I hate...

April/2005: Personal - I'm going to be a typical LJ'esque blogger for an entry and give you a list of things I hate. This is as gothy as I get.

I hate... that the KFC I go to always fucks up my order. I don't want gravy. Don't put gravy on my mashed potatoes. Don't ruin my food, That's all I ask. Yet, that's all I never receive.

I hate... my library card late fees. Look, I know I checked out a book for a few months too many while I was in high school. I'm not giving you the sixty dollars. Just forget about it and let me check out books again. I won't keep them forever this time. Fucking christ, a couple of our convicted guys end up with just probation and you're sentencing me to a life without free bookery? Library-nazi's.

I hate... this little feather toy I have for Moxie. Each morning, I wake up with the feather toy next to me. It's like the godly "Wake up to the King" Burger King commercials but with a cat toy. One day it was under the covers. Each night I stick it in the cat tree. Each morning, it's laying by my side. I know you love to play with the toy Moxie, but let my old, old ass get out awake before I'm expected to swing the long plastic stick with feathers around. I'm not a machine! :(

I hate... green hard plastic lawn furniture. MY BACK IS KILLING ME ARGH. Sure, I'm not in great shape (Yet baby, yet) but nobody is going to survivle HARD GREEN PLASTIC LAWN FURNITURE. Why do they make this crap? My back feels like someone fused it together with a bad blowtorch. I'm going to be pissy for at least two days about it. Fuck.

I hate... The fact that "New Pope Media" hasn't died off yet. There are real stories in this world. Please go back to covering them. They're good stories, I swear! GO TO WORK MEDIA. Find better stories!

I hate... The fact that I have to wake up at Seven AM tomorrow to do radio. I love radio, I just hate Seven AM. I wake up, I'm staying up a bit. So that will screw up my sleep schedule. I'm going to be so tired. Maybe I can tank the interview on purpose, and admit that the entire plan of PeeJ is to destroy Mars. It's true. You read it here first.

I hate... The fact that I haven't started round 3 of the Pop Cult's most annoying celebrities tournament yet. Go Martin Short!

I hate... How tasty the Spicy Chicken Burrito is at Taco Bell, so long as you request the fiesta sauce to be held off. Buddy christ, that's a good burrito.

I hate... My hair. God, that's so female to even write. When I wash it, it looks like crap. If I don't wash my hair for a couple days, it starts to look great. Why? You are dirty hair. Dirty hair should not look better than clean hair. Yet it does. And it's more manageable. That means that Dirt > Mousse. I look like a big poofy haired gay after I wash it. If I let it go, it's the dory without the hunky, natch. Still, why is dirty hair better? Maybe it's time to get Dredlocks. I can go be rasta with all the other posers.

I hate... That I haven't talked to one of my few actual friends for a couple weeks now. But guess what? Once I do get to talk to you, WOW, will I have stories to tell!

I hate... the fact that the great and interesting stories I have on store to tell her are not able to be told on this blog. If I could write about anything and everything without a care towards operational security? This blog would be great, all the time. But I can't. I can't talk about the recent arrests. I can't talk about the recent media. I can't talk about a very interesting upcoming trial of a perv, and the even more interesting charges he is facing. No, I can't talk about it. I hate that.

I hate... Morphine Jim's PSP. Oh wait, it doesn't exist.

I hate... My own thrifty nature. For example, grocery shopping. I cannot pay more for an item that I have ever bought at sale. Can't do it. So if I see a killer sale, it's great because hey, it's a killer sale. But then? I will likely not be able to buy the product again for a few months. For example, right now they have Ice Cream on sale, two for six bucks. Sound good? Wrong! It was just two for five bucks a couple months ago. No sale. Pizza? They tried to pass off a four dollar for twelve buck deal on Red Baron's. I about spit. I 've bought the "Pizzeria" style for less than that before, let alone the classic! Four or ten or I'm not buying. On everything, I am that way. I would rather go hungry than pay anything over lowest possible price. In a few years, inflation will have killed my ability to eat. Then I will starve and die.

I hate... Vonage. How dare you not offer security features for your phone plans! Can't block numbers which are themselves, blocked? Bullshit! Can't block specific phone numbers from dialing over and over? Bullshit! Go to hell for a while while I use a competitor. Oh snapalackelcrackalackel.

I hate... Loud. You don't need to yell! You don't need to! You never need to yell! I don't yell. I save yelling for really important occasions, like say a detective bashing an abducted kid or gravy on my mashed potatoes. There are two kinds of talkers... loud-talkers and low-talkers. Why do I always meet the loud-talkers? Fun fact: I once had a date end abruptly because of this very issue. I talked too low for her to hear, she talked too loud for me to deal with. The entire world could stand to be much more quiet.

I hate... Scraping your fork against your teeth. Or gravely bowl. Makes me want to murder. With blood.

I hate... The fact that I'm not asleep right now. I really would like to be. It would be nice. I'm tired. But I can't go to sleep since I'm awaiting an important IM. No, it's not your's. Moxie's asleep on me. Colby is sleeping atop his castle. Everyone is asleep in the world but me. Fuck.

I hate... That I cannot seem to catch the last two episodes of the Surreal Life, no matter what I do. I keep catching the marathons of it. I get right up to the same show I've seen three times, the fucking dirty laundry episode. Why aren't they tacking on the last two episodes to the marathons? VH1 seriously needs help on how to schedule their programming. I also have not seen the final episode of Celebrity Fit Club.

I hate... Those shows. They're so enticingly rice cake vacuous. Yet, I continue to watch.

I hate... Soreness from basketball. And the fact that I'm only back playing a lot of basketball because I've been watching far too much of Celebirty Fit Club. If that fat fuck Ralphie can lose weight, that quickly, then I'm going to be back at my optimal weight by the end of summer. Internet be damned!

I hate... Whenever that I once again find that all the best people are always so far away. I blame the internet. Back in the 1800's, people just had to make due with the shit in their own hometown. They attended meetings and dances and shit to try to find anyone, someone that worked while molding the community to try to produce good people. Now? The internet connects you to good people, yet they are in say, Alaska. Or Sri Lanka. I don't care where, but they're never in Portland. That's because our weather is so pleasant that it creates few of we hard-bitten cynics.

I hate... Jay Alternative's fashion sense. Look buddy, I know you're gay. But whenever you suggest clothes? They suck. They suck! The entire belief that gay guys can improve the "look" of straight guys is rooted in stupidity. Unless you have cash, females don't care how you dress so long as you don't look stupid. No, they just care that you have cash. Rightfully so, may I add. You gays just try to gay up we straight people to make us look gay and appealing to you gays. Gay with the gayness of gaying all around the gay-town. That's all I have to say about that.

I hate... These sorts of entries. Stop whining people. I read so many LJ's now of people so self absorbed that they whine, whine, whine. At least make it comical. Make it something. Something more than "Look, this person has problems we all have, but handles them poorly." One line posts talking about how terrible your life are should be left to the same drama whores that look up to SuicideGirls.com as something to be inspired by. Stop whining. Give us something more.

I hate... Sandals. Wear shoes. You're not in the third world. Stop acting like it.

I hate much more, but you know about it all, already.

There is just too much to hate. Aww.

But it's too much fun to not hate.