Tuesday, September 25, 2012

There's a Good Chance I Hate You

I'm not here to talk about what chicken casserole recipes are the best, or funny stories about my pets, or any other things successful bloggers discuss.  I don't pretend to like everyone and I certainly don't claim to be a patient person in the least.  All that said (yet again), here are a few things that increase the likelihood that I hate you.

There's a good chance I hate you if you only wear a sports bra to the gym.  Since when has this been acceptable?  This isn't Olympics beach volleyball or Friday night at JMU so I don't know why you think you have the right to prance around a public place half naked.  Put ya damn shirt on and work out like you mean it, or else go to the pool.

She's probably not wearing shoes either.

There's a good chance I hate you if you like Taylor Swift.  T-Swift is the same nickname my high school's varsity quarterback had back in 2009, and it was cooler on him.  Was she the star of a Disney Channel show?  No she was not, so she needs quit all this nonsense about how innocent she is.  She dated John Mayer and he is a freak-a-leak (I read it in Cosmo).  Oh, she writes her own songs?  I don't care, they suck. She look like a hedgehog, and her award acceptance speeches are dumb.

The best moment of all tiiiiime.
And this.  This is just a pure outrage.  I won't allow the disgrace of Joni Mitchell.

There's a good chance I hate you if you strike up a conversation with me in the grocery store, and we don't know each other.  I don't go to Kroger to make friends (in much the same way that I don't fly on airplanes or hike the Appalachian Trail to make friends).  I'm there to buy four different kinds of cheese and a case of Natural√© Light, and if I'm not mistaken I didn't ask you about your motorcycle or favorite time of year.  I don't know what part of my bitch face gives off an "inviting a conversation" vibe, but I work hard to look pissed off all the time, and it's mostly to avoid people like this, so I don't appreciate being undermined.

There's a good chance I hate you if you named your kid something like Blyss or Kyler.  Those aren't real names, in any language.  I'm all for originality, but think about your kid going into a future job interview with a name like Honeydew.  Let's not.  Here are some more outrageous names.

There's a good chance I hate you if you're the car alarm that goes off outside my window every week.  It's midnight, and I have at least two more hours of farting around on Twitter that you're interrupting.

So, there's a good chance that if you don't do any of the above, plus several hundred other things I didn't name, that we'll be the best of friends.  XOXO.

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