“I hate rug burns, and I hate polka-dot ties…”
“…but most of all I hate my ex-girlfriend’s new guy… I hate that guy.”
Tyrone Wells has a song about things he hates, and says listing it is like therapy. I’m in need of therapy today, so here’s my short list:
- Strong jacket-inducing A/C indoors, particularly when it’s a lovely day outside.
- Chapped lips and no chapstick for miles. (For a girl who’s purse is usually loaded down with several dozen varieties, I can never even find the crappy 5-year-old berry-flavored kind when I really need it.)
- Grouches. Any and all. If you’re grouchy, go away.
- Roadblocks, AKA people who constantly some up with Negative Nancy reasons to not do something. “Oh, you’re right. Why break the boredom and try to succeed? Let’s just sit here and stare at our hands. Good call.”
- Loooooong afternoons.
- Zits. I’m 24, not 14. Why, Lord?
- Frequent, repetitive and unnecessary cussing. It doesn’t make you sound like a bigger man – just ignorant.
- Weak coffee
- Warm beer
- When people write e-mails using text-message-ese. Really? You didn’t have time to spell out “you”?
My short list is getting longer… but I think the therapy is working.
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