I like less than half of those things less well than I should.
I also hate talking on the phone.
And I hate haters!
Parenthood. If fact I am bawling my eyes out right now in frustration over my children’s behavior. Most of the time I don’t joy in being a mother, and I feel guilty as hell because I feel this way.
Wow. I had never really thought of that. Now I can add ants to things I irrationally hate, like sprinkles.
I really do hate sprinkles, especially the way they ruin perfectly good food. Sprinkles are not welcomed in my house.
Moved to IMHO.
Football
and all the PURPLE decals, flags, jackets, t-shirts, blowups and flamingos that goes with it.
Drive past the light rail station on game day and it’s a friggin sea of purple. Purple flags attached to cars. Purple decals attached to windows.
What finally put me over the edge on hating football was the purple flamingos.
I had to take fb off my phone because every time there was a game my phone was blowing up from all the comments, from all the people who suspend all of lifes activities so they can comment on every friggin play.
I am come close to unfriending people over all their comments on football.
The only good thing about football is it’s the best time in the world to go shopping because everybody else is home
watching football.
Other people don’t understand the obsession with guns
I don’t get the obsession with football.
Movies.
Life
Musicals.
Seafood.
Salads.
Ronald Reagan.
Michelle Obama’s sexual attractiveness.
Performing cunnilingus.
Body hair.
Not wearing deodorant.
Both genders as sexual partners.
I could go on and on…
cilantro
Basketball. It’s practically a religion here in Indiana, and I can’t stand it. I’ll watch just about any other sport, but not basketball.
Dancing
And watching dancing
Small talk.
Mushrooms.
Getting up earlier than necessary.
Watching sports.
Shaving with a straight razor.
Drinking coffee that isn’t black.
Twitter.
Getting drunk.
Being gluttonous.
Candy.
Restaurant dining.
I really want to be cool when it comes to food. But frugality often wins out over my desire to eat at “nicer” restaurants. And when I convince myself to go to a nice restaurant, my fear of expensive disappointments frequently causes me to choose “safer” menu items. The end result is that I don’t eat a lot of different things.
I will eat anything that comes near my mouth, mind you. I just don’t enjoy the exploration of taste sensations enough to pay for it.
Many people enjoy a sex life. Since I don’t have one, I don’t enjoy it.
Foot massages. Not my bag.
About 25% of the population can’t appreciate cilantro, because it tastes like soap, or worse, to them. It appears to be a genetic thing.
I derive no pleasure whatsoever from other people enjoying themselves. The only fleeting sense of sharing-in-the-moment happens if I get to punch them.
Reality shows
Rap/hip hop
Loud cars
Anchovies
Nobody likes Dane Cook. Also, The Big Bang Theory is probably the most-fashionable-to-deride show on the air.