Me: Hey, it's hate week!
Him: What? Who do you hate?
Me: You, sweetheart, I hate you.
Him: I can’t hear you, but ok.
Me: I hate you.
Hate Week Post 1 “When People”
I hate when people…
- cut me off but then wave to me as if they were apologizing. Fuck you, man. If you’re going to cut me off, cut me the hell off and tell me to kiss your ass. This world has no use for half-assed assholes.
- say, “It’s like this song was written for me,” or “The lyrics describe EXACTLY how I’m feeling!” This does not mean that there is some special link between you and the “artist” (and I use the term VERY loosely). This just means that your emotions, viewpoints, and probably your entire personality are generic. P.S. Don’t make me listen to the song and force me to nod and agree that it is so totally you.
- dress their tiny dogs in tiny clothes and email their pictures to me with captions like, “Stupid-dog-name-ending-in-a-Y, looooooves her pink tutu.” Or “Stupid-dog-name-ending-in-a-Y looks soooooo pretty in her sweater.”
- to learn how to spell D-E-F-I-N-I-T-E-L-Y.
- disregard the idea of Personal Space.
- look down on me for letting my boyfriend play video games on the couch while I cook dinner, build a shower caddy for the bathroom, and separate our laundry right when I get home from work. One, our relationship is none of your business. Two, I work in an air-conditioned office with a comfy chair and I’m usually sitting all day doing my work in peace, while he works in a humid basement with no fan with a boss who is constantly at his heels. Who deserves a rest when they get home? Three, he washes dishes, takes out the garbage, and lifts the heavy things, he also makes sure I don’t fall down when I’m drunk, and keeps other guys from hitting on me. He does his share, he just wants to play video games and I’m fine with it.
- don’t say thank you when I hold the door open for them. Especially when it’s a bunch of teenaged girls in booty shorts with words on the ass, their hair in some sloppy mess, big sunglasses, and flipflops.