Archive for January 2011
I don’t like sweets. Yes. There. I said it. It’s not that I DESPISE them. Life is not that simple. There are many shades of gray out there. I feel dark gray about sweet things. Yes I will have a cookie here, a slice of pie there, and a bite of ice cream somewhere in between. I ate like, one serving of ice cream last year. Shocking right!? Anyway, it’s usually a nonissue if I choose a Slim Jim (don’t judge me they are delicious) over a Snickers. EXCEPT ON A BIRTHDAY. Why is the ONLY ACCEPTABLE celebratory centerpiece dish thingy that the WHOLE EVENT centers around (gotta blow out those candles!) an effing cake??! You can stick a candle in anything! Like a cheeseburger or pile of nachos (more my speed). They are just as bad for you as cake and ice cream (I almost fell over when I found out how much cholesterol was in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s), and at least to ME more delicious.
So what gets to me is that when you are celebrating a birthday and you decline that slice of cake you look like a jerk. Like, “No thank you, I don’t want a slice. It really looks delicious though! Oh, and by the way I think this is the perfect opportunity to let you know that I’ve always hated you and I hope your birthday wish doesn’t come true. In fact I hope the opposite happens. What a weak party. I’m out.” It’s even worse when it’s YOUR birthday and you are not even eating YOUR OWN BIRTHDAY CAKE that everyone worked so hard to get/bake/prepare and it is soooooooooo delicious and WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, you ungrateful……. What a b**** right? So then you make yourself eat a slice because all of the chips are gone and you’re hungry and while it IS a darn good slice of cake it is still not a cheeseburger and then you feel bad for wanting something with cheese on it ON YOUR BIRTHDAY when all of your friends went out of their way to provide CAKE and ICE CREAM (yippie!) because they love you even though you are a horrible human being and they (quite conveniently) happen to LOOOVE cake and ice cream. I’m just sayin.
oh wait, no one cares. i get that everyone thinks they are mega important. i get that everyone thinks other people dont mind that theyre venting. but hey, heres the thing…. youre totally harshing my mellow.
i know that im guilty of it. we all are. you just start talking and suddenly theres an onslaught of negativity. if you really try, you can spend your whole day being a huge cry baby about everything from how shitty your waitress at lunch was to the weather. hell, you could even complain about the injustice of only making it into the chorus in your 5th grade school play. if we take a moment and reflect its pretty easy to see that no one wants their day ruined by your whining.
Where do people get in the habit of saying “question” before asking a question? Where did that come from? I don’t shout out things like “complex sentence” before i start talking. What could possibly be the purpose? I find it totally irritating. Like the fact that you interjected an indication that you are about to ask something implies that i have to stop whatever i’m doing to pay attention and attempt to answer you. Its bad enough in general but even more annoying when you’re in the middle of a conversation. You dont need to announce that you’re about to ask something. You and i are already talking. You can just insert your question into the conversation like someone who has talked to another human being at least once before in their life.
I hate people that bring their dogs to bars. Its ridiculous. Like bringing your child. Dogs have no business in bars. They don’t drink and i’m pretty sure the smoke is bad for them. Its one thing if you’re stepping in to buy a sixer or something, but to come into a noisy, smoky, drunk-y room where other people are just trying to smoke and drink in peace with your big lumbering pet is just inappropriate.
But what really pisses me off is the sense of entitlement that dog owners seem to feel on this matter. Like if i have a problem with you having your dog sprawled out like a throw rug somewhere between me and the bar I must be a bad person. Whatever. Not everyone likes dogs. To me its the equivalent of bringing a large, dangerous creature into a public place.
What if i decided to bring my pet fucking tiger around with me everywhere?
What?… My velociraptor’s on a leash. Is it bothering you? Its super nice. You can pet it if you want.
The fact that your pet canine makes me uncomfortable isn’t my fault. If you want to hang out with your dog so bad, do it at home. Shit, if i wanted to hang out with your dog, i’d come over. But i don’t, and i wont so don’t force it on me in a place i specifically come to to feel relaxed and comfortable.
I hate umbrellas. I hate them passionately. I hate the threatening, pointy spokes that are right at eye-level. I hate that when i walk past someone the runoff from their umbrella is liable to soak my shoulder or my foot. I hate the way that a person with an umbrella takes up twice as much sidewalk real estate as a person without one. I especially hate how people who are carrying umbrellas will have them tilted down in front of their stupid faces and walk around looking at the ground just so they can run into you and poke your eyes out and drip on your coat. Its just rediculous. I hate umbrellas so much that rainy days make me want to walk around with a super-soaker. Then once people are soaked they wont have a reason to carry their stupid umbrellas around. Or drive around in my car and speed through every curb-side puddle.
Its the city, sidewalk space is precious and you aren’t the only one walking down the street getting rained on. Buy a hat.
I hate First Friday. It should be called Worst Hangover Saturday due to heavy consumption of cheaper than river water wine. Being in an art gallery makes it seem ok to drink whatever alcohol is given to you, because shit, it must be classy if all them art people are drinking it. it’s not though. you’d be better off robotrippin. I’d say more, but i’m still recovering from Friday. And it’s now sunday.