Things I Hate

I try to spend most of my time dwelling on the things I love, so this is going to be tough. Try to read this all in one breath.

From the top:

TV.
Cars.
CEOs.
Dams.
Plastic.
Golfers.
Pigeons.
Shaving.
Pustules.
Walmart.
Clearcuts.
Pesticides.
Advertising.
Networking.
Sweatshops.
Rogue hairs.
Euphemisms.
Wasting food.
Complex bongs.
Drawing a blank.
Baggage handlers.
Impenetrable truths.
Non-Forever stamps.
Planned obsolescence.
High Fructose Corn Syrup.
People who date my ex-lovers.
Cities in the middle of the desert.
The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle.
Getting frisked on my way into a concert.
That there’s more than one way to skin a cat.
Anything cool that I wasn’t in on from the beginning.
That deer haven’t evolved to see the color bright-orange yet.
Feeling like a rapist every time I smile at an attractive human being.
Not telling off the inspector at the airport because he or she is just a lackey.
The cumbersome lack of a non-gender specific third person singular pronoun in English.
Antiperspirant with a bunch of crazy shit in it that Old Spice expects me to rub all over my lymph nodes.
People who’s complete agreement with you makes you look like you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.
People who think they know more than you about something just because they’ve been working in that field for years, or they have a degree in that field, or Joanna Macy’s chauffer comes to their potlucks. Fuck you.


Wow, that was cathartic.