Archive for the ‘People’ Category

I hate urban handshakes

June 10, 2008

God, can normal people stop doing these? If I had a penny for every time I tried to shake someone’s hand and they then manoeuvred this gesture into a weird clenched palm, elbow in the air urban greeting, I’d have about 85p right now. Listen, you’re not a “gang banger” in the Bronx. We’re English. We shake hands. Accept it. If you can’t accept it, then please don’t try and inflict your weird hand touching fetishes on other people. Shaking hands may be seen as not macho enough, but wrapping your whole hand around another man’s hand and then pulling him towards your chest is probably bordering on sexual assault in some countries.

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I hate living with people

May 12, 2008

Living where I do, being anal about hygiene and house tidiness means I can’t turn a blind eye when faeces is smeared all over the toilet, and I prefer the fridge not to smell like it’s got a decomposing family of rats at the bottom of it. My housemates are much more laid back characters. They have a special, yet common condition called Selectively Repetitive Blindness to Disgusting Mess Disorder.
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I hate people who blog about themselves and their boring lives

May 6, 2008

I find blogs where people solely talk about themselves and what they get up to every day weird, deluded and a bit mental. I guess people see these blogs as a sort of digital diary but isn’t the whole point of a diary that it’s for your eyes only? The appeal is in the secrecy, surely? Having a diary for the world to see must defeat the object, unless the whole thing is a desperate cry for help (which often appears to be the case).
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I hate going to see my friends’ bands

May 5, 2008

There’s little worse than being emotionally blackmailed into going to see your friends play a gig. It’s bad enough watching a dreadful, sleep-inducing band. But when your friends are the members of this soporific group, unlike at any other gig, you can’t leave early for fear of offending anyone. So, for the entire night you will then have to stand with a constant forced gleeful grin on your face to give the impression you are having fun. If everyone else is dancing you may even have to sway from side to side so as not to look too conspicuous. I pride myself on my honesty but is there anything you can do when the band come at the end to ask you what you thought apart from smile falsely, nod a lot and tell them it was “really good”?
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I hate the little sign language people who pop up on TV

May 2, 2008

One night last week I was attempting to watch an inane film that seemed to mostly involve Kurt Russell violently rutting Courtney Cox (don’t worry, there was no Johnson’s Baby Oil involved, it was just a very slow night elsewhere on terrestrial TV) when a bulbous man in a pink shirt popped up at the bottom of the screen and started flailing his arms about and making sign language gestures. The guy was fucking massive. He wasn’t even keeping over to the corner either – he was right over towards the middle of the screen waving his arms up and down, and generally getting in the way.

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I hate Agyness Deyn

April 3, 2008

Agness DeynI just really, really, really can’t stand her stupid face any longer. Every time I see it – which these days is at least 5,000 times a day – it makes me want to move to a remote island where fashion, neon and peroxide don’t and never will exist. Also, it is me or does her name make you think of a rare breed of cow that might be found in the Outer Hebrides, or maybe a demented, heavily wrinkled incidental member of the Royal Family?
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I hate bicycle couriers

March 27, 2008

Bicycle courierI was starting to worry that my capacity for vitriolic rage and hatred was depleting of late. Then, on my way to work today I saw something that brought it all rushing back. Bicycle couriers. These specimens are a filthy sub breed, dare I say unter menschen. They congregate in central London with their stupid bikes with mini handlebars and they drink raucously on the streets dressed like gabba ravers from Bristol or Italian lycra-clad rapists. They get drunk then do wheelies while all their decrepit friends cheer like a pride of gibbons in the Savannah. But their greatest sin is the way in which they clearly consider themselves to be a sort of SAS of postal services, an elite force. While, in fact, they are a load of dossers who realised they could make money jumping lights, bunny hopping over curbs, swearing at cars, not stopping at zebra crossings and generally being total cunts. I can’t wait for the day I get to witness one of them being slowly crushed under the wheels of a large white van after going the wrong way up a one-way street.

I hate airports

March 5, 2008

Chicks on tour

Nowadays, travelling via an airport to anywhere is a pain in the arse. It’s basically a total waste of time (if you ignore the minor fact that getting to somewhere really, really far away by any other means of transport would take 3-4 weeks).

There are myriad reasons I have grown to hate airports. Firstly, I always fall into the trap of checking in my luggage and then saying to myself, “Hmmm… I’m thirsty. I’ll go and buy a nice, refreshing drink at that handy newsagents over there.” After paying £3.50 for a bottle of water, I breeze along to the next stage of the airport dance – the security check-in for your hand luggage. And what do I find? I’m not allowed to bring my water through with me. Fucking weasels. Why have a shop selling a fine selection of thirst-quenching beverages that are only of use if you are so thirsty you want to pour the entire thing down your gullet in world record time?
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I hate Avril Lavigne

February 20, 2008

Avril Lavigne

I hate Avril Lavigne for the following reasons: she makes music that sounds like a sewer rat being strangled by an alley cat behind a Blink 182 gig, she has one of the world’s most punchable faces, she has pink streaks in her hair (which could never look good on anyone, nevermind her), she wears ties with T-shirts and she replaces letters with numbers (“Sk8er Boi”).

So, there we have it. These are enough reasons for me and anyone with an ounce of sense to hate her. Yes? Case closed. Not so quickly…

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I hate dentists

February 8, 2008

DentistI 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.
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