I hate it when people interrupt you with their own solutions. Like you’re telling a story about how you avoided an accident, and before you finish they jump in and say what you should have done.

I hate it when people argue creationism. Jesus did not ride a dinosaur!

I hate it when I ask a question and people respond by asking how I don’t already know. For instance, I’ll ask “How do you play sudoku?” and the person answers “You don’t know how to play sudoku???” I still don’t know how to play, because everyone answers like that.

I hate it when people back seat drive. Like, they start panicking or slamming their foot on an imaginary break. Or they say “WATCH OUT!” and so I look at whatever the fuck got them so worked up, and it’s a car five hundred feet away. Most accidents are caused by driver distraction, which means you, back seat hazard.

I hate it when people ask me for computer help just because I know computers, but then get mad at me when I don’t do it right. I’m doing YOU the favor, bitch! Fix it yourself if you know how to do it right.

I hate it when people interrupt the flow of a webpage with ads. I don’t want to see your crappy ads.

I hate it when people don’t know the difference between irony and coincidence

I hate it when I ask for help, and someone recommends the obvious answer. For instance, I ask someone in the office “Why doesn’t the copier work?” and they say “Oh, you just need to hit the copy button,” like I’m a stupid ass. Of course I tried the copy button. You think I’d be asking for your help if that worked? What makes it even worse is when I say “I have been” and they say “Are you sure?” You low-expectation having motherfucker.

I hate it when people point me in the direction of Google as a first-resort. For instance, I’ll ask, “Do you know how to get a business loan?” and the person responds, “Try Google.” Well no shit, I already spent an hour on Google. I wouldn’t be talking to you if I could help it. Granted, that may not be the easiest question in the world, but they compound the stupidity when they come over and show me how to use Google. “See, Google’s a very nice tool,” they say. Thanks for your condescending bullshit, assface.

I hate that my dictionary didn’t recognize assface.

I hate opossums. They’re huge, ugly-ass rats with no redeemable social value. We have plenty of scavengers; go do your own thing.

I hate people who don’t comprehend sarcasm. Though I’m glad that you took it as a compliment, I was actually trying to tell you that you’re a twatknuckle.

I hate it when someone tells me what I want to do is not possible. If you don’t think it’s possible, then you’re in my way, and I will use your head as a stepping stool. I asked you for solutions, not for more problems. These people belong back in grade school where they need to relearn how to use their imagination.

Tyra Banks. Oh God I hate Tyra Banks.

I hate it when people say “They really need to write a book about my life.” Whoever “they” is needs to be shot if they publish a book about your life. Your life is boring, and reading about it will give my eyes gonorrhea.

I hate it when people spray Lysol or Febreze to make something smell better. News flash: those chemicals smell like industrial garbage. I’d rather smell the dog crap on the carpet then the nerve agent you just poisoned my lungs with.

I hate it when Bush talks. Seriously, that’s not even a Texas accent.

I hate people who use the elevator for one floor. If you’re disabled, or the floor is inaccessable, fine. But being fat doesn’t count as disabled.

I hate it when people ignore traffic signs. That yeild means you mother fucker!

I hate the fact that most girls don’t hold the door, or attempt to appear to hold the door, when I’m a few feet behind them.

I hate OBX stickers. Overseas, this style sticker identifies where the vehicle is from. Like, we have “Maryland” on our plate, they would have UK. Then it became a trend in America starting with people putting “UK” on their car, which turned in to other countries, which turned into cities, which turned into highschools, which turned into bands, which turned into me shooting myself in the face because there is no way your car is registered in DMB (Dave Matthews Band)

I hate Nebraska. Stupid corn

I hate fondue sets. Yay, Swiss communal germs and molton cheese make for butt blockage plus disease. Ain’t nothing fon about it. (ha, pun)

I hate it when people try to say Global Warming doesn’t exist. Yeah, I didn’t believe it at first either, but that was in the early 80’s. Hurry up and catch up with the rest of the world you G.E.D.-having dumb fucks.

I hate mimes, fan fiction, and tracing paper: the lowest form of each genre.

By Banm Tuack