"I hate when people in line behind you anywhere feel that they have the right to stare at and analyze your purchases on the checkout lane. It’s like an announcer is saying over the loudspeaker, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have Sarah in Lane 7 purchasing a white lace bra, a Erykah Badu CD, and what’s that? Oh! Vaseline! There’s some kinky stuff going on at her place tonight! Someone, wuick, grab her wallet and get her address!”
I absolutely TREASURE the looks I get from uptight, anal retentive people when I buy “strange” items.
The best was one time an old girlfriend sent me to the store.
I bought a box of tampons, a box of trojans, and a bottle of wine. The looks I got were priceless.
I just stared back at 'em with a lecherous gleam in the eye, and an evil grin. They just looked away…
Stupid and rude customers
working on holidays
finals
zits
my cats waking me up at three am (imagine being woken up by 10 pounds of fur jumping on your head)
Those TCS people
Trolls at Customer’s Suck and SAAN
flies around the house in the winter
having to wait for the Franklin Mint to ship the next ensemble for my Titanic Portrait Doll
Internet graphic thieves
being stuck in the house
Stupid giggly airhead freshman in the classes where I want to LEARN…imagine that! I’m in college to LEARN, who’d’ve thunk it?
Idiots who talk in movies. I am not a violent person, but they deserve to die.
Remember that scene in Ace Ventura when the woman migrates south whilst kissing Jim Carrey and he looks very pleased? When I saw that, two people behind me were explaining that to each other. Arrgghhh! Ok, so it was Ace Ventura, so maybe I should have expected that, but when people are so dumb they don’t understand an implied blowjob, all my faith in humanity is shaken.
High-pressure suggestive selling,t he simple form of which is “you want fries with that?”
Fazoli’s has made an art form out of suggestive selling. I’ll make an order, and at the end emphasize “that’s it, nothing else,” in an attempt to preempt the suggestive selling I usually encounter at most businesses. Doesn’t work at Fazoli’s. The person behind the counter will always respond with “would you like a fresh garden salad?” What part of “that’s it, nothing else” do you not understand?
Oh man, where do I start? I hate tourists, I hate it when four fifeteen-year-old au pair girls feel they have to walk down Oxford Street on the Saturday afternoon before Christmas, right in front of me, arms interlinked liks some friggin human wall. And I hate it when all their buddies get out of tube elevators and escalators and have to stop RIGHT THERE to read their maps and decide which one is their arse and which one their elbow. Can’t you see there’s about a million people behind you trying to get out too? Anybody who’s been to Covent Garden will know exactly what I mean. Dang, pardon the shouting.
People who walk really slowly down the halls at school, side by side, so they force everyone behind them to walk really slow and listen to their inane bullshit.
Assholes who cut you off or perform some other equally rude traffic manuever, then have the audacity to give you the finger when you beep at them.
Fucknutted fuckheads who think public roads are their own personal rap concert.
Echoing what elmwood said, the suggestive sell at fast food places pisses me off (not as much as the idiot at the computer store pushing the extended warranty, but still…). I swear that at just about every fast food place it’s the same way now. You pull up to the speaker and the first thing they ask you is if you want a damn value meal. I refuse to answer such a question, and usually just go right ahead with my order. Funny, isn’t it, how the same people who are so wordy when they’re trying to push the super-duper-sized value meal on me never, ever ask me if I’d like condiments.
“No Fear” stickers. Honestly, how much of a macho idiot do you have to be?! I saw a funny one the other day. It read:
Most my pet peeves revolve around eating. I hate having to listen to someone talk with their mouths full. It’s disgusting. I hate hearing someone eat. I hate people who chew with their mouths open. I hate it when someone leaves floaters in a drink. I hate it when people put huge bites in their mouths then try to “hurry” and chew and partially swallow so they can just agree with something said. These things just drive me nuts!!!
Other than eating my peeves are slow drivers in the fast lane, old people who don’t pay attention in stores and ram you with their carts, people who get in check-out lanes then walk away from their carts for more than just a minute and people who neither speak nor understand English in the drive-thru. Oh yeah and in movies and on tv lately there’s the trend where the actresses don’t actually open their mouths to speak. You’ll see this very practice if you watch Charmed. They keep their teeth clenched together when they talk and it bugs the shit out of me.
It’s from the CityPaper, Baltimore’s answer to the Chicago Reader (where I learned to love dear old Cecil). I’ll link it and then post the first two (hilarious fucking) paragraphs (I have this cut and saved in my scrapbook…best thing I ever read!)…
[trying to breathe quietly so as not to offend Neutron Star]
Big Number One Jumping Up and Down 'Cause It Drives Me Crazy Pet Peeve:
WASP choirs who attempt to sing Negro spirituals. The composer/arranger knows ahead of time that a collection of suburban matrons and junior executives from the First Presbyterian Church isn’t gonna know doodly ‘bout singin the blues, so he has to write in all these sixteenth notes, like “da-da-da-da-da” (where anybody else would know it’s supposed to be a big bluesy sliiiiiide…) And then they stand up there and solemnly sing every last little cotton-pickin’ sixteenth note, “da-da-da-da-da” and it sounds about as bluesy and Negro spiritual-like as a PA announcement at the airport.
The Christmas season seems to bring them out in droves. “Mary Had A Baby, O Lawd,” and evidently the choir director told them, “Okay, now, starting with the third verse, I want you to clap,” and so we’re treated to the sight of 25 blow-dried white-collar Moms and Dads stiffly swaying from side to side and earnestly clapping their hands. Yeek. Why can’t they just stick to Randall Thompson?
The biggest offender in this category (and possibly the orginator of the practice) is the Assistant Director Skinner on the X-Files. He looks like his jaw is wired shut. My wife has been bitching about this for years!
I hate when people automatically assume I’m snobby simply because I’m quiet. I’m bashful, okay? I try to be polite and say good morning and how are you and how are your kids and all that, but I don’t hang out at your desk and chatter until the supervisor chases me away. Are you so insecure that in the absence of any other tangible evidence you automatically assign to me some sort of weird superior attitude? Get over it! Everything isn’t about you!
I hate little pissant recurring medical problems that doctors can do nothing about. Canker sores? You’re on your own. Dry, peeling cuticles? Try putting lotion on them! (Duh! You think I haven’t tried everything?)
I HATE it when they boot Futurama off to make way for another football game! Gee, we’ve only had 68 football games on the air today! I know, let’s dump this stupid uncreative show and put another one on!
I hate it when the next door neighbors are oblivious to the idea that their stereo turned up to “11” is going to make the whole building shake.
I hate the fact that just in the last month, I believe I’m beginning to feel the first twinges of arthritis in the joints of the fingers of my right hand.
I hate it when some college football player scores a touch down and does one of those dances like he is the first one to ever score a touch down. *look buddy, one torn ACL and you are going to be a has been on the football field. *
I hate it when the pro foot ball players to the victory dance too.
People who call up my husband to ask him to help with something *but never fucking reciprocate. * This is why the Ujest household has an answering machine and messages for Mr. Ujest from idiots who cannot put a hammer and nail together are deleted.
I hate receiving Xmas cards with no messages or notes on them. I’m not asking for the Magna Carte or one of those brag letters, I just want it to be more personal than, Love, the Smiths.
I hate it when the snowplow knocks my mailbox off the post.
What I really *hate * is when I get together (which is nearly never) with friends (see the OP), all the women I know just bitch bitch bitch about their husbands and rag rag rag about their kids and myI’m so busy shuttling the kids to and fro that I don’t have time to do X. When I try to change the subject to something less depressing and more topical, they just stare at me.I’m not talking about political discussion or what about pork bellies futures, just something outside of Mommydom. I am not without marital/children issues, but I will be damned if I air them in a nonstop rant all fucking night.
I am capable of conversation outside of husband-bashing and I love my children/they drive me nuts.
What I want to know is, do men do the same when they see each other? Or should I just assimilate and pull my brain out my ear?
Oh, and I hate the fact that my counter tops are constantly covered with *stuff *. Where does this stuff come from?
Nacho4Sara, thanks for the link. Great, funny, oh-so-true article! My niece (an otherwise lovely person, I swear) is a movietalker, so I sent it to her–maybe it will help her reform.
Oh shit. Don’t start me on stuff!. Christ on crutches! I am trying to move & sell my house. I am giving most of the furniture to my kid for her apartment. Hmmm, you might say,you must not be left with much shit to move then, eh? Wrong! Where on Gods Green Acres did all this crap come from and why do I need it? ARRRGGGHH! I have given the Salvation Army at least 1/2 of a household in the past 10 years (when I started preparing for this move). I am giving the kid 1/2 of a household. That should leave me with
a coffee mug
3 pairs of pants
4 mock turtlenecks
3 pets.
I live up to my name now - lost in the boxes of useless crap that defy description.
I think most of my pet peeves have already been mentioned, except this one: People who think it’s the height of wit to imitate annoying sounds with their voices.
From a coworker last week: “Don’t you hate the part of this song where he goes BEN-ay; BEN-ay; BEN-ay, BEN-ay, BEN-ay BEN-ay BEN-ay BEN-ay [ad infinitum]?” What the fuck?! Was it not annoying enough when it played on the radio 5 seconds ago? Gee, the Idiot version is remarkably like the original, isn’t it?! This same person will unfailingly emit high-pitched screeches when opening a squeaky door, file cabinet, copy machine “lid”, whatever (after all, everyone finds it SO fucking amusing).
A related species: Those who find some horrible smelling detritus and shove it under your nose while exclaiming “Wow, this really stinks! Here, get a whiff!”
I especially hate my moms attidude towards my eating habits
She is a permanent calory counting diet addict and whenever I enter the kitchen she ll get a sick puppy expression and make me feel like I am the cause for everything that goes wrong in the universe by the simple fact that I am having a toast with cheese… the funny thing is that neither of us is overweight…
You wouldnt believe how silently I can enter the kitchen now - I even started to keep food in my own room, to make sure I dont have to go upstairs when I am hungry ( I ll have to learn how to make a rolling eye smiley…)
I agree on the talking in theaters. People who do that should suffer ever disgusting humilation suggested in the thread titles of the BBQ pit.
Another that drives me bugfuck is there is always a car “parked” in front of the grocery store, as one spouse waits for the other to “just grab a couple things.” **YOU’RE STILL BLOCKING THE MOTHRA-FREAKING LANE, BUTTWHIFF, EVEN IF YOU STAY IN THE CAR! MOVE YOUR PIECE OF SHIT BEFORE I PUT A CONCRETE BLOCK THROUGH YOUR WINDSHIELD AND THROUGH YOUR HEAD!!! **
When the slightest adjustment on the shower controls causes the water temperature to increase by a factor of ten; drivers who, in heavy traffic, veer into merging lanes just to get ahead of a few cars(I have a lot of driver pet peeves); people who bring their little kids to violent R rated movies; standing in line; while standing in line, when the line moves in front, but the person in front of you just stands there with a big gap in front of him; nuclear war; when crud from the mouse pad gunks up the rollers in my mouse; organ meats; the feeling of general malaise; people who block the supermarket isles with 1) their shopping carts and 2) their huge bodies, as they carefully scrutinize the processed cheese products, making it impossible to pass without a falsely-polite “Excuuuse me”; the pod people who are trying to take over the earth; improper placement of the dessert spoon; computer salespeople who know less about computers than my grocer; the written use of the word “your” in a context that requires “you’re” (as in “your welcome”); unnecessary surgery; gratuitous use of Java Applets; the cynical people who hated the latest Star Wars movie; bad beer; clowns (more of a general discomfort than a pet peeve); the international monetary fund; lipstick color names; rudeness; Snuggles, the fabric softener doll; the 8.4 GB limit on older BIOS chips; people who make a big mess in public toilets; salt that does not contain iodine; media hype; the fact that a “large” juice in a restaurant is always so tiny; telemarketers; use of the word “albeit” in casual conversation; the unnecessarily long time it takes Windows 95 to boot; injustice; guys with fannypacks; negative ions; processed meat products; boiled turnips; intolerance; Guys who spit for no reason; eccentric millionaires and their stupid hot air balloons; mayonnaise; television cooks who feel compelled to pronounce everything beyond recognition (e.g. tacos become the Mexican Taaahhkkkooh); old people who feel compelled to state their ages when they call talk shows (“I’m 72 and I believe…”); overcooked vegetables; cartoons that do not adequately explore the dichotomy between Apollonian and Dionysian impulses; stepping in vomit, boxes of serial or other food products that come half-full, murderers; self-help books; the use of single letters as replacement for whole words (as in u c what I mean?); cans of compressed air that are not adequately pressurized; contradictions; cashiers who are totally unable to make change when circumstances prevent the use of the register; paper jams; the use of verbs as nouns and visa-versa (as in “we’re having stir fry tonight”); pepper shakers that have holes too small for the pepper to get through. People who are unable to break up their thoughts into paragraphs. DOH!
