blazer with the football player shoulder pads doesn’t really give you that extra edge, it makes you look rather mannish. Maybe you’ll start playing racquetball with the boss so you can get in that QT. If you’re trying to make an impression try doing your job well and try hating yourself.

...You are the Spring fever gym joiners. You go to the gym 3 weeks out of the year. The first week in January, the first week of Spring and the week before Memorial day. We’re two thirds of the way through. You have no idea of the rules of the gym, all of us are waiting in line for the treadmills, it’s not some new workout routine, it’s pretty common sense here, why else would we all be waiting? Those signs posted all over the gym that say 30 minute limit during peak hours are not a suggestion, and no peak hours are not 9 to 5, you see in the logical and rational world, everyone knows that people work during those hours, so think about it in that tiny little brain of yours, right before and right after would be peak hours. Not to mention that working your fat ass for an hour a day a total of 3 weeks a year does not get you in shape, it only gets you hate.

...You own Nickelback CD. Please tell me that was given to in some sort free CD giveaway. It’s people like you that actually buy this crap that perpetuate the production of such music. I’m pretty sure they have like 5 albums, it’s all one long continuous song that they just cut into 5 forty minute segments. If you stop buying, I’ll stop hating.

...You are in a bathroom stall doing what needs to be done and make noises as though you are lifting weights. Ok, the obesity epidemic has really gotten carried away when pooping exudes too much energy. It’s as though your life is so hard just because you ate a bucket of chicken and had a six pack of beer and now you have to struggle to clear out your system. Next time you have to go, take the stairs to another floor, struggle to build your crowsnest and that way I won’t have to hate you.

...You are on an extremely crowded subway, so crowded you are literally sandwiched between two people, where instead of making an effort to hold on to a rail you decide that I will hold you up. When the train starts moving, rather than fight centrifugal force, you see me as your stopping block and I see you as my hate.

...You call someone sweetie. What are you like 20? There 2 people that can call me sweetie, my girlfriend and my mother. That’s it. You don’t even know my name, yet you are calling me sweetie, just because you are bringing me coffee doesn’t mean we’re sweethearts it just means you’re hated.

If hating you is wrong, I don't want to be right

2007-03-21T15:52:00.000-04:00

...You are harassing me to have lunch with you. The situation has become dire where the hours of 12 to 2 require intense strategic planning so as to avoid your ever present question of asking me to lunch. I don’t know what it is about eating with me that makes the top of your daily annoyance list, but whatever the case may be you insist on dining with yours truly and you insist on being hated by yours truly.

...You talk about your Saturn like it’s a Rolls. I understand that they give you a free coffee down at the Saturn dealership when they change your oil, that’s a huge a perk, I know. But seriously, the little third door doesn’t impress me, nor does the annual convention of Saturn owners. I just want you to come to grips with the fact that you drive a Saturn and I just want you to come to grips with my hate.

...You corner me in the cafeteria to ask me to eat with you. Listen Saturn, just because you are twice my age and I am more senior than you, doesn’t mean I’m going to give you advice on handling the crazy lady in the corner. She’s your age, talk to her about what it was like to grow up in the 50’s or something, ask her where she was when JFK was shot, ask her for the parallels of Vietnam and Iraq, I really don’t care about the betterment of your career, I only care about the betterment of my hate.

...You open my door when eating lunch and say, sorry don’t mean to bother you. Uh, yes you do, that’s exactly what you meant to do. You wanted to come in, stick your nose in my food and inquire as to what I am eating, and why I’m not eating with you. Seriously, ask me one more fucking time and I’m going to officially complain instead of blogging you. You’d think I was a 24 yr old woman with a hot body and not a 30 yr old prick that hates you.

...You pre flush at the urinal in the bathroom. AH HA! I caught you Saturn, I know it’s you, you’re so busted. What’s the F’n deal with flushing the urinal before or during your pee? You are responsible for numerous gagging sessions when I go to take a piss and see a little pool yellow at the bottom of the urinal. You’ve got this process all wrong and that’s disturbing. I’m now wondering if you wipe before you poop and I’m wondering if I hate before I blog you.

...You incessantly ramble on about how things were done at your old job. One time at band camp, one time at band camp, one time at band camp, one time at band camp. Hey Dorothy, you’re not in band camp anymore, now shut the fuck up. This is a new job and no one cares how “they” did things at your last company. You ever think they did things wrong over there at the Saturn factory? You ever think that was a difference business and has absolutely zero relevance to what you do now? Ever think I’d hate you so much?

The Global War On Hate

2007-03-20T15:01:00.000-04:00

...You are my boss and tell me that you do not like the way I sit in my chair and must stop. Is this fucking legal? Is my posture indicative of the work I perform? I really don’t think that has anything to do with my performance, but it has everything to do with my hate.

...You are my boss, see me working and make the comment, oh you do do work. Oh I actually work huh? I guess showing up everyday to listen to your paranoia isn’t enough of a job in itself? And what about my work, the work I do then you tell me not to do because that might actually be a good thing for the company at which point you think your boss will ask, well if it’s so good for the company, why didn’t we do this before? If it’s so good for the blog, why didn’t we hate you before?

...You are my boss and come to my office to tell me to come to your office (don’t even bother with that) and see that I am eating a yogurt. As I proceed to finish the last spoonful of yogurt, you stand there in utter amazement that I would actually rather eat that last bit of food than to come running to your office about your next paranoid scheme and my next heart felt hate.

...You are my boss that decides to have a “conference” and I use that term lightly, plans the even and schedules the event without anyone’s input, namely mine, then hands out a schedule that happens to have me giving a presentation the next day. Were you planning on telling me that one lady? I know you would love nothing more than for me to fail, but little did you know, I make presentations for fun, I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast, I actually do eat pieces of shit for breakfast and I hate you for lunch.

...You are my boss that comes to my office every day and says, you better not be interviewing or I’ll kill you. hmmm, let’s see what’s wrong with that statement shall we? I better not be interviewing, ok, so pay my ass. I’m even saying you should pay me what I’m worth, I’m saying take that 2 million you made last year, now cut in half, now you give it to me for the pain and suffering, then maybe, just maybe would I consider staying through the end of the year. Take the second half of that statement, or you will kill me, what if I leave, which is what you really want, you will murder me, perhaps you are confusing that with me hating you.

...You are my boss that runs the office like the bush administration. I’m only allowed to tell you good news. If there is a mistake, I have to find a way to prove that it wasn’t your fault, then pin in it on the most junior person, then fire him. I can’t have any independent thought in any way, shape or form, if we don’t already do it, we can’t change now. Money? Ha, you’re going to pay the dumbest people the most money so they will never challenge you, never have ambition, never expose that you know nothing and always expose that I hate you.

...You are my boss that yelled at me for receiving a cell phone call after 5:30. You know it’s after business hours, I don’t mind being here to get my job done, well yes I do, but if someone calls, I’m going to answer the phone and no I’m not telling people that they call my office phone so that you can pull my phone records to see that I was using a company line to make personal calls. Try checking my internet usage records, then you can see that I hate you.

...You are one of the espionage bobblehead yesmen my boss sends around the office to check the status of my whereabouts. YES I’m in my fucking office and YES I’m fucking working, if you call writing about hating you working. I know you are checking on me to please the insane one in the corner office because you suck and you are not marketable and you are hate.

Stuck in the middle with hate

2007-03-09T15:30:00.000-05:00

...You are looking for something, it is not in the very first place you look and you then proclaim that you have lost the item for which you were looking. Then after looking for an additional 6 seconds you find it. Hmmm, where are my keys, let me check this here table, oh not there, damn you I lost them, there’s no need to continue looking, I check the first place that popped into my brain there’s not a chance my keys could be in the bedroom, the kitchen, a coat, on the computer table or anywhere else, there is only a very good chance that might hate could be for you.

...You are on a plane and get caught by the bathroom bug. This is when the pilot says we will begin our descent in 30 minutes and be on the ground in 40. Ok this gives you half an hour to take a piss, BUT this is when half the plane feels they need to rush to wait in line for the bathroom even though there are people lined down the aisle so that those waiting put their crotches in peoples faces while they put hate on you.

...You are flying on a plane and need to stand up from your seat, but in order for to stand up, you need to molest the seat in front of you. A sign you know you shouldn’t leave this house is when you can bring yourself to physically stand up from the sitting position. Let me see how much I can possibly annoy the person sitting front of me before he turns around to hate me.

...You are walking down the aisle of an airplane and touch every single seat as you walk by. When you walk on a sidewalk, do you use a cane? Oh wait I forgot, you don’t walk anywhere, you drive your car three houses down the street because exerting that much energy would be normal and conducive to you losing some of that fat ass that you lug around all day. Try skipping the free bag of pretzels this flight, try skipping the complimentary beverage and try skipping my hate.

...You are the pilot of an airplane and yell through the intercom no less than 7 times a minute on a 6 hour flight that everyone needs to buckle their seatbelts. I swear this guy had cameras throughout the plane or some type of alarm sensor that when ever someone stands they get the ‘DING’ Ladies and Gentlemen, I have the fasten seatbelt sign illuminated for a reason, the reason being that I want you to stay in your seats, I am the pilot, I know what’s best. So when did Bush start flying planes? I guess this guy is also the decider, he decides when I can stand, when I can pee, when I can lay down across the seats, but only I can decide when I hate.

...You put me on speaker phone. If you don’t have other people in the room you are not allowed to use the speaker phone option this is rule No. 439 of the ihateyouif rulebook. This is clearly speaker abuse and you should be fined. Have you ever listened to yourself on speaker? You sound like you are chewing a bag of marbles. If you are on speaker phone, you also don’t have to talk any louder and you don’t have to stick your face into the phone to be heard, kind of defeats the whole purpose, but it doesn’t defeat my hate.

...You are finishing up at a urinal in the rest room and I am just making my initial approach to the other, you then strike up a convo as though we are going to be spending the next 10 minutes together. There’s so much wrong with this situation I don’t think I even care to relive such an experience. Let’s get this straight, rest room pleasantries are limited to the following, Verbal: what’s up, hey, how’s it going. Non Verbal: head nod and stiff lower lip half smile or the all too famous HATE.

...You ask if I’m ready for the weekend. Nope not quite ready, thought I’d pull an all nighter here on Friday. I’ll never quite be ready for that weekend, I mean not working for two days, how will I ever get ready for that, damn I wish they made us work right through the weekend, weekend? HA! That word means nothing to me and my hate means everything to you.

...You say you haven't had a vacation in two years when I tell you I just got back from vaca. Oh poor you, don’t cry for me, my life is sooooo haaarrrd, wah wah boo hoo. Shut the fuck up you little bitch. No one is telling you not to take time off, I can’t help it if you’re such a loser that you either have no friends to go with or you are too pussy to ask your boss for time off. I have the most ridiculous boss with the most ridiculous standards and even I take vacations and even I give you hate.

To everything, hate, hate hate

2007-03-05T17:41:00.000-05:00

...You blow dry your balls at the gym. Humble defined reads: “Marked by meekness or modesty in behavior, attitude, or spirit; not arrogant or prideful.” This word is apparently not in your vocabulary along with words such as manners, decency, courtesy, shame and propriety. There is however one word that comes directly to mind when I, or anyone else for the matter, see you and that of course is hate.

...You try to bro down with a black guy at work everytime you walk past his cube. Is this your way of “keepin it real”? I’m not sure you really understand, middle aged white guy from the burbs doesn’t speak like a rapper, in fact black guy in an office doesn’t speak like a rapper. What I believe you also fail to understand is that you attempt to speak “street” to a guy that is Haitian doesn’t make any sense, it only makes hate.

...You come into my office when the door is closed, say nothing, then leave without closing the door behind you. Maybe you didn’t notice, but my door is closed, that means I’m in my office surfing the internet, picking my nose and farting, now beat it. Oh you remember how you disturbed me by opening a closed door? Well let’s not return the tank on empty, close the door behind you or I’ll return the tank with hate.

...You are the one and only twenty something white male working in an Asian massage parlor and when I go to get a foot massage, it’s from you. Since when is the ancient art of Chinese reflexology performed by some 24 year old white kid? And since when, among a room full of Asian women, do you choose to assign the one white male “masseuse” to the one white male patron? It’s not even that I have an issue with a man doing this, I treat it as an athletic trainer (I was skiing after all), but at least have the guy be Asian and at least have the guy be hated.

...You believe acting is difficult. Oh please can I have the arduous job of playing make believe for a couple days a year? That would be such a tough life, those 15 hour days you have to work must be just awful, especially when half the time is spent in your trailer studying the 4 lines your stupid ass can’t remember. I think the world has been shown that acting is a talentless profession when an American Idol contestant wins an oscar. Well Academy, you’ve just shown the world that your entire life has been a joke and a waste and your entire award process is pointless and hated.

...You have an aisle seat on an airplane and arrive first for the row. The individual with the window seat boards the plane and goes to take his or her seat. Aisle seat patron (we’ll call him douchebag for arguments sake), feels the only way to allow window seat, and middle seat patrons to sit would be to give the half move my knees to the side effort. So you are about 6 foot 3 250, your knees touch the top of the seat in front of you and you can’t take 5 seconds to stand up so someone can get by? Out of all the things in life, it is this that you have deemed to be just too much? Out of all the ill-mannered things you could do in life, it is this for which you choose to be hated?

...You comment on my blog that some people of lower economic classes can’t afford an ipod, let alone a computer because I’ve chosen to make fun of the guy at the gym using a discman. Oh Nate, Nate, Nate…so many holes in this argument, where do I begin. How about the obvious? It’s a stupid blog making fun of the world, not some political, class warfare, social commentary, ever see someone driving Pinto or wearing Reebok pumps? Yeah they deserve to be laughed at. Second, your biggest error, it’s a membership gym, it costs maybe 100 bucks a month, I wouldn’t know because I can’t be bothered to read my credit card statements, but you see, if you can afford to pay $100 a month, well my friend, you can afford at least a basic MP3. Finally, just to end this banter, since when has 50 bucks become living the life of high society? I think they even give shuffles away for free just like I give hate away for free.

I remember when; I remember when I lost my hate

2007-02-21T17:02:00.000-05:00

...You purposely miss a senate vote on a pointless non binding resolution because you are running for president and are afraid to take a stance. You could be the suckiest sucker that ever sucked. Having a fucking backbone and take a position, but no you won’t, because you don’t have an opinion, you just say whatever people want to hear and the less of a record you have, the more hate for you I have.

...You are in a book store and set up camp to read a book on the floor. I love book stores, places you can go to browse the shelves, make yourself comfortable to read, do some research, oh wait, I have this confused with a library. When did it become acceptable to use a product as long as you are in the store? I’m going to start using toilet paper (scratch that, wet wipes), toothbrushes, razors, sneakers, and every other product I can imagine in the store without paying for it so then when I’m done, I can simply place the partially used product back on the shelf so some idiot can then buy it. Libraries, flea markets and hobo stands on the street are okay for this, bookstores are okay for hating you.

...You are using a discman. Wow, you’re really up on the cutting edge of technology aren’t you, maybe you can get the tape deck car adapter so you can listen to your cd’s in your ride. I have this new band you should check out when your running on that treadmill, they’re called Pearl Jam. Hey are you going to vote for Ross Perot next year? Can you believe Cheers got cancelled? At least there is this new show called Seinfeld, it’s pretty funny. Hey check the date on your swatch watch, have some self respect and have some hate.

...You are waiting to use a dryer in the laundry room, see that my clothes just finished then proceed to empty them into a basket. You know, I’m actually fine with this, but when you are taking my freshly clean clothes out of the dryer, can you at least keep my underwear from falling on the floor? How about when I show up and catch you emptying my clothes and say that’s mine, I’ll take care of it because you are throwing them on the floor, can you at least stop emptying my clothes? Maybe you can take a lesson from the nice person that folded my clothes in the other dryer or maybe I can just hate you.

...You make a comment in response to what someone said about 5 minutes after the person spoke. This is thinking before you speak taken too far. I’m sure if you are playing some kind of internal silence game to see who can not speak the longest, you or you. I really don’t want to think that it took you 5 minutes to answer “yeah” to the even more baffling question of “hot enough for ya”? oh yeah, you think of that yourself or did you hear it 37,000 times before, wonder what the fuck that means then decided to just give in and get hated.

...You call anything “extreme” or “Xtreme”. I’m sorry, but in no way can a snack chip be XTREEEEEMMMMMMEEEE. This is glutenous overuse of a bad slang word. Just because you slap the word extreme on a product, it doesn’t mean you automatically “connect” with a younger generation. You might as well have a car commercial with a group of yuppie late twenty somethings driving a mid size SUV to some sort of outdoor recreational activity with post grunge music playing and a tag line of “you work hard and you play harder”, can you please be more trite? How about this, I barely work, but I strongly hate.

...You meet me and a friend, then proceed to ask her ethnicity, ask if she speaks another language, what she does, where she lives, where she went to college and then look at me and give a half ass smile, then proceed to go about your business. Um, hi, I’m here too, I have an ethnicity, I have a job, I live somewhere, I went to college, I’m a person too goddammit. Ok, I really don’t want to have this conversation with you, I really don’t want you to have this conversation with my lady friend and I really want to hate you.

Gonna dress you up in my hate

2007-02-07T13:41:00.000-05:00

...You say you gave it 110%. I would love for you to tell me how one would give more than 100%, I’m pretty familiar with the laws of physics and am pretty sure I am capable of rational thought, so this 110% confuses me. I know if something is complete, I’ll have 100%, that means the most that is physically possible, now, you are claiming to give (or request) more than is physically possible? Ok, I get your point, it’s exaggeration, it’s reminiscent of 70’s TV movie about a basketball team from the ghetto that against all odds managed to win states by giving 110% and giving hate to you.

...You ask me where I went to college or where I am from and then ask if I know John. Oh yeah out of 30,000 people I know this “John” what are the chances? Maybe 110%? Or maybe to be more in tune with your logic, the chances are negative 10%. How about we stop this charade and you admit that you have no personality and nothing to say, then I’ll just admit that I hate you.

...You serve coffee so hot that when it starts to leak out of your shit cup it singes my hand. Why did the golden arches get sued? Because they served fucking ridiculously hot coffee that actually causes 3rd degree burns, are you actually going to drink coffee that would put you in a hospital? Just fucking once I’d like to buy a coffee and be able to actually drink it right away without having to wait the obligatory 20 minute cooling off period and the obligatory hating period.

...You are guilty of blatant misuse of the urgent button on email. Let’s give an example of something urgent: Your house is on fire. That’s urgent. Now an email for which you have used the urgent button: Check out this picture of my cat looking cute. While extreme cases, you get the idea and you get the hate.

...You are under the impression that in order to give a good massage you must inflict some sort pain upon the recipient. I don’t know what kind of expert training you received, but bringing someone to the brink of tears is not my idea of relaxing. I don’t see why I’m sore after getting a massage, I don’t see why I need a massage to relax me from the massage I just had and I don’t see why I need to hate after getting a message.

...You are giving me a message and gossip with your cohort the whole time just laughing it up. So you think it’s funny that the round eye is a little hairy? I’m sorry, it’s au naturale you must understand that? My people come from colder climates, we have body hair, I’m not ashamed, I just get waxed, naired and lasered off on a virtual daily basis, much like me hating you on a daily basis.

...You need to “squeeze” by someone at a bar, let’s just say my girlfriend for arguments sake, and feel the need to put your busy hands on her back or her waist then stick your crotch out to try and rub up against her because that’s the closest thing you will get any action tonight, unless you count me hating you.

The first hate is the deepest

2007-02-01T16:14:00.000-05:00

...You are giving me change at a cash register and count out the money, but don’t actually count the money. Is this some sort of display to say hey, I know how to move money from one hand to the other, but what I can’t do is count. You see what you are supposed to be doing there is give me the coinage, add that to the price of the products I purchased, then count until you get to my hate.

...You came up with the name piggly wiggly for a supermarket. Of all the names and words that exist on this planet, you go and pick two made up words that sounds like some sort mud wrestling arena. Even worse, the stupid southern folk seem to shop there without thinking it’s a little ridiculous. Stop & shop, shoprite, these portray the image of standard food shopping, piggly wiggly portrays the image of hate.

...You ask me to lunch everyday and everyday I blow you off, yet you still ask me everyday. When I made plans with you the first 7,000 times and didn’t go, you should have gotten the hint. It’s as though you get off on disappointment. I don’t understand why you are so intent on having lunch with me in the first place, I’m mean to you, I’m rude to you and I hate you.

You call me to see if the person in the office next to me is in today, meanwhile you sit on the other side of me. It’s 11 AM you have walked by my office with your tie over the shoulder in preparation for the restroom at least 6 times already. While walking by my office, you can clearly see if my neighbor is in today just by looking up, but instead, you feel it is easier and more appropriate to just give a ringy dingy to ask me. When I don’t answer the phone, you leave a message with my secretary (who sits right outside my office) telling me to call you back. I call you back and you ask if so and so is in today. So you couldn’t walk 20 feet down the hall to see for yourself, you couldn’t look up on your way to bathroom, you couldn’t ask the secretary who has a clear view, you couldn’t fucking call the person yourself, but you could be hated.

You wait until someone flushes to let your dump out. I’m on to you compadre. I know your little game. You wait until someone else makes a flush then the fireworks begin. Face it, you’re a sloppy pooper and don’t deserve the privilege of pooping outside the home. In the rules of BMs, the participant is granted one courtesy flush during the initial evacuation or immediately thereafter. If the participant requires multiple flushes, he must return to his home quarters for proper evacuation and proper hate.

You are waiting to use the treadmill, a specific treadmill out of 30 even though others are open. While waiting you are doing 6 foot sprints as warm-ups in the little space right behind the treadmills. You actually get into a Carl Lewis stance all prepared for a 100m dash. You jump up as if to run, then stop half a second later because you only have 6 feet of room. After waiting for 15 minutes for that one particular treadmill, you get on the thing, run for 18 minutes at a snails pace, get off, leave the gym, call it a workout and call it a hate.

You are yet another person running for president. How many freaking people are going to enter this race? Every senator for some reason thinks the country cares about what they have to say. Face it, unless you are a white man that speaks with a southern accent, you can’t win. People in Iowa and NH pick our presidents, two of the whitest least diverse states in the union, hasn’t anyone figured that out yet? Farmers pick our presidents and we wonder why the current one is a cowboy and we wonder why we hate.

You are Sean Penn. You must be manic depressive. Can you play any role other than some chain smoking depressed guy that’s about die or whose wife just left him or died? Please stop and you pretentious fuckers that give good reviews to actors just because they play a depressed person need to cut that shit out. How about saying a non pretentious comedy is actually funny and actually worthy of recognition? It’s a lot harder to make people laugh than depressed, but it’s a lot easier to hate.

I am Man; Hear me Hate

2007-01-25T12:03:00.000-05:00

...You are a manny. Grown men do not belong caring for young children. I don’t care how much you love children or how caring you might be or anything, there is always that sneeking suspicion that you're going to end up on dateline. There’s a certain creep element involved here and there is a certain hate element involved.

...You are manorexic. I’ll admit, I had a bout with the manorexia for about a week, but then I came to my senses. As a huMAN you need to eat, you need to maintain a certain level mass, so as to avoid looking sick. The atrophied muscle look is sooooooo 2 years ago while the hated look is sooooo you.

...You wear a man fur. There are only two men in modern times that can pull off the man fur: Don King and Joe Namath. Anyone else should be shot on site as you are easily mistaken for wild game, the most dangerous game. The next time I see an alleged man in a full length mink with a man tan and man jewelry, I’m going to point, snicker and hate.

...You wear Manery. Street name: Man Jewelry. You know who you are, you are still wearing the double hoop earrings, perhaps the diamond stud has supplanted one of those hoops. You don a gaudy chain necklace with some sort of charm at the end, perhaps a skull or pirate paraphernalia taking your cue from Captain Jack. You have as many rings as you do fingers, all to along with your oversized belt buckle and my oversized hate.

...You use a man purse. No it’s not fashionable and it’s not even “metro”, it’s simply feminine. Men are not granted to wear a purse. I have to caveat, that gay or straight it doesn’t matter. As a man you required to carry each item separately, which explains the recent popularity of the blazer look. You carry your phone, your ipod, your smokes, your keys, your cash, your cards, your Listerine breath strips and my hate.

...You are a murse. Sure a man can be a nurse, just like a man can be a dancer and an interior decorator and a hair “stylist” and a construction worker. Hey listen, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with being a male nurse, some of my best friends are male nurses, my father’s a murse, but seriously it’s good for a chuckle and it’s good for a hate.

...You have a man period. Every 28 days your auntie flo comes to visit you right? You don’t like your aunt flo, she makes you irritable and emotional, she makes you want binge on chocolate and watch pretty woman. Wait, for a second there I got a little confused, I thought I was referencing a woman, but instead an over emo, gender confused, I have nothing better to do, hated man.

Birds of a Feather Hate Together

2007-01-23T17:40:00.000-05:00

You walk by my office 37 times a day and say hi every single time. The first hello, is sufficient for the entire day, I prefer that be sufficient for an entire lifetime, but understanding the social norms, once a day is acceptable. Every agonizing minute that I’m at work? Well my friend we don't take to your kind round these parts, we hate your kind round these parts.

You are waiting for an elevator but haven’t pushed the button. Yes I too try to find ways to waste time at work, however I prefer to actually leave the building or do some constructive blogging. You for whatever reason find enjoyment and fulfillment in eternal waiting, you’ve created your man made purgatory waiting to enter the pearly gates of hate.

You think the movie Dreamgirls is an oscar worthy movie. Since when did the CBS Movie of the week become award winning? I think I remember this the first 17 times I saw this when it was called, The Jacksons, Ray, The Buddy Holly story, Walk the Line, La Bamba, Selena, Little Douce Coupe: The Brian Wilson Story, etc, etc. Do people really enjoy this? I mean I like Seinfeld re-runs as much as the next guy but eventually I get tired of it and eventually I hate it.

You ask me if I think you are fat. Oh god, here it comes, if I say no, you either think, great he hasn’t noticed, now I can binge for another month at which point you’re tipping your all time max or you think I’m lying and then start wonder what else I’m lying about and then inquisition begins. If I say yes, enter the tears. There is no way for a man to answer this question, honest or not so please stop asking and maybe then I can stop hating.

You tell me you’ve been looking for a rich, non-hairy, oil heir to sweep you off your feet and take you away, but instead you found me. Uh thanks? Let’s think about this, I’m not rich, I’m hairy and I stand to inherit nothing but debt. At least we can see that this relationship is off to a great start and it sounds like a match made in hate.

You push the up elevator button then stand in front of it so that no one can hit the down button. I know you see that there are 6 elevators and I know you know you’re not the only person in existence, so what makes you think no one else should have the privilege of leaving this floor? Just stand right there, I’ll wait until your elevator comes, I’ve got no where to be other than right here hating you.

You place your coat on the bar stool next to me when there are already about 9 other coats about to topple over. Now that I’m the one next to the stool, I’ve been by default elected coat czar to make sure no one’s coat falls to the floor. This is a tall order for a drunken whiskey drinker, one can’t expect me to referee the bar stool coat jenga game taking place right before my hate.

Absence makes the hate grow fonder

2007-01-18T15:18:00.000-05:00

...You write “please advise” in a personal email. Hey what are you doing tonight, please advise. What a way to take a personal email to a friend and corporatize it the point that I vomit. Have you become so jaded by the man that you can’t differentiate? Is your company literally reading every email so now you have to pretend that even personal emails are “work related”? Please advise, and please hate.

...You are the makers of my boxer shorts and make the button on the fly so frail that it never stays buttoned, now I just move and the pup is dangling free in my pants thereby negating the point of underwear altogether. A strong wind and there is my prize for all to see, thanks Tommy. Changing in the locker room means I’ve now become the 80 year old pantsless wonder and it means the hater has become the hated.

...You say you want to learn another language and then state that you really need to get back into studying pig latin. Now when I hear someone say they want to learn a new language I immediately think Spanish, French, Japanese, Mandarin, but you’ve brought this to a new level. I’m sorry to break the news but pig latin is not derived from actual latin or from anything at all. A couple more shockers, no santa, no easter bunny, no toothfairy. I also hate to break the news to you, but I atehay ouyay.

...You are JT. That’s right Timberlake, I mean you. You break up with Cameron Diaz only to find one of the few hotter women in Scarlett. This is utter bullshit. There are millions of starving men sitting home and you go and have yourself a pussyopoly, not cool. Spread the wealth and I’ll stop spreading the hate.

...You let off a grunt and then a massive sigh of relief while visiting your local office bathroom stall. No shame huh? You’ve just given up on life. You may as well show up to work in man juicy and we forget about converting you to baby wipes, you’re a quick once over wipe pull the draw string juicy pants and your on your way, not even bothering to wash the hands, but still bothering to get hated.

...You call me on the phone for a discussion yet you sit in the office right next to me. I know that walk over is just too much, strenuous activity such as walking next door or speaking slightly louder than normal is just too much, you might after all burn an extra 10 calories for the day and we can’t have that, but we can have hate.

...You are a newscaster and have that omnipresent pen in your hand. You hold that pen as though you are diligently taking notes and actually asking a follow up question instead of accepting answers like, stay the course. Your new name is Bob Dole and that’s not meant to be a compliment. Carrying around a pen does not make you looks more intelligent or more serious, it just makes you look hated.

I'm gonna keep on hating you

2007-01-16T17:29:00.000-05:00

You are older than me and feel you need impart your “wisdom” on any and all conversations. Just because you have about 25 years one me doesn’t mean you know anything at all. You sit in your world and talk about how great life was 30 years ago and how much it sucks now, I’ll sit here in my world an realize that things change and that you are hated.

You work at starbucks and announce the drinks as you are making them. Nevermind your narration, you see this line of 13 people? Yeah they wants thems some coffee they don’t want a performance. I realize you have that audition this afternoon, but face it, you’re not getting the part, your screenplay sucks, I need my coffee now and I hate you now.

You bring out the order to me at a restaurant, I point it out to you, then you get pissed at me because you are the one that sucks. See here, you made the mistake, you wrote down the thing, which is only half the battle, you need to finish, you need actually be able to read it back to the chef. I don’t even care that you messed it up, it happens, but then to get pissed at me for your error, well missy, that gets you hated.

You use a handkerchief. You don’t just use it, but you use it, then place it back in your pocket to be used again in the not too distant future prior to washing it. You blow your nose into a cloth that now sticks together, is mushy and is soaking wet. Then when I sneeze or have a stuffy nose you offer me your handkerchief. There are few things that are less sanitary and there are few things that are less hated.

You have your pet’s name on your answering machine. Awwwweeee how adorable, little buttercup can’t come to the phone either. You either think it’s so cute that the crazy people don’t differentiate species when leaving messages in spoken language or you think it’s cute because you are imaging buttercup’s little paws trying to answer the phone. Whatever your imagination and how ever you view this as cute, you are still hated by me.

You are the person that decided on sheet of toilet paper would be 3 inches by 3 inches. Is anyone really wiping with just one sheet at a time? You may as well just use your hand. They all know we need to wad (or fold if that’s you) and this takes at least 24 sheets to avoid the poopy hands. Forget the sheets, you only need one wet wipe, and you only need one hate.

Under the cherry hate

2007-01-11T15:30:00.000-05:00

…You schedule a meeting between 12 and 1 in the afternoon. Lunch? No I don’t need to eat, who needs that. My life is apparently at your disposal and thank you for considering my dietary needs because I’m still jittery from all the caffeine I had to ingest just to make it through the meeting at 7:30 this morning, a meeting that consisted of nothing other than your senseless dribble and my meaningful hate.

…You proclaim a corporate catch phrase of work life balance when in fact you view work and life as opposing values. Balance to you means waiting until 5:30 to come to my office to have a discussion about something that is so basic and simple that my 2 year old nephew understands yet you can’t grasp after 17 after hour meetings. Balance to you means calling meetings at 7 in the morning so that I have to wake up before the sun comes up because you like to punish everyone for your insomnia. Balance to me means hating you.

…You act as a peeping Tom outside my office when I’m clearly on the phone. You see this black plastic device attached to my ear? That’s called a telephone. Do you see how I am speaking into it? That means I’m having a conversation. You see how you are standing at my door starring at me as though your presence will prompt me to end my call which happens to just be me on hold with a call center? That’s me hating you.

…You are providing the unsolicited audio version of your autobiography and use the phrase, “in my prior life”. So you are that small percent of intelligent species that believe in reincarnation or you are just coo coo, coo coo. We understand, you had a job before this one, most people have, and we get it, you think you are old because you are 35. Stop fucking reminding us so I can stop fucking hating you.

…You ask a question every single time a person holding a meeting asks if there are any questions. I understand, you feel neglected, you want to hear yourself talk and stand out a bit from the rest of tardoville, but simply repeating what the speaker said will not get you brownie points, your nose may be dipped in chocolate but you will certainly be dipped in hate.

…You are stressing the importance of something and use the word really. This reminds me of those 500 word essays I had to write when I was like 10 and to actually count out each word when approaching 488 words, there suddenly was a drastic uptick in the adverbs, very and really. Now at almost 30 when someone says something is really this with a heavy heavy accent on the first syllable as if to read, REEEEEEEEEEEEally, I know you are full of hot air just as I know you are full of my hate.

…You cut off the person running a meeting just about at the point when everyone knows the point of the statement so that you can be the one that makes the statement to look like you actually have a purpose of existing. I’m not sure who’s to be more hated here, the person interrupting or the person speaking that actually says, well Heather that’s a great point I’m glad you mentioned it. How about calling “heather” out to say, well heather, I was in the middle of making that very same point until you so rudely cut me off to try and show off to your colleagues on how hated you are.

See no evil, hear no hate

2007-01-09T16:53:00.000-05:00

...You come into my office and just sit there. Yes, may I help you? Do you have something to say, for us to work on or anything of any value to me? Nay, I think not. Please be cognizant of the fact that I am extremely busy here, extremely busy working on how much I hate you.

...You just hang up the phone when you’ve said what you are going to say rather than saying “thanks” or “bye” or “speak to you later”. You in that much of a rush that you can’t utter the unimportant common courtesy that us in the real world say to each other? I don’t even really care or even like you, it’s a simple thing civilized people say out of respect for the other person on the phone indicating that the conversation is over. You on the other hand are not civilized, you are hated.

...You have your initials monogrammed on your shirt. Hey, it’s Thornton J. Wilcott III, TJW for short. It’s imperative that we all know your initials, after all, how else would we know you are a wasp? I know, I know, you are a mr. big time stock trader man with your big time money job, so let the what other way is there to let the world know you are rich, you are respected and that you are hated?

...You wear a class ring. Wow, that’s impressive, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen an alum from Eastern Appalachia State University, you must be proud. What’s that? Oh it only took you 9 years to finish, pretty good there Einstein, I am proud and you are hated.

...You walk by my office and see my diligently working at my computer hate blogging, and give me a the stare down. Yes I am in my office typing away being productive, what are you doing? Yep, you’re roaming the halls, tell me who is more productive? I know when you come by at 5:45 to see if I’m still here and only find an empty, locked office you get a feeling of emptiness inside but that quickly subsides when you run and tell the boss that you are hated.

...You call a meeting and expect me to run it. You called the meeting, I show up, yet I’m expected to start the meeting, give a presentation, analysis, a plan of action and finally adjourn the meeting. Perhaps I’m a little confused but I thought when you call a meeting you are to speak first? Do you call people on the phone and sit in silence waiting for the other person to do the talking even though it was you that called? I don’t think so. Do I log on to my computer to hate you? I think so.

...You think we are best friends because I held an elevator door for you. Your impression of this experience is akin to that of pledging a fraternity, we’re now brothers, elevator brothers, we’ve been through so much together you feel you can just share any story with me so we can have ourselves a good chuckle on the ride to the second floor. Listen buddy, all I did was accidentally hit the door open button rather than the door close button when I saw you approach. I’m not at all interested in hearing your war stories of people running for elevator doors, I’m only interested in hearing about how much I hate you.

Sgt. Pepper’s hated health club band

2007-01-08T12:04:00.000-05:00

…You are a January joiner at the gym. You sit around on your fat lazy ass all year drinking bud heavy every weekend, take out and fast food. You have no concept of a healthy lifestyle except for the first two weeks of January. You use every single cardio machine for no more than 8 minutes at a time because if you stayed on for an actual workout you might work up a sweat at which point I’d have to hate you.

…You feel the incessant need to weigh yourself in the nude in the locker room in plain view. You are wearing nothing but a washcloth that barely covers your crack but you think this will make your break you when you weigh yourself. The extra 2 ounces of weight is not going to throw off the scale and will provide a lifetime of benefit to people like me who now having witnessed your wretched nakedness, have the most horrific images permanently burned into my memory and permanently burned into my hate.

…You walk around the locker room barefoot. I would never let my skin touch the disease ridden floors anyway, but what makes me curious is why you would. It’s obvious to everyone else that it is you spreading fungus throughout the locker room, my entire body feels infested with fungus just from the sight of those feet and I can’t be sure that you are not carrying bed bugs in your gym bag. Do us all the favor and wear something on your feet so I can stop hating you.

…You are changing in the gym locker room and place your bare ass on the bench. It is on the bench right next to your sneakers which somehow deserve a seat, right next to the shoes you wore to the gym, again curiously deserving a seat. Further on down the bench you will find your dirty gym bag and then right next to that, taking up the rest of the bench you will find none other than everything else that was in the gym bag, now placed outside the bag right next to it on the bench. You have somehow managed to take up an entire bench so me and 5 other dudes have put our shoes on standing up or completely bent over at which point someone will walk around the corner and so that his crotch hits my ass and then I hit you with hate.

…You are a perfectly healthy individual at the gym and take the elevator from the first floor to the second. You came to the gym to workout right? Ok just making sure because that whole walking up a flight of stairs might tire you out for the 1 mile you are going crawl in 45 minutes. Why even come to the gym? What kind of laziness drives someone to take an elevator at the gym when they are there to exercise and I’m there to hate.

…You are a January joiner at the gym and don’t understand the simple code of the cardio. There are basic rules any idiot can learn by viewing the process for no more than 37 seconds. There is a line, every treadmill is being used, you approach the line and see that a treadmill frees up, then begin to walk towards it not understanding why 5 people in line are yelling at you. You get on the treadmill, still clueless to the existence of other humans on this planet, you begin to run until you see an angry individual that is about to spit on you, but instead he decides to hate on you.

…You come to the gym after having just sprayed yourself with perfume. Ok, I know there are going to be some steakheads at the gym and that gets you all excited. But the perfume is an unnecessary step that makes me nauseous when I’m trying to run. You are on par with the guy that farts with every stride on the treadmill and you are right on par with my hate.

…You come to the gym and stand right in front of scanner while you search for your ID thereby blocking the 10 people behind you from entering. That’s it, take all the time in the world because you are the center of the universe, the moon and the stars revolve around you, in fact why even work out? Being the center of the universe and all you don’t need to be healthy, you don’t need to be fit, you just need to be hated.

I still haven't found what I'm hating for

2007-01-04T17:26:00.000-05:00

…You are a cook in the cafeteria, a hot girl comes up and asks you for scrambled eggs, the one that are already made. You being the considerate scumbag that you are say: “no honey, those are old, you might get sick, I’ll make you some fresh eggs.” Me being the next in line ask for scrambled eggs, you serve me the readymade eggs that would get the hot girl sick and would get you hated.

…You are driving in a parking lot and just to be cool, you decide to spin your tires and then skid out. Hey everyone, look at the cool guy in the ’87 Chevy peeling out, wow he really got my attention and really showed me what it means to be cool. If only you would do a donut, huh, oh, there you go, the coolness is complete with that donut and my hate is complete with you.

…You are driving a car whose muffler you have purposely made loud. Let’s take a perfectly good and functional car, then crack the muffler or whatever it is you do, to make it sound like a piece of shit. This way whenever you’re driving or peeling out in a parking lot, people can look at you and realize how hated you are.

…You refer to someone as being “bad” because she ate an entire pint of B & J’s or had two slice of cheesecake or gorged on some other decadent dessert. I’m guessing if you refer to this as bad, then you haven’t really seen much in your life have you? You were the kid afraid to go to the back of the bus, the kid that actually went door to door to sell useless crap for the school fundraisers, the kid that reminded the teacher to give homework, the kid that has grown into someone hated by me.

…You go to reach for one those little stir thingy’s for your coffee and touch every single one them before finally taking one. I greatly appreciate the effort you made to cover your sneeze with your hands, but that act was completely negated when you decided to touch every single stir before deciding on the very first one you touched. It’s as though you thought there was one magic stir, one prized stir that contained the golden ticket when all it contained was my hate.

…You are interviewing someone and ask the interviewee, don’t you have any questions for me? Then when the interviewee asks a question, you take this as your moment to test out your autobiography. Hey man I don’t actually care how you got into this business, are you going to pay me or not? Are you going to give me anxiety like my current boss or not? Are you going to give me chest pains or not? Are you going to be hated or not?

…You are a short order cook but don’t seem to understand the concept. This is how it works, when first customer orders, you start the process of cooking, then second customer orders, you start the process cooking, the third customer orders, you start the process, etc. upon completion you hand out each order. This is what actually happens, you take first customer’s order, you then questions their order as if they ordered wrong, you cook something that is maybe 40% of what was ordered, you stand around and wait, whatever it was that you were making is completed, then you have to correct it, then you hand it over to the first customer, then the second customer orders and then I hate you.

…You ask me if my lunch order is to stay or to go when you take my order, I answer to stay while holding my tray. You ask me again, if my lunch order is to stay or to go, while it is being prepared, I answer to stay, while holding my tray and pointing to it. You ask me for a third time if my lunch order is to stay or to go when my food is ready. If you can’t remember a simple fact that I want my food to stay or even notice the 4 ft. by 4ft. tray I’m carrying then there is no other alternative than to hate you.

…You claim that breakfast is served until 10AM. Knowing that I still have 15 minutes to get breakfast, I casually walk in to get me some delicious breakfast treats. Much to my dismay, you have already begun to remove the breakfast food in preparation for lunch. Ahem! Sir, does your sign not say until 10AM? What does the word until mean to you? To me that means that if at 9:55 in the AM, I want to get some oatmeal, well dammit there better be some oatmeal, not today’s soup special for lunch that won’t cut it. You say 10 and I mean 10 or I mean hate.

The Hate is back in town

2006-12-29T12:47:00.000-05:00

…You ask me to bring you something I’ve been working on for you to review and get an update. I diligently drop this by your office. You decide to look at it tomorrow at which point you ask me to bring you what I’ve been working on for you to review. Is this fucking groundhog day? Why is your life so much more important than mine that you can’t bother to keep two pieces of paper on your desk? Perhaps you would like me to bring you something else I’ve been working on for review, it’s called my hate of you.

…You send me a calendar as a Christmas gift. Wow, another calendar, well thank you for such a thoughtful gift, no one has ever sent me a calendar with their company logo before, how personal. It’s times like these that we really cherish our friends and colleagues, I mean to take the time to add my name and address to your company’s holiday gift mailing list, really means more than you could ever know and I hate you more than you could ever know.

…You postpone a meeting with me but wait until I show up at your office to tell me because you are apparently just too important for me. Why even schedule a meeting at all? You tell me you want to meet, I say okay when, you tell me to get on your calendar with your assistant, I say okay, I schedule for 10AM, I show up, you say you are just too busy to make time for 15 minute meeting, I say okay, you tell me to come back at noon, even though I’ll be ravenously starving, I say okay, at noon you tell me you will come by my office when you have time, I say okay, you show up at my office as I’m shutting down my computer at 6, I say I hate you.

…You talk about an old person as though he’s not in the room when in reality he’s sitting right next to you. They may have some of the same requirements as a 2 year old, such as diaper changing and drooling, but the old folks can still hear you and still understand what you are saying. It doesn’t do you any good to spell things out, they’re old, not illiterate. Maybe I’ll start spelling things out so you can’t understand, I-H-A-T-E-Y-O-U.

…You use words like obsequiously. Yeah we get, you went to law school, look at you, you’re so smart with your smarty talk. Well this ain’t the LSAT, this ain’t law school, this ain’t “a motion”, but this is certainly hate.

…You are in a store and need assistance, you see me and ask if I can help you. Do I look like I work here? I guess you didn’t notice when I was standing right next to you and asked the person that actually does work there to check to see if they have something for me? I guess when I first told you that I don’t work there didn’t quite sink in either because you asked me 3 more times. Ok yes, now I do work here and now I hate you here.

…You are a 20 year guy that works in Victoria’s Secret. Why do you know so much about bras? If you were gay, I would maybe understand, but you look like an idiot teen-ager with acne, yet your knowledge of women’s brassieres is remarkable. At what point do you say to yourself, I want to sell bras? Wait a minute, I think you found a loophole in the system and I think you just found a loophole in my hate.

…You are running for a bus when you are about 20 feet from the bus stop and the bus hasn’t even gotten there yet. Did you miss the 10 other people waiting at the stop? You must be afraid it’s just going to keep on going ignoring the route and schedule. I guess the other bus directly behind it wasn’t enough assurance that you would get on one of them, but it was enough assurance that you would get on my hate.

…You claim that the average wait time between trains on the subway is less than 5 minutes. That apparently does not apply to any subway trains I’ve ever taken which seem to require 15 minute waits. The average time isn’t exactly an indicator of realistic waits, for whatever reason 4 trains will come one immediately after another with less than 20 seconds of wait time, then as soon as I get there, 30 minutes go by for the next one. Take the average of the 5 wait times and you get less than 5 minutes and then you get my hate.

Hate is the house; hate is in your mouth

2006-12-12T16:32:00.000-05:00

…You are on the subway towards the middle of the train as people are exiting, you remain where you are until the last person has exited the train, then in that split second before people bum rush for the one open seat, you decide to move right up front to the entrance thereby blocking everyone from getting on the train. It’s a pole position to exit the train at the next stop, not even the current stop. This will then save a total of half of one second, that extra half second could total about 3 extra minutes a year. Think about what you can do with that extra three minutes. How about this? Logon to www.ihateyouif.blogspot.com, read today’s post and see that you are hated

…You have a name that starts with L or M or N. I guess you just don’t really want me to call you do you? I mean that extra 10 seconds it takes me to scroll to find your name is so crucial in determining if I should call you or if I should just simply hate you.

…You dial into a conference call 20 minutes late after a 19 minutes rambling by one of the participants. You then wait until the entire call is over another 20 minutes later, then ask to recap the first half of the call which somehow now takes 25 minutes because we’ve spent the additional 5 minutes hating you.

…You say you want to tag team something. Note how I have said something, not someone. The phrase tag team brings one thing to mind and it has nothing to do with work. Perhaps my mind is so deep in the gutter, but people please, stop using words that represent a dirty, yet elusive, act, then and only then will I stop hating you.

…You are under the age of decrepit old lady and are using a basket with wheels to carry your groceries, your laundry, your purse or even an empty basket. Is it really that difficult to carry two bags? Try functioning like an actual human being and I try hating you.

…You enter the bathroom, wash your hands, then proceed to a stall where you blow your nose. Next you return to the sink to wash your hands, just in case, then return to the very same stall, this time to build your crow’s nest. Your crow’s nest, however, is different than conventional wisdom would have us believe, you crumple paper into little balls, 7 to be exact, you then strategically place them around the seat of the stall, placing 3 paper seat thingys (yes that is the technical term) over the balls of paper as if to create a cushion for your fat ass that hangs over the sides. Once the nest is fully secure, you return to the sink for another wash. After your wash, it’s back to the stall for some dirty work. 45 minutes later, you emerge from stall after having given 3 flushes to ole poop catcher. You wash your hands, dry them, then grab 4 paper towels to act as a hand condom protecting you from my hate as you open the door.

Hate of Endearment

2006-12-05T16:25:00.000-05:00

…You chime in on an email chain that took place 3 days ago. You see, in the real world, everyone is slacking off at work, emailing their friends and responding within seconds to a conversation that’s occurring. But let me set this in terms that you might be able to understand. Say you get a pony express message from a distant friend that lives a whole 10 miles away. Well when the horse and messenger arrive, you immediately read the message and reply while the messenger is there so that 7 days from now, your friend will get the message and then you will get my hate.

…You reset your alarm as soon as you wake up regardless of whether or not it’s a Friday or you’re going away for three weeks or you’re a dirty stay out. Alarms are to be set right before you go to bed, not right when you wake up, there’s a good chance you won’t be there in the morning to turn it off at which point an unsuspecting roommate has to turn it off or a poor innocent neighbor has to hear a beeping sound from 6AM to 9AM at which point that neighbor has to break into your apartment just to hate you.

…You see that I order mozzarella sticks and you say oh that sounds good, but then don’t order them for yourself. I know you are just going sit there while I eat mine and you will drool until I offer you one, then since there are only three we will both sit there staring at the last one, me feeling guilty for eating something you want even though I’m the one that ordered it and you sitting there thinking that you’d really like to have the last one, but don’t want to be rude forgetting that you already are. In the end the waiter ends up taking away the last one while I end up hating you.

…You stand 3 feet away from the urinal while peeing. So you may have a stream that can reach for majority of your urination, but at some point the faucet will run dry and it will taper off to a mere dribble at which point you are now just peeing on the floor and on yourself and on my hate.

…You are at the gym and are apparently wearing the same clothes for well over a month without washing them. The entire treadmill area smells so repugnant, I dry heaved while running 7 times and held my breathe for the last two minutes which still cut my run short. How on earth are you not throwing up from your own smell? I’d rather be a hair on the ass of the nastiest bum in NY on a 100 degree July afternoon than to have to run next to you one second longer without hating you.

…You place your gym bag on the bench at the gym and then place your sneakers right next to them. Please go right ahead your majesty, us peasant folk will sit on the floor to tie our shoes while your stank ass sneakers can in no way be placed on the floor, no, they belong right there on the bench so no one can use it while in the presence of royalty and in the presence of hate.

…You are a credit card company that receives my payment in the form of a check (don’t ask me why I sent a check in the first place), you don’t cash it for over a month, then turn off my charging privileges so I call and state that I will pay online, you say you will return my check to me, then once I’ve paid online you decide to cash the check. When I paid online I should have just accepted the fact that my check would definitely be cashed and if I didn’t pay online I should have accepted that I would definitely hate you.

…You drive a Saturn. Please oh please have some self respect will you? I don’t care if you are not loaded and can’t afford a beamer, but a Saturn? I would rather drive a bicycle with training wheels than a Saturn. And by chance you are enough of a tool to own and drive said Saturn, well then you must never speak of it, you must never tell a story that involves your Saturn, especially to me when other people might be within earshot of your patheticness. You must never admit to driving one when someone asks what kind of car you have and must never forget that you are hated by me.

Standing in line to see the hate tonight

2006-11-30T17:42:00.000-05:00

…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 ionlywatchpreviews.blogspot.com 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.

An Inconvenient Hate

2006-11-17T13:29:00.000-05:00

…You are announced as the new secretary of defense and touted to have an amazing photographic memory, then upon giving your acceptance speech you proceed to take your written speech and read it. If by photographic memory you mean, capable of reading a piece of paper, well then yes of course you have great memory, and so do I and does every other person on the planet because reading is not memory, but hating is you.

…You have a new girlfriend or boyfriend and suddenly you are no where to be found. Oh so when you’re single everyone is your best friend because you have nothing better to do. But now, now you’re suddenly too good for everyone else, you cut yourself off, who needs to be bothered with keeping in touch with friends now. then 3 months go by and your single again, now you call and now you’re hated.

…You see someone in the hall or elevator and tell them you just emailed them. I think they’ll figure that out when they get back to their computer and see that you sent a pointless email that says, I’m going to call you in 10 minutes. Then 10 minutes go by and the person calls you and says, I’m sending you an email about such and such. So now you’ve stopped me in the hall to tell me you emailed me to tell me you are calling me in 10 minutes to tell me you are going to email me and then read the content of the email. You really missed the whole point technological advances, yet something tells me you will not miss the point of my hate.

…You read my blog then steal my ideas and write articles for NY newspapers with all the same ideas. You have to be stealing my ideas, I mean this blog soooo original that no one else could ever possibly think of hating the exact same thing. There’s only 8 million people in this city, realistically what are the odds, not very good I might say. And realistically, what are the odds I hate you? Very good I might say.

…You are a hipster on the L train coming in from the burg and are reading Bukowski, wearing an army green jacket, messed up hair with a two day old beard and have gone 3 days without showering. Could you be any more cliché? Yes actually you can by wearing black chuck taylors. You are no longer creative or original when you look like every other emo 20 something whose life is just so hard and tragic because you over analyze every little detail of your self indulgent life and every little detail of my hate.

…You issue a number for waiting in line at saaaay, the DMV, the number you issue is 763 and you are now serving number 4. Why are you still even open? You are giving a false sense of hope to the 761 Mexicans waiting in line. And why is everyone at the DMV Mexican? I have no problem with Mexicans, but they are disproportionately represented every time I’m there wasting away my youth just to have my picture taken and just to hate you.

…You are waiting for your number to be called at the DMV and you wait until the next number is called to finally go up to the counter. So you’re number 4, they call number 4, you sit, they call number 4, you sit, they call number 4 you sit. Frustrated, they move on, they call number 5, I go to the counter, then you come up and say, I’m number 4 you called number. I’m sorry lady but when they call your number for 5 minutes, and you don’t show up, well your window has passed and my hate has started.

…You are an old lady and smell like moth balls. I think someone stored you in the attic or basement all summer along with a bag of moth balls. I’m wondering if moth balls are still even in existence and where you managed to find such items. Has technology not advanced enough to rid the world of moth balls forever? Have you not advanced enough to rid the world of my hate?

Give me liberty or give me hate

2006-11-07T05:55:00.000-05:00

...You are a volunteer poll worker. You are no younger than 97 and think you know everyone that is there to vote, but then you ask for ID and don't understand alphabetical order, meaning can't check off that a person has voted or that a person has hated.

...You are a "leading" anti-gay activist yet you pay for gay sex and have an alleged meth habit. So let me get this straight (pun intended), you are the founder of one of the largest cults in this country, some christian group, you speak out about the sins of them gays, and you are so conflicted and brainwashed that you can't accept who you are so you get high on one of the drugs you claim to fight then pay men to have sex and somehow manage to look people in the eye and tell them they are hated, just like you.

...You are Joe Lieberman. You fucking little mopey republican. You lost the support of your party, but rather than sticking to your ideals and being a man, you abandon your party to keep your job. I guess we know what really matters to holy Joe, only Joe matters, but now, my hate matters.

...You refuse to make election day a national holiday or have it on the weekend or have rolling polls that end today. Hmmm, what better way to keep poor people from voting, make it a Tuesday, they're too busy tied to their minimum wage jobs working 15 hours a day to make the same thing I make in 10 minutes, it's good to be a white male and it's good to be hated.

...You claim to the party of the moral majority, but somehow, you're the party of closeted gays, corrupt politicians, oil barons, war mongers, and the richest people in the country. You are even more hated if you vote for the theives and don't see through their hypocrisy. You don't even have to know how to read to know these guys are in this for themselves and in this for the hate.

...You refuse to vote for raising the minimum wage but feel absolutely no shame in voting for an increase in your 6 figure salary for passing laws that make you even richer. Can we make being a Congressman a volunteer position? I mean you work about 6 days year to debate gay marriage and baseball, send poor kids to die then I vote to hate you.

...You feel you need to make a case that it is okay to torture people. Then when it comes time to pass a bill on this, you having been tortured yourself, decide you'd rather vote for this knowing that it doesn't work, that it violated the constitution that wipes my ass the so called freedom you are protecting, you'd rather vote for that than lose a couple percentage points on a presidential election 2 years away that you are going to lose because you are now hated.

Her name is Rio and she dances by my hate

2006-11-03T10:30:00.000-05:00

…You are in an ATM vestibule, you see me fumbling through cards to try and open the magic door, yet you refuse to simply open the door for me. Do you think I really don’t have an ATM card and I’m somehow scamming you into opening the door so that once it’s open I’ll what? rob you of the $40 you just took got? Not to mention it’s broad daylight and there 3 other people fumbling through their pockets looking for their cards trying not to hate you.

…You are talking or giving some kind of lecture and get the little white spittle on the sides of your mouth, then you don’t wipe it off. Why are you foaming at the mouth? I don’t know about anyone else, but if I feel even the slightest bit of frothiness I have the common decency to TCB. When you finally do take the half of second to wipe it off, do me, nay, do us ALL a favor and don’t fling across the room leaving the probable chance that it will make direct contact with skin and direct contact with my hate.

…You are a bicycle delivery guy. You only appear the moment I step off the curb into the street as though you emerged out of thin air. You give a warning sign that mimics the sounds of a pleasant bird, but you, you are not pleasant. You are moving at speeds that challenge the sound barrier, yet somehow manage to carry 7 bags in each arm and a pizza box all the while being hated by me.

…You are driving and see that a person is in the crosswalk with a don’t walk sign and then speed up. So let’s get this straight, you are driving along at a normal pace, you see someone 300 feet ahead of you that will easily make it across the street if only you can maintain the same speed, as would be expected. Instead, you have the genius idea to speed up so that the person barely makes it across. Well, you really showed that person. I mean how dare they attempt to “disrespect” you by walking across the street, it’s time you teach them a lesson with attempted murder and my attempted hate.

…You are too good to take the subway and must take cabs everywhere. What’s the matter you can’t go underground for a few minutes and stand next to the “common folk”? One of them might look at you after all and we wouldn’t want that would we, certainly not. Only the privileged are allowed to look at you or be in your presence, but everyone can certainly hate you.

…You honk your horn in standstill traffic. Hmmm, we’re not moving, how can I get everyone to move because my life is so much more important than anyone else’s. I have an idea, I’ve seen this before, it never seems to work, but I think in this case it just might. I’ll lean on my horn so that everyone in a three block radius can hear. Then when I’m done, I’ll honk it some more and then when 5 minutes have passed and we haven’t moved, I’ll get hated.

...You have an alarm for your car. If there is anything more unnecessary or wasteful on this planet, it’s a car alarm. The first thing a car thief does is disable the alarm, it does absolutely nothing. The only time the alarm even goes off is when someone stands within 3 feet of your car, because apparently now you own the space around car, that’s yours because your 1995 Nissan needs to be protected and my hate needs to be given.

Nightmare on Hate Street

2006-10-31T16:26:00.000-05:00

...You are a woman and don't anderstand that your costume must start with the word sexy. You must understand that this is your night, your night to be a little whore, the little whore that you so badly want to be but are just a little afraid on any other day. You are cat? No no no you are a sexy cat. You are a witch? Think again you are a sexy witch. You are a Wearwolf, well now your just hated.

...You are a woman and have no business dressing up as sexy anything yet you still do. Can we please leave this to the girls that are actually sexy? Having a gunt and muffin tops does make sexy, I'm sorry it only makes hate.

...You are 17 and think you can still roam the streets begging for candy. When you are able to get your own job and buy your own candy, you longer have the privelage of going door to door with a stop & shop bag asking me to give you candy, if you do, I will only give you hate.

...You run out of candy and start emptying your cabinets and refridgerator of all the shit you no longer want. A three week old onion does qualify as treat, that's more of a trick in my book and the 7 year old canned peaches is more of a hate in my book.

...You ring my doorbell on Halloween to allegedly ask for candy, yet you are too cool to say trick or treat. Unless you say the magic words, I assume that I hate you.

...You don't wear a costume to a costume party. Maybe you didn't get the memo but costume party means you fucking dress up, you see everyone else that looks likes a retard? It's your turn and it's your hate.

...You dress up in a costume for work when no one else is wearing one and in fact, everyone else is wearing suits because you work in one of the last 3 companies that requires people to wear suits. Yeah this isn't fucking ramparoom here, we're so called adults here. I see Billy, and Susie, and Johnny, and Jenny, and HATE.

How hated are you?

2006-10-25T06:22:00.000-04:00

1. On a down escalator you

A. Walk down the stairs to move along as fast as you can to ensure you to hold up people behind you.
B. Walk down until you get behind someone then give up because you for whatever reason can't rudely say the words excuse me to get by the person in front of you.
C. Step onto the escalator and stand as it carries your lazy ass down a flight a stairs.
D. Take the evelator.

2. When entering a subway you

A. Patiently wait to the side of the doors for people to exit the train and upon the last person to get out, you then allow the cute girl to go ahead of you then proceed to enter.
B. Stand in everyone's way while they try to exit the train, waiting nonetheless, but being a complete nuissance to every person in front of you, then enter the train.
C. Stand to the side of the doors then try to sneak in to race to the only open seat because god forbid you should have to stand.
D. Bum rush the people exiting the train then upon entering the train, stand right by the doors not moving for the people exiting and never moving for the people trying enter.

3. When stopped at a red light you

A. Watch the other side for when it turns yellow and are prepared to hit the gas even before the light actually turns green.
B. Wait patiently for the light to turn green then go.
C. Look everywhere except at the light then when the light turns green and your picking your nose, you take your sweet ass time to finally move thereby keeping at least two cars from making the light.
D. Wait through at least half of the green light before you realize that it's green, then drive at less than 5 miles an hour through the light because the entire world operates and waits for your sole existance.

4. When walking on a sidewalk you

A. Stay to the right hand side mindful of people walking the opposite way you ensure that you leae enough room for people to pass.
B. Walk next to your friend creating a mini wall making it difficult for people to pass.
C. Walk three or people across at a slower pace than people moving backwards, then get annoyed when someone bumps into you.
D. Find as many people as possible, walk next to them at the same pace creating a wall of impassable people then when someone is walking in the opposite direction you refuse to move and watch as the other person stops mid stride so that you bump into them and wonder what the hell this crazy person is doing when in reality it is you that is crazy because you don't understand the concept of a sidewalk where people other than you walk.

5. In a bar you

A. Enjoy the time with your friends, understand the subtlety of getting a bartenders attention, chat it up with the occasional CG, tip well and play good music on the juke.
B. Demand the bartenders attention by making some obnoxious cat call and flashing a $100 bill even though your miller lite is only 6 bucks, think the hot girl wants to talk to you and think you can call fives on a bar stool.
C. Wear your sunglasses
D. Ask me for a cigarette, then ask for another one, then demand another, then think whenever I go for a smoke that you get to have one, then say you are going to get ghetto on my ass when I tell you there is a store across the street that has all the cigarettes you can buy.

6. In the men's room you

A. Use the stalls or urinals on the ends first, do what you need to do, don't speak to anyone, wash your hands when done, throw your paper towel in the trash and then exit.
B. Use the urinal next to me and flush before you're finished peeing thereby leaving a little yellow pool in the urinal for the next person to see and smell.
C. Use the stall next to me when all the others are open, groan and grunt while trying to crap out the fast food you ate for lunch and leave a skid mark in the bowl when done.
D. Use the urinal next to someone, make an inappropriate comment such as, hey there big boy, don't fluch, manage to pee on the floor and leave a 5 inch pubic hair on top of the urinal. You then don't flush and quickly exit the men's room without washing your hands.

7. In the gym you

A. Use the equipment in a non excessive manner, always wear a towel in the locker room and
B. You stay on a treadmill beyond the 30 minute limit during peak hours even though there is a sign right in front of you that says 30 minute time limit during peak hours, not to mention you are walking and talking on your cell phone.
C. You wear a tank top going from weight machine to weight machine where the girls are lifting asking if you can work in then brag about your job as a bouncer.
D. You walk around the locker room naked, then proceed to blow dry your hair, naked, then when getting dressed, you put on your shirt, then socks, then shoes, then your tighty whiteys.

8. In the elevator you

A. See that the button to your floor has already been pushed, think to yourself, hmm this person is going to the same floor as me, then wait patiently moving out of people's way as they enter and exit, then allow the other person to leave first when reaching your floor.
B. Enter the elevator, see that the button to your floor has been pushed, then proceed to push the button 6 more times, accidentally hitting the button to three other floors, then think you are hitting the close doors button but are actually hitting the open doors button and don't understand until someone says something.
C. Enter the elevator don't push any buttons, stand right in the front thereby getting in people's way as they try to exit, ask everytime the elevator stops, is this 28? even though the floor number is lit above the door and as the doors open a huge sign that says the floor number is right in front of you.
D. Enter the elevator, see that there is only one other person standing in the back corner then proceed to stand right next to that person, so close that you are actually touching the other person.

9. On an airplane you

A. Sit quietly in your seat, check your bags and use the rest room only when absolutely necessary because you don't want to bother the very nice, handsome young man sitting in the aisle seat.
B. Carry on a 3 piece matching luggage set that could easily be containing the remains of Andre the giant and three of his clones. You then are baffled why they dont' fit and ask the entire plane to sacrifice their "small personal luggage" space so that you can save 10 minutes when you get off the plane.
C. You request a window seat while knowingly have bladder control issues adn then bother the two people between you and the aisle to get up no less than 13 times during a 2 hour flight.
D. You purchase one seat even though you are the size of three seats, then lift the armrest so that your side fat can expand into the next seat where a normal size individual has purchased the appropriate fare and thought he was going to be able to nap on the flight.

10. At work you

A. Do your job, joke around to break up the day, know the appropriate amount of time to spend in someone's office and don't think the day is a competition of who can work the latest.
B. Enter someone's office, see that they're on the phone, then proceed to start a conversation because for whatever reason you think the world will stop when you speak.
C. Treat the boss' ass as though it were a pacifier. Your lips spend so much time attached to his ass that he has to have three pairs of pants in the office because you get them so wet with the saliva from you kissing it.
D. Use the copier, get a paper jam, then walk away because god forbid you should try to fix it, I mean pulling out a piece of paper is just too much effort and there will always be someone else that comes along to fix it.

Bonus Question: While eating you:

A. Order your food, chew with your mouth closed and enjoy your company.
B. Stick your face into other people's food, to inquire as to what they are eating rather than simply asking.
C. Chew with your mouth open so I can hear every chew and witness first hand the biological process of how humans break down a cheeseburger into stomach bile that is then used for energy.
D. Use your fingers rather than silverware and instead of placing food into your mouth with your hands which is bad enough, you swallow your fingers and occasionally your entire hand so that get the food in your mouth and lick your greasy fingers all at the same time.

Scoring:

For every A give yourself a zero
For every B give yourself one
For every C give yourself two
For every D give yourself four

If you scored a perfect zero you are not hated at all and are lucky enough to remain in my presence.

If you scored between a 1 and 10, I hate you on some occassions, but not so much that I can't talk to you. Every now and then you might use a stall that is right next to someone else even though there are plenty of open stalls, but it's more accidental than intentional. When driving you sometimes drive really slow in the fast lane, but that's mainly because you are engaged in an anti republican debate of some kind.

If you scored between an 11 and 20 you pretty much suck. Every now and then you try to redeem yourself, but deep down, you know you are retarded. You stand on down escalators, you eat on subways and if you are a woman, you don't sit when you pee, you squat and spray pee all over the seat without cleaning it up.

If you scored between a 21 and 35 you have little hope of reversing the damage you've caused to yourself and to others. You've scarred people for life by standing next to someone that is sitting while you are naked, leaving your pup to dangle in people's faces. You stand in the doorways of subways and elevators, you actually take the elevator down one flight even though there is a staircase right in front of you. You not only eat on subways, but you lick your fingers after touching the handles, you've even been seen barefoot on the subway. You purposely drive slow in the fast lane because after all you are driving the speed limit and when some flashes you to move over you scream and curse because you can't understand that going 55 in a 55 is too fucking slow.

If you scored between a 35 and a 40, well congratulations because it's debateable that you can funtion in society. You are a close talker, yet have bad breathe, you eat with your hands and think that picking your nose through a tissue actually covers the fact that you are picking your nose. You voted for Bush because you're not into "issues" and you believe Ann Coulter is anything other than the devil reincarnated. When you throw garbage away, it goes everywhere except the trash can, but then you don't bother to pick it up. Not only do you feel free to roam the locker room naked, but you carry it as a badge of honour and actually prefer the open showers to the private stalls. You walk on sidewalks then stop without any warning, then the 7 other people walking next to you horizontally spread across the sidewalk stop, thereby creating a wall of retards that can only be thwarted by huffing at such a loud decibal that you think everyone else is wrong or rude because you are so hated.

I love the smell of hating you in the morning

2006-10-23T11:36:00.000-04:00

…You respond to the common Monday morning greeting of how was your weekend with, oh I didn’t have a weekend I spent it working. Oh well look at you working all weekend, you must be so proud that you’ve sacrificed your life for a corporation that doesn’t care about you. We all get it, you work so hard, your life is so tragic, not to mention that it just happens to be about the time that raises and bonuses are decided, I’m sure that has nothing to do with you working the weekend then making sure everyone knows about it and I’m sure it has nothing to do with me hating you.

…You leave the newspaper in the bathroom stall as either a signal of your laziness or as a poor attempt of a nice gesture. You are either a typical American and just leave your trash wherever you finish it or you think you were doing us all a favor by providing reading material. I can only speak for myself here, but I am in no way touching a newspaper that you handled while pooping. That paper was far too close to your naked balls and poopy stained hands and even closer to my hate.

…You enter through a door just as someone else is leaving, the other person (let’s just say me for argument’s sake) is the one that physically opens the door, you are the one that is entering on a free ride, yet do not defer to the other person to go first, do say thank you for opening the door, and do not give the required mumbled excuse me, while looking down of course because this is a bathroom after all and this is my hate.

…You are a cell phone salesman. I think the sleezy speaker salesman has now been replaced by the sleezy cell phone salesman. You know exactly who you are, you are eurotrash, typically some eastern European country, you listen to only techno, you double as a promoter for the hot new club, you drive a car you can’t afford, you go through a bottle of cologne a week because you see no use in showering twice a day or once for that matter. When someone asks you about a phone you say oh that’s the best, then the same person asks you about the phone right next to it and you say oh that’s the best, then that very same person asks about the phone right next to that and you say, oh that’s the best, and then the same person asks me about my hate and I say oh that’s you.

…You wear sweatpants to a strip club. I know, I know what’s the point of getting a lap dance while wearing jeans. I think I speak for everyone when I say that you have no business walking around with a hard on bumping it into people and knocking drinks over. While this may be a place where naked women jump up and down on your lap, save the sweatpants and the hard ons for the champagne room and I’ll save my hate for you.

…You exit the elevator in all the excitement of other people exiting the elevator, yet you get off on the wrong floor. I know it’s such an exciting moment when everyone gets out and you want to go along with the crowd. Then you get into the lobby and realize, hmm, this isn’t my floor, this isn’t even my company but it is actually my hate.

I walk through the valley of the shadows of hate

2006-10-17T22:42:00.000-04:00

...You have a mole that has a 2 inch hair growing from it. I don't understand how you can manager to shave your whole face, yet somehow you allow that one hair to grow beyond your chin. You have to notice this, there is no way you stand in front of the mirror and miss this a long hair hanging off your face and miss my hate of your face.

...You see that I have food in my teeth and you don't say anything. Apparently you prefer to look at people with a piece of lettuce on their front tooth and then you like to see them smile so it looks like they have rotten teeth. Better yet, when it's chocolate and the person looks like they've just eaten poop. Better still when it's you and it looks like hate.

...You work at starbucks and ask my name then when my drink is ready you scream my name at the top of your lungs with smile from ear to ear. Why are you so happy to call out people's names? There's only me and one other person here, I think you can lay off the name calling because if you can remember who had the venti ice coffee and who grande triple mocha frappa fat free decaf ice cappicino with a shot of expresso then you need to take my next order of hate.

...You pull your pants up past your belly button. I think back in the early Sinatra days circa 1925 this was popular, then in the early 80's there was a bit of resurgence with revenge of nerds and then the last time it was arguably acceptable was with the Z cavariche's, but in any era, at any time, it's unacceptable. Picture a woman wearing pants pulled up to just below her breasts, then look at her ass, that's right you can't fucking see it, there's back, literally a back that extends from her shoulders all the way down to my hate.

...You make toilet paper so thin that you can only tear off the paper, one sheet at a time. Why do they make these sheets a 2 by 2 square? Is anyone really using just one sheet? Remind me not to shake their hand. One sheet should be about 2 feet long, that way, I'd only have to use 5 at a time. In fact, why are we still using toilet paper at all? Wet wipes my friends, wet wipes. I'm on a mission to convert this world to wet wipes, you get mud on your hands, do you then wipe off your hands with a dry piece of paper? No of course not, and that's just mud. No wonder why we have poopy in our spinach and no wonder why we have my hate in you.

Hatin it up in an Elevator

2006-10-12T16:43:00.000-04:00

…You think that sending some email to the daily news about subways is an adequate way to vent your frustration, but little did you know that subways are only the tip of the iceberg, there is hate to be found in any venue, some come one and come all to the greatest hates volume 2 – The Elevator Years.

…You are waiting to go up in an elevator, the light indicates that an elevator has arrived going in the direction of – up. You then take half a step into the elevator and ask is this going up? No it isn’t, we’ve rewired the entire building’s elevator system so that up means down and down means up, but then sometimes we switch it back, just to keep you on your toes. Is there a place where the elevator arrows just aren’t enough assurance that it’s going in the right direction that you feel compelled to ask before entering and where I am compelled to hate you?

…You approach an elevator bank, you see that the button has been pushed, you then approach and push again because apparently when I pushed the button, it didn’t work, but now that you’re here, we can rest assured knowing that you played an integral role in the elevator’s arrival. What’s worse is when you repeatedly push the button, then the elevator opens seconds later and you give a smug look of accomplishment as though you really did cause the elevator to open earlier than it would have if I was standing there hating you.

…You enter an elevator as soon as the doors open, before those on the elevator have a chance to get off. Who the fuck are you to think you are the only person in existence, do you really think this elevator is your own personal lifting device? Is it really worth the bum rush to get on the elevator before it empties? You know what happens next don’t you? Everyone, myself included, pushes you back out and then hates you.

…You enter an elevator, realize you forgot something, then proceed to announce to everyone that you forgot something and have to go back. You don’t necessarily even say it out loud to everyone, but you say it in a loud whisper, loud enough for everyone else to hear, but soft enough for you to think that you really just talking to yourself. Then you have to overdramatize your disappointment with yourself in how you could possibly forget something. I get it, it happens people forget things then have to go back, wouldn’t you rather keep everyone else guessing as to why this person is going back up when they just got to the lobby? Would you rather not get hated?

…You enter an elevator, ride all the way to the bottom, then don’t get off the elevator. What’s wrong with you? Do you just enjoy riding the elevator up and down? Does this lifting device amaze you that much that you just can’t seem to keep yourself from riding up and down out of fascination for this wonderful invention that’s only 150 years old? Or did you forget something and not do the just loud enough whisper to let everyone else in the elevator know that you forgot something and won’t be getting out and will be getting hated?

…You are in an elevator with your best girlfriend and other people and decide to have a conversation. Not just a barely audible conversation that people have when they are in public, not just a normal decibal conversation that people have all the time, no, you insist on speaking above levels of conversation that would be heard on airplane runways. You shout, and you are standing right next to me with your poopy breathe mouth right next to my face and your poopy looking face right next to my hate.

…You enter an elevator without paying attention to the direction (see up or down) and then realize after three stops that it is going in the opposite direction, you then ask in half question, half statement tone, oh this is going up? No dipshit, it’s going down but the numbers go in reverse order in this building, maybe you didn’t notice, 38, 39, 40, here we are at the lobby and here we are at my hate.

…You step into an elevator and see that I am the only person in it, standing in the back righthand corner, yet you walk in straight to the back and proceed to stand right next to me. So you’re that guy huh? You stand next to people to invade their personal space on purpose, you think it’s funny? Well how about this? Next time you are peeing, I’m going to stand at the urinal next to you and tell you that I like your watch. Then when you are allegedly washing your hands, I’m going to use the same sink as you at the same time. Then when you are leaving the building and about to enter the elevator, I’m going to hate you.

People are hated When you're a hater

2006-10-09T10:26:00.000-04:00

...You are practicing playing your recorder as you wait at a crosswalk. I'm walking home from work, this guy gets to a crosswalk and has to wait, what does he, what else? He pulls out his recorder from his suit jacket and starts jamming and this guy was fantastic. The light changed to WALK, he put the recorder back into his suit jacket and I hated.

...You are walking down the sidewalk wearing a viking hat (the kind with horns) and bright purple viking cape, like the football team viking. So are you a vikings fan? I can't tell, but no matter now much you love the vikings, you should be aware that your level of love for the vikings is not even a fraction of my level of hate for you.

...You are the guy that was walking with our Viking fan friend in regular street clothes as though it is perfectly normal to see a grown man wearing a purple cape and horned hat. How empty must one's life be to go through such lengths to wear this costume to "support" his team at a bar where the players can't see him? How angry and pathetic must I be to talk the time to meticulously hate you.

...You refer to clothing that someone is wearing as "street clothes". What makes clothes street clothes? Anything other than a uniform? I'm confused because you can wear anything on a street, just like you can hate anything on a street.

...You are my father that was driving me to the train and had to leave over an hour before the train was even due to arrive even though the station is only 15 minutes away. While a short drive, you proceed to start driving in the complete opposite direction from where we needed to go because "we had time". We had so much time, that I still managed to barely make the train, and I still managed to hate.

...You have a myspace page and are over the age of 22. Um those 794 friends are in actuality 5 people you know in real life, 5 famous people, 4 people you knew from childhood and 780 stalkers. I'm among the hated here, but only out of a sociology experiment to try and figure out the point of all of this and of course to promote my hate of you.

...You are over the age of 22 and have some quiz on myspace about likes and dislikes and if you ever got fingered and if you ever liked someone from history class and if you ever made out in public and if you have pubic hair and if you are really a 47 year old man in dark sunglasses that parks his car by the entrance to school and if you are really hated by me.

...You have a myspace page and have so much shit on there that the page can never load and eventually freezes your computer at which point you force me to restart and lose the hate I've been writing because I god forbid I should hit save. Come on people, you put a couple pictures up, you make your little background pink and then you get hated.

...You have a myspace page and you have pornstars for "friends". So what are you trying to say here? You enjoy jerking off to these women or do you actually think you're friends? I'm sorry to tell you they are in this to make money, just like that stripper that's extra nice to you, the hot waitress or the hot lesbian bar tender, they're nice to you because they have to be. I've got news for you though, I'm not in it to make money, I'm here to hate you.

Professor Plum, in the billiards room with my HATE

2006-10-03T10:52:00.000-04:00

...You do not understand the need for my suburban survival pack that I must bring whenever my travels bring me up to the burbs. What is this suburban survival pack you ask? Well allow me to elaborate. This pack contains very useful and necessary items such as:

- a baby gift, because everyone in the burbs is having kids, you might as well be prepared.

- a dog leash, because everyone has a dog and sometimes you have to work off the room and board for the weekend by doing chores

- a bottle of bug spray, because people in the burbs love to drink outside in the woods, where every mosquito and tick seems to find me

- a bottle of fine wine because people in the burbs seem to buy a new house every two years so chances are, you'll need a housewarming gift

- a bag of starbucks because they are not on every corner in the burbs, you may actually go 10 minutes without running into one, so you are forced to brew your own

- a list of 5 people from whom you can borrow a car, preferred customer cards from several car rental companies to go on your key chain and as a last resort a jimmy to break into a car because apparently people in the burbs have yet to discover the amazing human ability of WALKING

- a bottle of Xanax, because when you make the journey up the burbs, you kind of feel guilty if you don't stop by to see your parents and the only way to get through that event is to be sedated

- a sweatshirt that is a size too small. In the burbs the proper attire is old faded sweatshirt where the sleeves don't quite make it to your wrist and of course you must have on gap jeans. This is what people wear, I can't explain it, but I can follow the rules

- an update on Women's basketball. No one in the world cares about women's basketball, unless you are in the burbs of CT and you might as well read up on it, because you'll be stuck in several hour long discussions on this very topic

- a direct link to ihateyouif because as it suggests....

Good things come to those who hate

2006-10-02T09:41:00.000-04:00

...You are still writing checks. Let's see how can I make my life more complicated, well I could write checks and have to show two forms of ID, physically write out the check and hold up an entire line of people that have graduated from the school of common sense. I plea, no insist, that there is one line for people still living in 1952 that use cash and checks and let all the other people use cards so they can get on with their life and hate you.

...You have some kind of "discount" or "membership" card and give some a tag that has to go on a key chain. Do you think people enjoy carrying around a rolodex on their key chains? This massive wad is supposed to fit in my pocket? My hate is supposed to fit on this blog?

...You are in a supermarket purchasing three carriages of groceries, you stand there watching the cashier ring up your 30 cans of cat food doing absolutely nothing to move the process along by bagging your own fucking groceries. Nope, you can't possible lift a finger can you? You might burn some of the 18 million calories you just purchased and you might actually avoid my hate.

...You send a wedding invitation and can't simply just put the time, but have to write is some type of pseduo old English. We request your presence at the church at thirty minutes past the hour that is two hours after fourteen hundred hours on the first saturday after the first full moon after the twenty first of the month May in the two thousand and sixth year after the birth of my hate of you.

...You roll into your local starbucks and order a tall coffee in venti cup. Well no, then what you want is a venti from which you will pour out half and fill the rest of your cup with heavy cream and 27 sugars. You don't get to just make up your own rules, but I get to make up my own hate here.

...You are in the 10 items or less line and think 40 cans of catfood counts as 1 item. I realize you live along with 10 cats, haven't had sex since you got drunk in college, pay for your food with checks or count out the exact change so you can use your pennies, but what you are also doing is holding me up and since I am the center of the universe, you are also getting hated.

...You are introduced to someone, you meet you say hello, you have a dreadful conversation, then you proceed to see each other another 5 or 6 times, each time being introduced and each time you saying you have met this person. No you haven't just met someone for the 6th time, you can only meet someone once, but you can be hated several, several times.

...You are at an ATM, you are for whatever reason filling something out, making deposits and withdrawals and whatever else annoying people do, but rather than complete your paper work which is apparently more complicated than a tax return, you do this right at the ATM so the 7 people waiting in line to get cash for the bar next door have to stand around thinking about how much they hate you.

It puts the lotion on it's skin or else it gets the hate again

2006-09-27T10:01:00.000-04:00

…You are the Daily News that asked it’s readers what they hate about riding the subway and didn’t even have the decency to refer everyone to my blog. Um hello, I’ve dedicated the last year of my life to this topic. The tools sending in their emails saying, yeah I hate that, when what they should have been doing was reading the hate that’s been here for all to see. In honour of what initially inspired the hate, I bring you the greatest hates volume 1 – The subway years.

…You are running to the subway and get caught in the doors as they are closing and then give an embarrassed laugh when you finally make it. Your laugh then continues for the next five minutes of the ride. No, no this is not funny, you held up the subway, and now when I get to my connecting subway, it is just as the doors have closed, I will know that I missed my train because you just haaaaad to catch the last one, delaying me that crucial 15 seconds, which now has caused me to have to wait another 15 minutes for the Never train, get to work late, miss my meeting with the President of the company, get fired, then hate you.

…You are waiting for the subway doors to open and instead of waiting to the sides like a sane, rational human being, you decide to plant yourself directly in the middle of the opening doors, then as the wave people begin to pour out of the train, you try to fight you’re way in, like a salmon against the current trying to spawn. What is the rush with this fucknut? Does he need a seat that badly or is he really that stupid? The train is not going anywhere until those people are let off, so let them off and let you be hated.

…You enter the subway, it’s virtually empty, you then proceed to stop immediately upon entering the train, thereby creating a blocked passage way for the 2 dozen other people behind you. You are the only person in existence, that’s the only logical explanation I can come up to help me get inside that mentally disabled brain of yours. What drives a person to be either so selfish or so clueless to the presence of other human beings that they can’t manage the simple task of actually stepping into the train without getting completely and utterly hated?

…You are riding the subway and refuse to hold onto anything and then are shocked when you are jolted when the train moves. You think those are there for show or just the décor? No they are there for a purpose, unlike you, there is a reason for their existence, they are to be held, they prefer to be held firmly to ensure that lower species such as yourself, don’t fall when the object they are inside goes from a complete standstill to 50mph in 5 seconds, they are there so that the higher intellect, such as myself, can hate you.

…You are riding the subway and decide that this is just as good a time as any to start eating half a rotisserie chicken. It’s crowded, it smells, it’s hot and you just have to eat that chicken now, although I beg to differ because that “seat” is actually three seats and you can’t even seem to fit in that. Do your body a favor and try skipping that subway meal or try an apple instead licking every last pit of greasy fat juice from each finger. Do you have any idea what’s on those hands of yours? You just touched a metal pole that 10,000 other snot infested hands touched, you are truly a monument of my hate.

…You think riding the subway is a game of musical chairs. At every stop you insist upon finding a new seat, it’s not because some smelly person just sat next to you, no, not because there is a less cramped seat on the other side, no. No one knows the reason, I’ve studied this for years and have to make any headway. There’s 4 stops on my morning commute (yes I’m spoiled) at every stop, you are in a new seat each seemingly having no advantage over the other. There would be somewhat of an explanation if each seat brought you closer to the door, even though no seat is more than 5 seconds from any door, but that would prove some logic to this game, but you in fact move farther away from doors, but somehow move closer to my hate.

…You wear your sunglasses on the subway. I know too bright down here huh? Yeah, we get it, you’re cool, you want to be just like Paris and Nicole all smart and skinny right? It’s every father’s dream to have a daughter to grow up emulating them, but why are your sunglasses 5 inches wider than your face? Those look ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as you wearing sunglasses indoors and underground, in fact, that’s beyond ridiculous, it’s hated.

…You enter a subway car, there is no one else standing, other than me, but then you walk straight to me, standing right next to me as though you just came in from the cold and I’m a warm fireplace. You have the entire train car, even some open seats, but no, you had to come in for the real thing and stand right next to me, leaving me barely enough room to breathe and barely enough room to hate you.

…You are holding onto the center pole, but instead of allowing some distance between you and the pole, you have one leg wrapped around the bottom and are virtually humping it so that not one other person can hang on. If you are a hot woman at a strip club, then yes, please by all means swing upside down from the pole, make love to the pole, do whatever comes to mind, if I question whether or not you slept on the train last night, then no, you should not be swing from the pole, you should be making love to the pole, you only be hated.

…You are standing next to me on the subway, holding onto the overhead bar and your hand is positioned right next to my hand, where then the unthinkable happens and you are now touching my hand. When strangers hands touch, you immediately pull your hand back as though you just touched the stove, but you’re different, you go against the grain, you left your hand there, you allowed your hand to remain in contact with me for far too long, even when I did the throat clearing and dirty stare, you held your ground and then you held my hate.

…You are the self flagellating masturbator I’ve seen riding the subway on far too many an occasion. How can any self respecting homeless man pleasure/punish himself on public transportation? Somehow, moving between cars and drinking a coffee is illegal on the subway, yet pleasuring oneself is accepted? Well maybe not accepted, but tolerated? I can’t believe this man tapped me on the shoulder to move out of his way to get a better look at the girl with the big butt, at what point in society did we find that public masturbation was anything other than hated?

Hate against the machine

2006-09-22T08:52:00.000-04:00

...You are wondering why I am hating today when just yesterday I said I needed more time. Well today I was inspired by completely stupid headlines on yahoo and so....

...You release a "study" stating that breast implants are linked to suicide. Oh really, you think the people that are happy with their appearance and themselves go out and get breast implants? Perhaps your "study" should look at suicidal women and see how many have or seriously considered getting breast implants, that's like having a study released stating that eating more is linked to obesity, or releasing a study that states those that get blogged are found to be hated.

...You release a study claiming that smoking is linked to increase risk of HIV. Ok geniuses, I can't believe we spend money on pointless research. Let's see who are most of the smokers? People that drink, people that drink tend to make some bad decisions, bad decisions while drinking tend to be unprotected sex, unprotected sex leads to higher risk of HIV, there's your damn study for you, start paying me for this "research" and I'll stop hating you.

Hate in Translation

2006-09-20T20:18:00.000-04:00

...You can't wait until next week for a new dose of hate. Sometimes, people have other things to take care of, like intense psycho-therapy for one, and sometimes people just don't feel like sitting in front of a computer anymore and sometimes, albeit surprising, people just don't feel like hating you.

Some say hate, it is a river

2006-09-18T05:46:00.000-04:00

...You are that dude from Counting Crows. Did this guy get breast implants in his face? How does that happen? How do you go from seemingly normal sized person to looking like you're saving acorns for winter? This is amazing and should be studied by medical science, but for now it will only be studied by my hate.

...You are selling spinach at a fraction of the price. I thought the country outlawed the sale of spinach last week and here you are trying to salvage the few pennies you'll lose. I just want to know how poopy got on spinach in the first place, don't people realize that e. coli is poop? Was someone pooping in the spinach bagging plant? Is popeye okay? Are you hated?

...You claim you have an IQ over 160. So let's say I know a couple hundred people, and then meet maybe another couple hundred randomly thoughout a year, how can I hear an unreasonably high number of people tell me their IQs are over 160? Can we settle something here, please? Online IQ tests are not real, everyone gets a 160, that's how they sell whatever it is they are selling, that's how I know you're IQ is no where near 160, and that's how I hate you.

...You sell headphones and knowing that no one makes any headphones that stay in your fucking ear, you don't allow people to open them and try them on. So I have to buy them, open them, try them on and then I can return them, yes? Can you please save me the trouble of having to return these things and let me open them? No? Okay, I'll take one of every set you have, I'll pay for them, then walk immediately to customer service I will try them on as I'm waiting in the 7 hour line of all the other people returning headphones and hating you.

...You hand me a funnell in a bar and are suprised when half of it falls out the top all over me. I'm twenty fucking nine years old, why am I doing funnels of beer in a bar on Houston street? Is this normal behaviour for a man my age? Should I be living in burbs, raising some kids, getting fat and getting hated by now?

...You are the piece of scrap paper that I wrote 7 great hates on while lying in bed trying to overcome insominia and then I unkowningly threw out. The world will be a less hated place without the joy of these magnificent 7, you must understand once I make a note of it on paper, it's immediately erased from brain until I read that 2 word reminder and instantly I can sit here and write about how much I hate you.

...You write the description of a food item on a menu and use etc. Um etc? I kinda need to know what's in this. A pita stuffed with tomato, lettuce, etc. etc. wow that really sells your product, etc sounds delish, please, I'll take 2. It's too bad that when I ordered me some etc. I found out it only consisted of hate for you.

...You spell words like u r a gangsta. So now speaking horribly has progressed to writing like you are 12. I's knows all da playa hatas out dare ain't gonna be diggin me fo dat, but pullease, stop dat shit befo I hate you.

...You are in the elevator and give the "have a goodnight" or "take it easy" before the door actually opens and I have to sit there in utter agony waiting and waiting and waiting for that door to open. That 3 seconds feels like an eternity, what goes through your head when you blow your load like that? Do you get out of the elevator, slap your forehead and say DAMN IT! I peaked to soon, I blew it and now I'm hated.

I can hate for miles and miles and miles

2006-09-13T10:16:00.000-04:00

...You make and error in tennis then immediately after you look at your racquet then ever so delicately you adjust the strings. No it wasn't your strings that failed you, it was you that failed you. Accept that your game is slipping, accept that you missed the shot, accept that I hate you.

...You advertise a sleeping pill and say side affects include drowsiness. Really? I never would have expected a pill that makes you fall alseep to cause fucking drowsiness. Is this a serious side affect or a stupid joke or is the world really looking for a sleeping pill that doesn't actually make you fall you asleep, which I guess would be called cocaine or it would just be my hate for you.

...You are a man, a straight man, and you go for a mani and a pedi. Listen, straight men do not care about their cuticles, they don't care if their nails are long they don't care if they write blogs about hating straight men that get this done, yet are a straight man that knows about the entire process before he hates you.

...You go the movies and start eating popcorn and other "treats" as though you have never eaten before. Rather than eat one popcorn kernel at a time you eat a fist of popcorn at a time, and you can't seem to finish the keg of popcorn fast enough. What's your rush paco? Oh I see you need to leave enough time for the twizzlers, sno caps, m&ms and the nachos. How did nachos make it to the movies? I guess the same way Chinese food made it to baseball games and the same the hate made it to you.

...You get to the gym, you mount your cardio machine and then proceed to set up camp for 20 minutes before you even begin using it, all during peak hours. That 30 minute time limit includes set up time in my book. You are not the only person in the gym that wants to use that machine at 7, you see the line of 15 people hating you?

...You are my gym nemesis. You know who you are, you are the uglier, shorter version of me. I understand that being short has given you small man's complex and you try to mask it by being as wide as you are tall, I see you looking at my time, my speed, my resistence, distance, then you try to move those nubby little legs of yours to try and catch up. At least be discrete about it, I can see you that I'm older than you, I weigh less than you, I'm taller than you, I'm faster than you and I'm less hated than you, without you knowing it.

...You are waiting for the subway doors to open, you are on the outside, there is a herd of people waiting to exit the train on the inside. The doors open, but you don't try to enter the train, you don't even move, you just stand square in the center of the door thereby not allowing people (i.e. me) to exit the train and thereby causing people (i.e. me) to hate you.

...You are walking towards someone, say me for instance, the person you are walking towards is walking along a wall or the curb which is on that person's right hand side, someone obviously has to move and it should be you, seeing as all traffic moves on the right. But you are different, a maverick of sorts, you think somehow, you can get by between me and the wall, a feat that would even impress David Blaine, but you couldn't do it, you could only get hated.

...You are walking towards me directly in my path, you are shorter than me, but you do not yield to me. Perhaps you have no concept of the laws of human kind or perhaps your a fundamentalist rather than a darwinist. You are smaller than me, natural selection ese, you must move out of my way. Just because you are wearing an XXXXXXL t-shirt, a red yankees hat with a perfectly firm bill (is that what it's called) pulled down to your eyebrows, and walk with fake limp, doesn't mean you are tough, it means you are acting exactly like a suburbanite tool from my high school circa 1993, GET A FUCKING NEW STYLE, get out of my way and get hated.

...You walk down the stairs to a subway at a leisurely pace as if you hadn't a care in the world, even though the train doors are about to open and a sea of people are about to run you and by default, me, down. Asshole, pull your pants up and try walking at a normal pace, some of us are trying to get to work so we can start having anxiety attacks, and some of us are trying, quite unsuccessfully, to not hate you.

All Hate and no play makes jack a dull boy

2006-09-10T21:28:00.000-04:00

…You insist on inspecting the food that I’m eating. I’m baffled by people’s obsession with the food that I eat. Why do you care? Is this some way to alleviate the guilt of your eating garbage? You should feel more guilty after seeing what I eat. And no I put no brown sugar on my oatmeal, maybe if you ate it you would realize that oatmeal is brown too. Try staying away from the grease pit and I’ll try not hating you.

…You include on our cafeteria menu, “hot protein”. Ok, who’s writing this thing? I either have a disgustingly filthy mind or someone has a perverted sense of humor. I vote for the latter. What’s even better is the menu option and I quote “tossed salad hot protein” and right below, I shit you not, “Hot protein: jerk chicken”. So first you get a tossed salad, then you get some hot protein by way of jerk chicken and top that all off with some hating you.

…You are standing in front of me on the subway and instead of holding on with one hand like every physically able person does, you decide to hold on with two hands, but not normally, no you have to basically straddle me with one hand on either side of me, looking me directly in the eye. To make matters worse, there is plenty of room elsewhere on the train where you could easily stand and not be hated.

…You have an option on our cafeteria menu that says “steamed broccoli”*. Now you may question the asterisk as I did, but it includes a very important statement as a footnote *denotes meatless dish. Oh really, we’re not talking about chicken broccoli? What I really don’t understand is that absolutely nothing else on the menu includes the asterisk, so what is the point of it? I wish I could post the menu without risk of being fired so instead I have to blog the menu at the risk of you being hated.

…You walk down a flight of stairs exactly in the middle leaving no room on either side for other people to pass. While you may appear to be walking, you are in reality moving at such a slow pace that the old lady with a cane is actually huffing at your slowness. I am continually amazed at how slow people can be, how do ever get to where you’re going? You must have to leave hours in advance and you must have to be hated hours in advance.

…You are eating lobster and throwing around inadvertent innuendos like it’s candy. No, I do not need your nutcracker. I realize that the tail is the best part and that you like tail and you like a nice big tail. No I’m not much of a leg man so you can have these. By the way, I’m officially done with lobster thanks to the giant glob of jelly in mine and thanks to my hate of you.

…You are the help desk. I guess you don’t understand the term help, you’ve been anything but helpful. I shouldn’t be the one telling you how to do things, I’m pretty much computer illiterate and the best thing you’ve got is reboot. I’m so glad that we outsourced the help desk, because if you were in the US then I would have to hate you to your face.

…You send out the presentation, agenda or any kind of materials for a meeting before the meeting, then bring copies for everyone to the meeting. Is everyone missing the point or just me? You send it to people so they can print it themselves, if you plan on bringing the materials don’t F’n send it to me ahead of time, you know everyone will print it, why else would you be sending it. Now when it’s my meeting, I’m forced to send out the material ahead of time because everyone else does and then I’m forced to bring copies with me, because the one time I don’t, no one will print it and then I’ll have to hate you.

…You say “you’re the man” to someone at work because they did some fairly basic yet did it well. Here you go champ, here’s you’re gold sticker, you’re aces. I feel like I’m fucking 6 years old and just won the spelling bee because I could spell neighbor. Yeah, yippee, we all get chocolate sundaes with whipped cream and cherries on top. Congratulations you have just been hated because you’re the man.