I hate perfumed toilet paper

If my flatmate buys another roll of perfumed toilet paper I swear I’m going to stuff her mouth with it until she chokes. I’m allergic to perfume so every time I wipe I get nervous, like my bum is about to break out into a rash or something. Anal itching aside, what’s the point of it? Who is sniffing her ass so much that she needs to disguise its odour with chemical flowers?

I hate long byes and short byes

I hate when people say bye on the phone really quickly. Like their lives are so busy that they don’t have time to say the whole (three letter) word so they clip it short. They’re like, “Yeah, OK. Buh.” *Click*

I hate plaid

You’re not a lumberjack. You’re not a cowboy. You’re not in a grunge band from 1991. Stop it.

I hate Kanye

Does Kanye West practice being a prick before awards ceremonies or does it come natural? First the onstage shitfit, then the backstage tantrum, and then last week he made that painful speech at the Grammys. Lucky for Kanye he’s got buds like Spike Jonze. After spending a Saturday together last year, the two have collaborated to create “Flashing Lights“, in which the rapper is bound and gagged in the trunk of a car by a scantily clad woman who proceeds to batter him to death with a shovel. It’s brutal, but I can imagine what drove her to it.

I hate dentists

I know that this one is a bit like saying I hate murderers or I hate AIDS or I hate famine, but dentists can eat a bag of dicks. Now, I need to make it clear that I’m usually pretty good about dental hygiene. And even though I’ve started eating more sweeties since I quit smoking, I brush and mouthwash twice a day. Yesterday however, I awoke to an sharp, alien, tear-inducing pain in my mouth. It felt like a molar had exploded and was now a popped kernel of corn. I couldn’t stop tonguing it, but every touch triggered excruciating pain - like I was snogging an exposed nerve. Drinking water felt like swallowing molten lava. I clearly needed emergency treatment. So I phoned around and found a dentist to do it. She quickly assessed the damage; I had a very deep cavity and the rotting had caused a bit of tooth to break off. Despite her prognosis and the forecast of forthcoming pain, she assured me that it would be OK. When she injected the local anesthetic it didn’t hurt. I didn’t even flinch when she dug out all the shit that was clogged up in the cavity. I didn’t even feel her peg in the silver filling. But you know what did fucking hurt? The £190 bill she hit me with. Ouch.

I hate long nails

When I was in sixth grade I cut all my nails into sharp points because I saw a photo of Glenn Danzig with his nails like that. My knife-nails, as I called them, were evil and menacing and cool, or so I thought. Thankfully, since sixth grade I’ve grown to detest long nails, be they sharpened or dull. They don’t even have to be talon-like for me to hate them; any bit of nail extending beyond the fingertip is enough to make me vomit on my dick and use the puke as lube. Actually, that’s a bit harsh. But just imagine getting a hand-job from that hand. Worse still, imagine her inserting a pinky.