Beeps.
I hate the beeping of a vehicle in reverse with a purple passion, and I want to eviscerate every single person who uses those stupid goddamn cell phone walkie talkie things.
I also hate my stove and dishwasher, because they keep beeping after I’m fully aware they’re done.
I love my husband and I know he’s wicked smart. However, he pronounces the first syllable of “ibuprofen” (aka Advil) to rhyme with “bib”. Long ago I resolved not to try to correct him, because, like, does it really matter? and how rude is it to correct your best beloved, anyway? But the horrible part is… I’ve started to say it that way too. :eek:
It’s /ˈaɪbjupɹofɛn/ dammit! And I love you.
You know, maybe he’s doing it to be funny. My husband misused succulent for a decade before I screamed, “How can scratching your back be succulent?” It was only then than he confessed he was kidding around. So, call him on it.
What does make me mad is when he sits on the sofa smacking his lips really loudly. Smack! Smack! Smack! I don’t even think he’s eating anything most of the time.
Just from context, no, I don’t think so in his case. That’s never been his kind of humor. He’s a linguist and takes great pride in pronouncing things correctly in several languages. Plus, he hates medications and only asks for the stuff if he’s lousy with pain. Which is another reason for me not to fuss about it.
Other stuff he does that makes me mad, like absentmindedly putting empty boxes back in the cupboard or milk cartons with a teaspoon of milk left back in the fridge, I do call him on! It’s not irrational to be pissed when you think there’s enough for a bowl of delicious cereal but have only been FOOLED into thinking so.
My grandmother takes forever to park her car. She has to find the perfect spot, close to the store, but not to close to the shopping carts or other people’s cars. God forbid she get a scratch!
She pulls in, stops. Inches forward. Checks her mirrors. Inches forward a little more while turning the wheel. Stops. Checks mirror. Oops, not good. Backs up a bit, checks mirror, turns wheel, inches forward, hits brakesinchforwardbrakeinchforwardbrak - JUST PARK ALREADY!
Stuff that is misspelled. (Gaudere, stay away! :))
The other day on the damn Food Network they had an ad for some show or another, and they spelled “feisty” FIESTY. WTF? Don’t these people check this stuff? I about blew a gasket, and my husband was laughing at me. He said, “You really ought to write them a letter or something.”
I just don’t know what this world is coming to.
Women who talk on their cell phones while doing their business in a public restroom. It makes me so, so angry to hear the woman in the next stall to me discussing dinner plans or whatever when I am trying to pee in peace.
Yes. Yes! I have a habit of calling attention to every one I see, too. I’m sure it gives my husband a royal pain in the ass.
I just can’t understand why people wouldn’t care enough to check!
Lack of proofreading. The new pizza place in town put a flyer on every door which proudly declares: “We Delivery”.
The sound of a vacuum cleaner. My wife breaks out the vacuum any time she gets nervous, stressed, sad or into any other unpleasant mood. She vacuums with a sneer on her face and will not respond to any type of normal communication while she is doing it. It doesn’t matter if it is 7:00 pm or 5:00 am. I have yanked the plug out of the wall on more than a few occasions. Our house is immaculate already even though we have two young kids. We were both home yesterday with the flu and I had to start a fight and tell her that if she turned the vacuum on, I would cut of the cord and I meant it. She claimed that she didn’t plan on vacuuming but I don’t believe it.
This is not irrational. And it pisses me off too. (Well, not your local pizza place, but failure to proofread in general.)
Yes! This is exactly the feeling I’m talking about! Rage with no outlet. Very frustrating.
Although I’m a loud sneezer (ended up with a detached rib once as a result), I get angry at a co-worker of mine that does the exact opposite.
I mean that he smothers his sneezes to the point that you can actually hear his spine compress instead.
And when one of his eyes pops out as a result of holding a sneeze in, he’d better not come running to me.
'Cause the only thing he’s going to hear is “Gezuhndheit”.
Thought of a couple more.
People who use “lol” as punctuation. “I’m going to the store lol” sigh Unfortunately, since I’m a World of Warcraft addict, I encounter this on a daily basis.
“alot”. I don’t know why this bothers me so much, but it does. It’s two words, people!
My husband’s snoring. I know he can’t help it but I feel like beating him to death with the clock radio every freakin’ night. It ticks me off even thinking about it. Shut the HECK UP or go sleep on the couch.
Husband turning on the TV in the bedroom in the middle of the night. There is a freakin’ mirror on my side of the bed which I face when sleeping, so I get not only the light flickering from the TV screen, but it’s effing reflection in the mirror which goes right into my face. IF YOU WANNA WATCH TV GO THE HELL DOWNSTAIRS AND LET ME SLEEP YOU INCONSIDERATE ASS.
Snoring.
People who interrupt me when I’m reading.
I could go on but won’t - I get irrationally mad about a number of things.
I hate that my mom talks so much, even with the TV on or if you’re trying to read quietly. In fact, she’s the type of person who has TVs on in several rooms, sound blaring and doesn’t really notice. She’s not deaf, so I once asked her why and she told me she doesn’t like it when it’s quiet. It makes her nervous. So she has to fill that void with mindless chatter. (“So, overly, I thought I’d have salmon for dinner when Mark and Wendy come over. They’ll be over in about three weeks at 6 p.m. Then I thought I’d make some popovers, too. Mmm, yummy yums!” (Did I mention that her use of yummy-yums bugs me, too?)).
I also hate it when my husband won’t get the hell out of the house in the morning already. My husband and I take turns getting our son to daycare in the morning because we both work. Since I’m still the primary caregiver at home, I rarely get time to myself when I’m not working out or cleaning, so on mornings when my husband is taking our son to daycare and I don’t have an 8:30 meeting, I sometimes get 10 minutes in a quiet house alone. As long as my husband actually gets out the door, that is. “Say bye bye to mommy again! (for the fifth time)!” I kiss kid, kiss husband. “Bye, guys! Have a great day. See you this afternoon!” A few minutes later, they’re back. “Say bye bye!” By now, I’m gritting my teeth with a grimace of a smile pasted across my face. “Bye, guys. Better go - you’ll be late! See you tonight.” Husband comes back…again. Goddamnit. Must reign in murderous rage. It’s good that after 7 years of living together he still wants to hang out with me, but still. There goes that 10 minutes. Again. Grrr…
Did you just throw something out in my wastebasket? I don’t throw my stuff out in YOUR wastebasket! Get out of my cubicle! Bwaaaaah! I’m not crazy!
You are worried about his potentially compressed spine and popped eyeball when you literally *detached a freakin’ rib?? *
Silent sneezers are as strange to me as scream sneezers, but a lot less annoying.
I just wanted to point out the juxtaposition of your username and this post. 
(The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?) I have sympathy for you, though. Your mom sounds like the kind of person Douglas Adams was writing about.
The thing that irritates me is my husband blowing his nose. I don’t know how anyone can blow their nose THAT loudly - it’s like a freakin’ trumpet, and with his allergies, he blows his nose about a hundred times a day. And always first thing in the morning, in the bedroom, while I’m still trying to sleep. He goes to the bathroom five seconds later - why can’t he blow his nose in there, where the sound’ll be muffled by a door?
My mother does those screamy sneezes, and it irritates me and my brother both. She claims that she “can’t help it!” and wishes that she could. I think covering her mouth and nose at least would be a good start if she really wished to be less loud. :rolleyes:
I get irrationally angry when people use the word “couple” to mean something other than two. “Few” is a perfectly serviceable word, so why do people insist on saying couple when they mean three or even more?! :mad: