Things I Hate

Have you ever been so busy you forgot to eat? If yes, please explain to me how this is possible.

I love meals. I look forward to eating breakfast in the morning. Lunch is the happiest part of the middle of the day. Snacks are little gifts from the Food God. And dinner is your chance to celebrate the wonderful day you had. With food.

Yes, I understand skipping a meal. I also realize that a human can physically be too busy to eat. But I do not comprehend a person who can go about their day for hours and hours without food and not be constantly annoyed and hungry the entire time.


It’s easy to find things to love and hate about living in the Bay Area. Shit. It’s easy to find things to love and hate about living anywhere. I think Northern Californians have a special struggle in this regard. Probably because I live here, but also because I’m smart. And discerning. Those are definitely different things.

So if you’re here, visit the Marin Headlands. Go to Pt. Bonita, hit up the frigid beaches, explore an old army bunker. It’s great.

But parts of the trip are not fantastic. You’ll have to battle tourists on the bridge and wait for them to take pictures in every scenic location along the trails. There will be trash too, because someone couldn’t be bothered to carry their empties back down the hill.

But maybe you’ll get to watch a turkey vulture from above, and perhaps we can all agree that makes it worthwhile.

The Bay Area has best of many worlds (like going from beach to mountains in just a few hours, good coffee, In-N-Out)…and the traffic to prove it. We have tourists and their dumb segway tours, but also we make money off them. We deal with hippies and pseudo-intellectuals and burners and hipsters on a daily basis, but we also get to complain about them. And that is some rich goddamn fodder.

Also we have fog.

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You don’t mean “gams,” because you aren’t a gangster from the 1930s. You mean “legs.”


Oh, a dress? Because I’m pretty sure the only people who wear frocks also wore bloomers and petticoats and corsets. You affected twat.


Are you French? Then you can say “Fête.”


This is a legitimate word, it’s just used by horrid, self-important people who think they have impressive vocabularies. And don’t want to come out and say “snack.” Lameness by association.


Glamorous. Glamorous. Glamorous. Your mag sounds supes dumb when it abbrevs words.

photo courtesy of Franciov

These are the things every hairdresser says to me when I get my hair cut.

Every. Single. Time.

1. “It’s okay that your hair is really thin because it’s also kind of curly.”

2. “You’re swimmer? You should put conditioner in your hair before you get in the water. And do you wear a cap?”

Conditioner renders your head so slippery no cap will stay on in the water. Also, every swimmer worth their salt wears a goddamn cap.

3. “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Knowing me, no. And now I’m uncomfortable.

See also: Intense discomfort during the shampoo. Who in blazes designed those sinks with the neckholes, because I have yet to come across one that doesn’t make me feel like I’m trapping all my blood in my head. Also intense discomfort with weird cloth that sometimes gets wrapped around one’s neck. I think I would mind bits of hair less. And stop making me try to talk to you.

4. “You should use a diffuser to dry your hair. Here. I’ll show you how.”

You mean I point the end that blows out the hot air at my scalp? Ohhhhhhhh.

5. “Your hair will be even curlier now that there isn’t so much weighing it down.”

No. It won’t.

6. *runs fingers through my hair over and over* “I’m just placing your curls.”

Pretty sure you’re just turning everything into a loose, frizzy mess. Please take your hands away.

7. “I’m going to use some saltwater spray for a ‘beachy’ look.”

Actually you’re going to use some saltwater spray for an “unwashed hippie look.”

Aside from the deaths of loved ones, serious injuries, financial disasters, and war, below is a list of ten things that turn my mood immediately from good to fucking terrible. I will assume you are exactly the same.

Ten (Minor) Things That Ruin A Day:

  1. Step on a lego in your bare feet.
  2. Realize you lost your keys. Frantically empty entire contents of bag on to sidewalk. Hear a metallic jingle and feel sudden rush of relief. See that it was just a buckle hitting another buckle or something. Realize you really did lose your keys in a second, totally-soul-crushing moment. Then, THEN find said keys. Spend the rest of the day pissed off at keys and bags in general.
  3. Read an article about a teenage athlete who is sailing around the world/reinventing ski-cross/going to the Olympics/just fucking killing it in general. Also they’re really attractive. And rich. And sixteen.
  4. Something is stuck in your teeth, but you cannot get it out. Nor do you have floss.
  5. Attempt to parallel park, don’t quite get the angle right, and turn the process into a five-minute wiggle-back-and-forth-like-a-retard maneuver. Pedestrians watch you the entire time.
  6. Justin Bieber.
  7. Visit Facebook because you are bored. Hate the inane shit that everyone posts there, but read it for a solid 30 minutes anyways. Somehow finish by being even more bored and also loathing yourself.
  8. A giant, spiky booger is in your nose but OTHER PEOPLE ARE LOOKING AT YOU AND YOU CANNOT PICK IT.
  9. It’s one of those days where the internet is just lame. All of it.
  10. For whatever reason, your asshole is incredibly itchy.

What I need to complain about today is related to Thanksgiving. And specifically, the terrifically crap Thanksgiving-themed crafts that seem to be an unspoken pillar of the holiday. Every year, children and adults all over America waste time, money, and perfectly good construction paper making bulky and unattractive Thanksgiving centerpieces. Horns of plenty. Decorative gourds. Borderline racist pilgrim-and-indian dioramas.

But the worst, the absolute worst, is the “Traced-Hand Turkey.” I don’t care if it helps kids develop motor skills. I don’t care if it’s a great way to use up the feathers from the boa that’s been disintegrating since Halloween. I don’t care if it preserves forever your memory of how little and precious their hands were in the Year of Our Lord 2011.

So, I took the obvious route and made some motivational-poster-themed examples.

Tootsie Rolls

Tootsie Rolls have been around since 1896. And by that I mean ALL the tootsie rolls have been around since 1896, because I’m pretty sure Tootsie Roll Industries just produced several million of their slightly-turd-like candies that year and stores have just been trying to get through their inventory ever since. They sure as hell taste like it.

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