Happy Festivus, your arse, I pray God it's our last

Now for the airing of grievances. I got a lot of problems with you people, and now you’re gonna hear about it.

-You smell like three-day-old shit on a turtle’s corpse. Take a bath, you filthy baboon.
-You scumbag, you always leave one chip’s worth of dip in the container and put it back in the fridge. What the fuck am I supposed to do with one chip with dip? Yeah, I’m talking to you in the blue shirt with the creamy white glop on your chin, stinking of French onion and headsweat.
-Cover your mouth. I don’t want your disease on my face.
-Don’t think I can’t hear you listening to MmmBop just because you’ve got headphones on. Cranking the danged volume to 11 defeats the point of personal listening devices.

Don’t all Festivus threads belong in the Pit, by definition?

No. Just… no.

-You say “no” for no good reason. I mean WTF, man? It’s Festivus.
-Your full-car wrap that reads “Don’t worry, America, Trumps on his way” is more than slightly annoying. If for no other reason than you forgot an apostrophe.