If you attract mosquitoes, thunderstorms, and bears when you go camping like I do, it just might 
Decaf== I love the smell of coffee but if it doesn’t pack a charge, why not drink something that actually tastes good? How come coffee doesn’t ever taste as good as it smells, anyway? (There’s another thing–I used to just love the smell of somebody else’s freshly lit Marlboro. That also smelled better than cigarettes ever tasted. I never get to smell that anymore.)
Perfumed deodorant– I want no smell emanating from my pits, that’s the whole idea.
9 to 5 jobs --Oh, I know what this means, I just don’t know anyone who’s ever had a job that actually started at nine and they got to walk out at five. Maybe on the coasts?
Things hanging from the rear-view mirror– As a kid I put my graduation tassel around the rear-view mirror, which is what was done in those days. It drove me nuts, swinging back and forth. I have since seen leis, pendants with crystals, car deodorizers, garters, and of course fuzzy dice, and I cannot fathom how people with these things dangling and waving around and in the case of crystals, reflecting light, can actually drive and not have wrecks. (On the other hand I can talk on the phone, eat, drink, put on makeup, read the map/directions to where I’m going, with no problem.)
Boneless ribs– Recently advertised by Safeway. Yeah, I know what they’re probably talking about but think about it, boneless ribs.
Good one! I tried a small pendant there once and it drove me insane. Yet you see people driving around six pounds of Mardi Gras beads. Wha…?
Worse yet, tons of stuffed animals on the package shelf. I wonder how they’ll feel in an accident when they come hurdling towards you at 70mph?
People That Don’t Do Anything. (at least not anything constructive)
At my age these people normally exist because of large amounts of grants by dead relatives or rich parents. Some of them go to school and that’s it and others go to work and that’s it. Often they will do either of those part time and only because their parents forced them. If it was up to them, they would live off their money and just lay around the house all day eating, watching tv and playing video games. I don’t understand how they can not want to do anything. Even if I knew I was going to get 10k everyday for the rest of my life, I would go to school, start a bunch more hobbies and probably work. I just finished a semester of school in which I worked and went to school full time. I thought I would take a week break before I got a second job to take me through the summer and I am bored of being at home already. I don’t see how people can sit in front of the computer or tv screen all day and not get bored and want to go do something.
And People That Do Everything
Don’t they sleep? They work full time, go to school full time, play a sport, do community service and are always able to party. I have a friend like this who says she only sleeps 5 hours a night in order to fit it all in. If I slept only 5 hours a night, I would be killing people on the fourth day.
People with tatoos are to shy to tell you they want you to lick their bodies. 
SolGrundy
i see your point. i got side-tracked answering your post however, my original post refers to the view that a person have to be religious or at least believe in some type of new age, cosmic forces, afterlife etc. i think you’ll agree with me that this point of view is misguided.
Height matters here. I’m 5’3", and don’t mind things hanging from my rearview mirror, because they’re not in my line of sight. But don’t put anything on the dashboard, because the reflection of it in the windshield will drive me batty.
Re: “Midwest fashion sense”. I don’t get how some people don’t understand that when you live someplace that’s cold six or more months out of the year, where you have to shovel your driveway and walk through snow, you have to dress a certain way. I once knew a woman whose company transferred her from Atlanta to Detroit (she was in Pittsburgh when I met her) and she had a lot to say about how (allegedly) badly the women in Detroit dressed. “It was a real culture shock! I had to frump up to be accepted!” Bitch. I guess you never learned to appreciate colors and pattens. No, if it’s not out of the J. Peterman catalog, it’s “frumpy”. (And I hope your co-workers were laughing at you the day you found out you couldn’t wear pumps in November.)
—I don’t get people who think they should lie to someone when they’re trying to cheer them up. If their situation is bad, it’s bad, and telling them it’s all good is not helping them.
—I don’t get elderly or even middle-aged people who cannot accept the fact that society has changed since they were young.
—I don’t get people who tell teenagers that their problems are not worth worrying about, because when they get to be adults, they’ll have real problems. If you don’t deal with certain things while you’re still malleable enough to change, you’ll just be carrying that baggage into adulthood. Then you’ll have problems, all right.
—I don’t get people who dwell on a celebrity’s death instead of the way they lived. There are Elvis fans who plan ceremonies for the anniversary of his death. Like they’re glad it happened? Idolize him if you like, but getting excited about his death is ghoulish.
—I don’t get people who have their dead pets stuffed and mounted. It’s tacky and disrespectful. When your husband dies, are you gonna have him stuffed and prop him up in the Barcalounger?
—I don’t get expensive jewelry. Nor do I understand women who extort expensive jewelry from men.
—I don’t get people who think that because I have straight hair and glasses, that I must be in desperate need of a makeover. I’ve tried contacts; my eyes are too deep-set. Long, straight hair is classic. And I’m not gonna wear high heels. And my lips are not “too big”, either, they’re sensual.
—I don’t get people who do everything they can to make themselves noticeable (body art, flashy jewelry, goth or punk attire) and then ask, “What you lookin’ at?”
—I don’t get people who think that the taller children in a group are to be congratulated, as if they’ve achieved something merely by following their genetic code.
—I don’t get people who refuse to admit that athletes can have any intelligence at all. That there are some who don’t use their intelligence off the field, I’ll grant you, but you think a stupid person could memorize plays and think on his feet better and faster than the opposition? A lot of these people doing the criticism aren’t as smart as they think they are, anyway. And plenty of college athletes actually earn their degrees and use them.
Ok, yeah.
I hate cats because of the following reasons:
[ul]
[li] I’m a bird person. I *hate * seeing birds mauled and ripped to shreds by outdoor cats. It makes me cry. No, it wasn’t the cat’s natural inclination. I mean, it was, but you’re feeding the damn thing, aren’t you? It doesn’t need to be hunting down little birds. Cats kill for pleasure and practice, not just out of hunger. [/li][li] I am severely allergic to cats. Their dander makes me sneeze, sniffle, and be utterly miserable. Well, that can be cured by an ordinary allergy pill. But when they scratch me, it swells up, inflames, and hurts. Allergy pills don’t help with that.[/li][li] I can’t stand aloof, stuck-up, snotty creatures such as most cats are.[/li][li] Did I mention the birds? OK, how about vole intestines all over my front walk, with the vole body a few feet away. I fucking hate outdoor cats. I hate people who keep outdoor cats. Not only is it inconsiderate to everyone else, I firmly believe it’s inconsiderate to the cat. That cat is going to saunter across the road and someone’s going to run over it and then feel guilty about running over someone’s pet. When it was the owner’s fault for letting them out in the first place.[/li][/ul]
All that said, I have no problems with people having cats. I’ve stayed over my friend’s house who has a cat. I just dose myself up with allergy medicine. I feel the same way about them as I do these days about kids: small doses are bearable, but anymore than that and I feel like kicking them. (Kids & Cats. And yes, I am kidding, I’d never really kick either).
…
As for your other question. Well, I work for a not-for-profit and believe you me we’d love to just arrange for everyone to send in/bring in their money instead of spending all of our time organizing a HUGE Walk. Unfortunately, people demand something for their money…you can’t just expect them to give, I’ve found.
[QUOTE=Anaamika]
[li] Did I mention the birds? OK, how about vole intestines all over my front walk, with the vole body a few feet away. I fucking hate outdoor cats. I hate people who keep outdoor cats. Not only is it inconsiderate to everyone else, I firmly believe it’s inconsiderate to the cat. That cat is going to saunter across the road and someone’s going to run over it and then feel guilty about running over someone’s pet. When it was the owner’s fault for letting them out in the first place.[/li][/QUOTE]
Not to mention that a lot of birds, like specifically pigeons, are swarming with disease, and if a cat kills a pigeon, it’s just exposed itself to og knows what. And it could infect the rest of the household as well. But if you point this out to the owner, all they hear is, “Your cat did something bad!” and you’re “picking” on them.
People who base their homebuying decisions on the color of their potential neighbors’ skin. My mom recently went through a great deal of trouble (long story) to show a soon-to-be on the market condo to a friend of hers. This friend loved the location, and was impressed with the space, but stated that she would not allow her daughter to live under black people. Exact words.
Interesting points about cats.
For the longest time I thought anybody who doted on cats was deliberately perverse, mainly due to my limited–and acutely painful–experience. My flagrantly neurotic aunt had a (natch) equally hostile, sneaky feline that made made hash of my childhood attempt at being a good guest. And my ankles.
It was a symbiotic thing. My ditzy aunt was Miss Manners on crack, and fond of equally stiff furniture skirted in faux silk. Good children kept their short legs firmly planted on the floor, knees together.
Unfortunately her wacko cat (white fur, crossed blue eyes and the temperment of rabid badger) hated everyone and lived its terrorist skulking under furniture. Any human feet, no matter how juvenile or polite, got swiped by lightning-fast claws. For years I associated cats with bloody, itching ankles. Amongst the general misery, I didn’t even realize I was–and am–allergic to cats. Stuffed sinuses, itching skin and suffused eyes were just additional social shortcomings.
It took a long time to separate the cat-specific hostility from the general species loveableness. I fell slam in love with a stray Maine coon cat (RIP, Dew) and part of it finally made sense.
I don’t get people who spout off Napoleon Dynamite quotes, and think they’re being funny. It’s really sad, actually.
Or women who wear a tight T-shirt with very small printing across the chest and wonder why people look at their boobs.
I do understand them 'cause they love to be looked at, but what I don’t get is that they feign to be annoyed, cursed hypocrits!
I have a full-leg tattoo. I don’t understand people who will break their necks to look at it without letting me see them look. Do you think I will hold you down and give you one if I see you looking?
I’d rather look lascivously at your leg than stare at the tattoo.
Where does this happen? 
The closest I can think of is sometimes in school we were lines up by height, but in no way were the taller ones somehow congratulated for being tall.
Family gatherings, in my experience.