So Full of Hate...

It's true (I say that alot) but it seems that today (and everyday for the last week with the exception of a lovely evening spent in Youbou) I've been filled to the brim with hot, steaming hate. So I've decided to compile a list of the things I hate this week in hope of not being so damn full of hate anymore. Like lancing a boil. Which I've never actually done but I hear it's quite a relieving kind of thing. We'll see.

Things That I Hate:

Girls with so much makeup on that it looks like a mask (orangey line around the base of the face and that weird textur-y thing that makes their faces look like they're covered in some kind of really thin crepe paper - ick).

Men who look obsessively at your boobs while talking.

Stinky old men who call me honey (as in "bring me some more coffee honey" - are they insane? can they not sense the impending ass kicking?).

Big stupid ass-muppets who make really ridiculously stupid jokes/comments non-stop all day on one of the busiest workdays ever and then get pissy when I don't laugh (and then ask them to please not talk to me for the rest of the day because I'm too tired to pretend to care).

Pedestrians (when I'm driving).

Drivers (when I'm pedestrianing :-)).

My hair (it's doing this weird flippy thing on one side and hanging completely flat on the other and then there's a nice layer of frizz on top - it's hot).

People at work who stand around talking shit while everybody around them is running around like crazy people trying to just get to the point where we're not praying for the hot water tap thingy to fall over, scalding them just enough so that they have to flee the building immediately leaving their tables to wallow in their own annoyingness.

Customers who can't seem to find a single thing they actually want on the menu and so decide to make up their own damn meal like so..."I don't see what I want here so I'm just going to tell you and you can figure it out okay? Okay, so I want a cheeseburger but I also want bacon, but no mushrooms and no tomato or onion but I do want lettuce and no pickles but mayo only on the side and no relish and no hot dogs or anything like that and ketchup. And I'd like a holladaise sauce on the side. Can you do that?"

Customers who don't even read the menu at all and act surprised that we actually have a meal that is exactly what they want. "Okay, I want 2 eggs, wheat toast (I also hate people who call brown or whole wheat toast "wheat toast" all toast has wheat people, stop being so lazy and just say whole wheat for the love of god) bakon, and hash browns." Me: "Sure, so the bakon and eggs platter then?" Assmonkey: "Oh, you have bakon and eggs? Do I get hashbrowns and toast with that?" Me: "No, not really. I'm just fucking with you. We're actually the only breakfast restaurant in the universe that doesn't have a bakon and eggs breakfast you moron."

People who look at me carrying the tray laden with a million frickin' glasses of water going to the table next to them and say "Do you think I could get that coffee now?" to which I reply, "Sure, you bet. I'll just pluck the pot right out of my ass with my super secret (but handy) third arm and get that right to you, you dumbfuck."

The old guy yesterday who said, "I'd like a coffee, an apple juice and a water, do you think you can handle that?" To which I actually did say, "I don't know, I'm actually not very smart but I'll give it a shot."

People who respond to "how are you today?" with "coffee."

Falling asleep while I'm driving. I am indeed half asleep while driving home alarmingly often and the other day I did actually fall asleep briefly and woke up only when my car drifted over one of those reflector thingys on the side of the road (right beside the concrete barrier separating one side of the highway from the other). It was great.

Duncan. Enough said about that one.

Skinny bitches. I know. I'm old and bitter and whatnot but hey, I'm at one with that.

My ass (and all the other fat bits attached to it). That sort of goes with the previous one but I didn't want you to think my hate is all outwardly focussed. Does focussed really have 2 "s"es? I don't think it really does. I hate not being able to spell anymore. I used to be able to spell. It was either all those drugs I did in the 90s or living in Japan that destroyed my spelling abilities. Now I'll never be a child-prodigy spelling bee champ. Damn. Hopes and dreams dashed again. I also hate that.

Well, I think I may have run out of things to hate for the time being. Either that or I'm just really tired of sitting on the floor of my parent's spare room (I hate not having the internet at my place) so now I'm going to go home where I will proceed to lay on the floor praying for death so I don't have to get up a 5 o'clock in the fucking morning to go to work tomorrow where I will be faced with dozens upon dozens of the aforementioned things that I hate all over again. Bah!