I have a few things on my hate list today. I am filled with rage. Well… not really. Mostly I’m filled with blood and internal organs. And to be quite honest my current mood is one of mild annoyance. If I had a mood ring on, I think it would be puce (It’s a colour. No really).
Lesser men might save each thing for it’s own individual hate post, but NO! I will vent all of my hateness in one extended vomitoria (it’s latin. And probably conjugated wrong. meh.). This might mean you will only get one blog post from me in the next week, but you know what? I didn’t promise you anything. Just because I updated lots in the first week. Surely that happens with every blog. You can’t tell me what to do, YOU’RE NOT MY REAL MOM!! (and if you’re wondering why I spelled that the American way – i.e. wrong – when I’m clearly not American, it’s because I’m being ironic. And in case you don’t think that’s “ironic” kindly fuck off read this link which explains that I can use irony whatever way I like. Nah nah nah nah nah naaah).
My first hate for the day is the Loser Cruiser. Otherwise known as the bus. Public transport. I know, I know, complaining about public transport is so last millenium (I bet that’s the first time you’ve seen that phrase in 9 or 10 years. Stupid millenium), but I had thought I’d got past the phase of my life where I would need to catch the loser cruiser with all the other… well, losers. I thought I was finally better than them. But I’m not. Ever since some dickwad stole my moped and broke it into pieces. It already had a flat tyre and a broken taillight – who steals a broken bike?? How do you even do that??? Ironically, the tyre and taillight were two things that had been fixed when I got the pieces of my bike back – but they broke the headlights and the seat and the starter motor and the wing mirrors and a whole bunch of other crap.
And what’s up with bus drivers? You’d think that as that is what they do all day, they might actually get good at it. HeeeEEELLLL NO! (you have to imagine that as if a Jamaican was saying it). You basically get two types of bus drivers; The old and slow. They’re old. And so so slow; And the fat and mad. Stomp that gas pedal fatty, then brake as hard as you can, go around corners as if you’re in a slalom race. It’s ok, I wanted bruises from the “safety” bars – and I didn’t know the crazy “lady” sitting next to me well enough, but now we’re basically married. Anything to get you to your McDonalds quicker.
My second hate of the day is Spring. Fuck Spring. I’m talkin bout the season, not some newfangled sex toy. All new Fuckspring. Bounce bounce bounce your way to new heights of lovemaking. In theory, Spring is wonderful. Gambolling little lambies, flowers blooming, warm weather with the occasional sunshower. Bull. Shit. It warms up for a couple of days just to trick your internal thermostat to go into summer mode and then it’s fucking cold again, and pouring with torrential rain. Spring is the primetime for man-flu. And all the new flowers and crap don’t exactly help out there. Fuck Autumn as well. Autumn is the same crap the other way around.
My third hate, and this is a hate I’ve had for a long time. This is no temporary hate that may ebb and flow like the tides. This is a permanent hate like the sea cliff that all those lemmings hurl themselves off in their agony at the cruelty of the world. Lemmings are so emo. And it is this: People who don’t pay attention to what is going on around them. I kinda hate that I don’t have a more succinct way of putting that so I will have to acronym that shit. PWDPATWIGOAT. Hmmm, I like the goat bit at the end, but I can do better than that. TWAATS. Those Who Aren’t Aware of Their Surroundings.
You KNOW who I mean. The people on the street who stop to talk while effectively blocking anyone from getting past, or walk five abreast (or two abreast if it’s mothers with prams) and go so slowly that you just want to scream. The people in the club who do not realise they have dumped their “Gucchi” handbags on the main thoroughfare to the bar or the toilets – and then get annoyed when you step on them and break their GK sunglasses. The people on the bus – and this is where all my RAGE for the day culminates into one big whiney feel-sorry-for-me moment – who do not fucking realise that having the window open on the left side of the bus means the right side of the bus gets the draft (the air goes to the back and around – it’s not rocket science), and also don’t realise that perhaps when everyone is shivering and wearing jackets it may be too cold to have the window open, even when it is Spring, and especially when the person opposite has the FUCKING MAN-FLU!! Although I think it was an actual cold this time because my fiance also got it and it put both of us out of action for basically 3 days.