Thursday Hates

Soak 'em up, people.

* Humidity in October. I swear to God it's like an effing sauna in this town. My face feels greasy constantly. Like to the point where I'm almost certain that at some point in the day I blacked out and someone poured olive oil on my face and then rubbed it with a luke warm pepperoni and cheese pizza Hot Pocket. It's FALL! The air is supposed to be crisp and I should start wearing cardigans or some shit. I should NOT feel like I'm living in some third world jungle country on the fucking equator.

* Dealing with bureaucracies while trying to change my last name. For real, this is just retarded. I've had to go to three different places and stand in lines and be near the general public with their swine flu's and their children that cry and filling out this form and that form. THIS SHOULD BE EASIER! Like you go to one place on-line, submit your marriage license and pay them whatever amount of money they want and BOOM! Your last name is changed on absolutely everything.

* People who cannot leave a proper voicemail message. Seriously? It's 2009. How is it that there are people left in this world who do not know how to slowly and CLEARLY speak their name and their telephone number? Reminder to the human race: I am NOT a mind reader and if I can't understand your message, guess what? I DON'T CALL YOU BACK, SUCKA!

* People who use the word "good" when they should use "well". "Oh yea, I did real good on that one." Ugh. Did you not pay attention in 2nd grade English class or are you just that fucking retarded? Way to make yourself sound like a true uneducated hillbilly. You're gonna go far in life.

* People who park in my covered, reserved, and PAID FOR parking space outside my apartment. I hate you. I truly truly hate you. I hate you even more at 1 in the morning when we're just getting home from an awesome night out and all I want to do is get out of the car and inhale the Taco Bell we just got and then go to bed but I can't do that can I? You know why? Because you parked in my spot and unreserved parking is SHIT in our complex and it's either risk parking in what I think MAY be an unused covered parking spot OR park on the other side of the freaking complex. I hope you enjoyed that slip of paper on your windshield from my husband that informed you how very lucky you are that you're even able to drive your car away. Next time? I hope you enjoy the brick in your driver's seat.

* Your = your. You're = you are. Your != you're. Enough said. Also, if you have a full keyboard either on your phone or at your computer...please, for the love of all that is holy and good in this world, STOP using U for you.

* The people who live above us in our apartment building. There's just the two of you and a toddler. How in the HELL is it possible for you to make SO much noise constantly? Are you doing acrobatics? Working on your jumpshot? I really don't care to know what y'all do up there but I wish you would stop. Now. My pictures on the wall are crooked and I'm almost certain that one day one of you is just going to go through the floor and land in our living room. Also? I can hear you when you snore. Get some Breathe Right, homey.