| | Phucking Personal Pet Peeves (list #3 of 45)
Nobody's perfect, and I'll be the first to admit it. I've gone
through alot of things that have changed me, and you could say the
same. As much as I love life, there are always some minor things that
get at me, like that tiny pebble in your shoe. That's why I'm here to
share with you some personal pet peeves of mine.
- When people ask a pointless question like: "Are you okay?"
after you just lost $500, got involved in a car accident, lost three
toes, and somehow got deported from the country. Of course society
makes it so you're forced to say "yeah, I'm fine." Look here, bishes.
- Food shopping with parents. I
don't know why, but every time I'm forced into this weekly ritual of
going around and kicking a shopping cart around, collecting whatever my
mom throws into the cart, it seems like I'm wasting 45 minutes of my
life.
- Getting haircuts. As much
as I enjoy the outcome of my haircuts, I just hate the whole process. I
must've had a terrible experience as a child or something that scarred
me for life. "AHHH! NOT MY EARS!" kidding.
- Drinking from the same spot on a cup. A pet peeve that has stuck with me since grade school. Des happens to experience the same problem. Her reason? She's a germ freak.
- Grabbing the last piece of food
and asking if anybody else wants it. Like we really have a choice
here? "Yeah, give it to me!" I'd love to see the reaction on
their face when I do say it. S/he will most likely prod me with a spork
under the table.
- Bad breath. Experiencing
the hot breath of a "dragon" will end up cinging nose hairs, and
leaving an odor bestowed within your nose for years--you don't want
that. That's why whenever I head out in public, I'm always chewing
gum. Wrigley can thank me for supporting them by purchasing over $3.2
billion dollars worth of supply.
 Worse than SARS, it's bad breath
- An oily forehead. Not an
hour passes by without me somehow wiping my forehead. Whether I use
tissues, my sleeve, or the dog (kidding)--my head will never resemble a
bowling bowl--I must have my forehead unshined.
- Overkill of advanced vocabulary. My
journalism professor said it best. It went a little something
like this, "Even the greatest minds who know every word within the
dictionary have the worst writing skills." I couldn't agree more. I
hate how some people think they can show their self-worth and
intelligence by trying to stuff as much vocabulary into their work
making reading their writing an utter chore.
- Slow internet connections. Freaking-A,
I pay $50 a month for broadband access, not 56gay(56k). If I expected
mediocre service, I'd of went around looking for a way to steal
wireless internet (hot spots, baby!).
- Cussing. I simply can't do
it. You'd think that being a male, living in New York would make me a
box filled with obscenities. But if my memory serves me correctly, I
must've said the almighty "F" word about 7-8 times within my life, and
that's due to reiterating people's conversations, or storytelling. And
if I were to cuss, they would be in a variant form like: shiet, fugg,
bietch, or arse.
- Eating/drinking out of a freshly washed bowl or cup.
I'm talking about fresh off the sink clean, where it's still wet.
Something about the water that gets to me. Maybe I'm subconsciously
thinking it's still "dirty"?
- People who spit in public.
I won't mind if you do this in a bathroom, but when you're in the city
of NY, the chances of someone stepping into that gunk is highly
probable.When you spit, you have to protrude your lips, form a circle,
pull back the tongue, and shoot the air from the trachea and aim for a
safe spot on the ground. I mean, if you think about it, you're exerting
more force to expel the saliva than simply swallowing it (eww. that
bring me to another pet peeve below). Until you can prove to me that
you're a Cobra, or other venomous snake, leave the spitting to them.
 Sssss-essy
- Swallowing a large quantity of spit.
It's not as ghastly as it sounds. I'm not talking about spit by the
gallon. More along the lines of teaspoons when you first wake up or
when you smell what
the Rock's mom's cooking. It's a
morning ritual for me to spit right into the sink each morning before
taking a whiz. Which brings me yet again to another topic:
- Flushing public toilets with my hands.
Never, never, never. Unless there's a personal janitor within each
stall that continually sanitizes the lever, I'm not touching it. So
what's a boy to do? leave my yellow mark for the next customer? Never!
That's what shoes were made for! One swift kung-fu kick, and flushhhhh,
mission complete.
- Those friggin' magazine subscription postcard inserts.
The first thing I do when I receive my mail is hold the covers of the
magazine and shake it. It's like a shower of postcards. HOORAH!
- A cold toilet seat. There's nothing like
waking up in the middle of the night after a late-night run at Taco
Bell, only to sit on a surprsing shock at 4am. That's why I usually put
my keester (still with shorts on) on the toilet for a few seconds
to warm it up--just like pre-baking an oven! Those hours reading about
cooking in the library paid off!
- Poor grammar. Sure,
I'm guilty of a few slip-ups. But people who misuse "they're, their,
there" or "it's and its" and words like "infamous/famous" etc should be
beaten to a pulp and thrown back to the first grade. Look, you spent 5+
years in grade school, make it seem like you actually paid attention in
Mrs. Hoggat's class.
What about your pet peeves?
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