Nomen Est Omen

Things I Hate

I actually have a category titled, "Why I Hate People" so do not be surprised if I embellish on some of these in the future.

I hate roommates who use my things and then, when I ask them to care for them according to my wishes, call me a dictator. If I say don't put my pots and pans in the dishwasher, you stupid bint, don't do it or go buy your own. This is not a socialist household. I do not work hard and buy things for you to use as you wish and, after you have destroyed them, have the cojones to tell me I need to replace them!

I hate guys who express their feelings for you yet after you tell them, tactfully, that they don't have a chance in hell, they still check you over from chest to crotch and never once look you in the eyes while carrying on a conversation. I hate you more than anything in this world and wish you would fucking die you greasy pig ass creep! Don't even think about me!

I hate neighbors who get pissy with you, come up to your door and demand you be quiet when you are putting together the last part of a bookshelf at 9pm, despite the fact that you have listened to their little kids running up and down the stairs, inside and out, screaming at the top of their lungs, slamming the doors and causing mayhem until well after midnight three nights out of the week. And if that wasn't bad enough, decide two weeks later that they need to remodel their kitchen and pound on the walls until 11pm. Nine pm is not too late and is not yet "quiet hours" according to the police, strike one. Your hypocrisy is bleeding all over the building, strike two. If you're going to confront me, speak my fucking language because this is America, English is the national language and you have no right to get huffy, look at me with disgust and storm off because I don't speak yours, strike three.

I hate it when you are looking for a job and the places you send out resumes and cover letters to don't even have the fucking decency to let you know that they have received your information.

I also hate it when you answer their ad in the paper they just put up not one hour before and they tell you the position is already filled. How? How is it that when you post a job on Craiglist at 6pm on a Friday evening, I apply at 7pm, you come back and tell me the job is filled. You didn't have time to call anyone up, have them come in for an interview and hire them in that hour. If I don't meet your requirements, tell me but do not insult my intelligence by claiming the position is already filled you nutsack.

While I'm on this kick, if you tell me "no experience required" then don't turn around and tell me I don't have enough experience.

Finally, during an interview, don't ask me why I want to work there. Because I need a job, asswipe. Why the hell else do you think I'm applying? You know my answer is bullshit just like everyone else you interviewed so why even bother with that question?

I hate the selfish assholes at the laundromat who use 5 washers, leave, despite the sign that says, "Do Not Leave Clothes Unattended", come back an hour and a half later, after they did their shopping, and act surprised that there is a line up of people waiting for them to get their damn clothes out so that we can use the washers now. Thank you. Thank you for making an already annoying experience even worse by lasting three hours longer than it needed to last. I hope you got bleach residue on your clothes, bitch.

I hate it when friends ask me how something looks on them, give them my honest opinion they beg. I do and then they get upset with me. Look, from now on, go look in a full length mirror. I'm done. If you look in the mirror and think you look fine then let's just leave it at that. Don't ask me for my "honest opinion" if you can't handle the answer.

On the other hand, if we are out, kickin' it and you see that I have something on my face, be a friend for crying out loud and tell me so that I can get it off! It's such a treat knowing I've been walking around with a smudge on my cheek for the past three hours because you were too worried about "hurting my feelings" if you did tell me. No, what hurts is that you let me look like an asshole all night long. Thanks. Paybacks are a bitch.

I hate it when a roommate has all her friends over, they get shit faced and then go out but don't bother to ask me to come along. But OH, I'm sure good enough when the roommate comes back, needs to puke and wants me there to hold her hair back for her along with some coaching. Hell with you. Next time? I hope you get chunks in your hair and don't realize it so that they spread all over your bedding after you stumble your way back into your room and pass out. Enjoy cleaning up the next day, hung over while I, completely sober, watch all of this with some enjoyment.

I am not a psychic. Pardon the fuck out of me for not going the instant the light turned green.

We're in the store. You have kids. Your kids, with snot running down their faces are running wildly all over the store, crashing into people, screaming. We, the rest of the patrons, do not think it's cute. I will not smile back at you after your kid jams the grocery cart into my ankle in the check out line. You have no right to get in my face telling me how I need to relax and understand these are children. My problem isn't with your children you hippy bitch. My problem is with you not teaching your children that this behavior in public is not acceptable and that when they run into someone causing them to lose skin, they need to apologize and calm the fuck down!

If you weigh 250 pounds, do not, under any circumstances, try to give me dieting advice when I tell you that "no thank you, I do not want a donut" because I'm trying to live a healthier lifestyle. The day your rolls of blubber no longer spill over the tops of your jeans, which are screaming in protest at how much you've asked them to hold, is the day you can start doling out tips. Until then, shut up.

If we are not to discuss our bonuses, don't come running up to me the day we get our checks and ask me what mine was. You twit, like I'm going to jeapordize any future bonuses after you find out I got more than you and ran off to complain to the boss. There's a reason mine is higher...I do more work than you while you spent the last three months making all kinds of excuses as to why you couldn't show up for work or do your work when you were there. HAHAHA! That's what you get for putting it all off on me requiring me to spend 4 out of 5 days in overtime each week. Feel the sting!

I hate it when people tell me smoking is bad for my health as if I were completely unware of this. "WHAT!?!?! It IS! Why the hell didn't anyone share this with me before!?" I know it is you fools. It's the one vice I have. Let me have it and deal with it on my own terms. I will quit when I'm ready to quit. And when I do quit, don't dance around me like it was your idea. I will do it for ME, not you. And if I try and fail, you really don't need to be preaching to me. The last thing you need to be doing is preaching to someone who is trying to deplete the nicotine from their lives. How stupid are you? You may as well play with a loaded gun for as safe as that is.

I hate that I even have a hate list. And I hate the fact that it's much longer than this but that's all you get for today. What brought this all on is that I really, really, really, really, really, really, really wanted a certain job and I didn't get it. This is how I vent my frustrations. Let me have it.

OH, and the thing I hate the most? When I'm venting, which is healthy because I'm not bottling it all up inside causing me to climb a water tower one day and go ape shit, is when some asstard comes along and says, "Calm down". Especially when they don't realize that when I vent, I'm doing it with a touch of humor, as in, I'm laughing at the ridiculousness, the absurdities. So, please, don't make me cut you.

Posted by S. Faolan Wolf at June 14, 2005 05:29 PM