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Monday, March 8, 2010

5 Things I hate about you - first edition

Here we go as promised. 5 Things I hate about you will be a recurring post where I get to share my discontent with various segments of society and people that disturb me. Just so we're clear: I don't hate you specifically (although, if you weren't sure about that, NOW I hate you) but these are specific actions by or types of people that make me wish natural selection was a little more... selective. Not to worry; I'll be posting 5 Things you hate about me to balance things out. I'm an equal-opportunity hater. Let the verbal spewing begin!

5 Things I hate about you

1. You live in a warm climate
If you do - fuck you. A thousand times over (I said it was "hate," not "possibly dislike"). I grew up in Erie, a decent-sized city in Pennsylvania that is positioned right next to Lake Erie (go figure!) and receives approximately ten thousand inches of snow a year. If it wasn't for the beach that was accessible one and a half months a year, that place would have a higher suicide rate than Branch Davidians (a fifteen-year old mass suicide joke? Yes SAH!) So, I left Erie, went to school near Pittsburgh, where the weather improved so much that snowfalls ended in March instead of April (most years). I mean, half of my spring breaks in college meant leaving school in the middle of a blizzard - ridiculous. Anyway, after school, I followed a job and went to Ohio (FUDGE), and stayed for my wife (DOUBLE FUDGE). As of now, I'm stuck in this flat, shitty tundra of a state for at least a few years. Meanwhile, my parents retired to Florida and routinely call me complaining about it being only 50 degrees - jerks. So if you wake up in the morning at least 300 out of 365 days a year and can wear shorts and a t-shirt outside, I hate you with every shivering, light-deprived muscle in my body.

2. You make more money than me
Simple - you've done better than me in life, and for that, I hate you. A clear, precise, natural hatred for you. Enjoy eating out every night, having others do your laundry, and being able to afford classy hookers and uncut drugs. But don't worry, I'm fine with my guvmint cheez, fat whores, and whippets.

3. You're always right
Its really not that you are actually always right, its just that you THINK you're always right. This oblivious feeling of self-awesomeness is the reason I hate you. We discuss a topic amicably, but regardless of the scientific evidence I may provide, in the end you pull a Tony Kornheiser on me and "GAME OVER! I WIN!". And the worst part is, most people, myself included, continue to have discussions with you where you walk away believing you proved your point, and now I must acknowledge that Ransom is a terrible movie, or that Ohio isn't THAT bad. You have no idea that as you speak, people are rolling their eyes, flipping you off, or cursing your existence.

4. You're old
I'm not promoting euthanasia or anything, but old people constantly get in my way and annoy me on an almost daily basis. Driving is the most obvious one, as I almost always encounter that octogenarian that can barely see over the steering wheel and can only see the 5 in the 55 mph speed limit. But also, maneuvering around these people in grocery stores is equally taxing. Its like their steadily decreasing driving abilities have infected them to the point that even shopping involves inadvertent swerving, hesitant starts and stops, and befuddled looks (when did the bank get a cereal aisle? where did this cart come from? WHO AM I?).

5. You have herpes
I think this one is obvious - your raging hormones or questionable morals are to blame for me being perpetually terrified of catching some groin-destroying disease. I'm married now, so the fear has subsided a bit, but as a youth, I admit that I approached any potential one-night stand scenario with eagerness and paralyzing anxiety. Its like one of those horrific Japanese game shows where you put your dick in a vise and hope you get all the answers so Mr. Happy doesn't resemble linguine. Let me see - I can have sex with her, but I may end up with an incurable disease that makes me look like the Masturbating Bear ten hours a day, except MY rubbing isn't getting me off, its getting off the million microbial beings inhabiting my taint. Yea, that sounds fair. Let the thirty seconds of joy commence!


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  2. Do you know what the 34th leading cause of suicide is? Watching the shitty movie Ransom. It comes in right after listening to the Free Credit Report commercials and right before reading Bill Simmons' articles. You add in that some non-random asshole tells you the ending of the movie 30 seconds before it happens, and that probably jumps up a few spots.