Littering. It makes me feel stabby. Just as bad is that thing that happens when the litter bin is full up - people balancing their refuse on the top (where it stays for about half a second before falling to the ground), or tossing it on the ground next to the bin - sure, the bin shouldn’t be overflowing, but that doesn’t license you to be an asshole.
That’s rich, coming from someone in Bawlmer… 
::d&r::
In line with the cell phone thing: When I, a living breathing human being, are talking to you and your cell phone rings and you immediately answer and start a conversation with the voice on the other end while I stand there like a reject.
Lately when this happens I just leave with saying a word. If you’d rather talk on your cell than interact with a human being, I have nothing to say to you.
When guys make really really crude comments in front of women - it’s crass, it’s ugly, and it’s unnecessary - don’t be such a freakin’ pig.
Having more than 4,600 posts on any message board.
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! 
The tattooing of shaven heads. It betokens some dystopian futureworld where civilized people are killed and eaten.
And how about toilet paper or paper towels on the floor? WTF?!! TP goes in the toilet, how the hell do you get random pieces stewn around the stall? If you drop some pick it up! Same for paper towels. What, you were drying your hands and decided the garbage can two feet to your left was too inconvenient so you just dropped it where you stood? What the hell?
Here’s a new rule: When you enter a stall and see nothing on the floor, nothing on the seat, and nothing put clear water in the toilet, turn around and look at it before you leave. It should look exactly like it did when you arrived. If not you are a filthy filthy pig and you have a serious problem!
About women or just crude comments in general?
Both, but mainly about women.
Buying “celeb” gossip magazines.
Voting on “X Factor” or “Dancing on Ice” or any other TV audience vote.
Reading horoscopes.
Grounds for an instant slap in my book.
Discussing one’s intestinal distress (or triumphs!) at work, or with anyone who is not listed as a beneficiary on your life insurance policy.
Reminds me of a time being stuck in traffic for 2 hours with the road closed ahead for “accident scene investigation”. I guess if I’d forgone eating - I wouldn’t have had to take that shit in a box right there on driver’s seat.
PSA: Socks serve as toilet paper in a crunch.
A-men.
A friend told me those short pieces of toilet paper are used by the squeamish/ very hygenienic among us to cover the toilet seat. The pieces will inevitably fall off either during all that shifting around, or by the brushing past of skirts/pants after getting up again. The person, being squeamish/ very hygenienic to begin with, feels it is too dirty to touch the bathroom floor with their hands and so doesn’t pick up the strewn paper.
Sign me up for spitting. There is simply no need.
Around here, I’ve noticed a trend of Hispanics spitting across doorways. WTF! I’ve been almost nailed twice while leaving shops.
Agree with you, but still the OP certainly has a nice way of expressing himself/herself. A banquet table a motley fool thrown in, forsooth.
Oh, another one: hitting or loudly berating kids in public places. I’m not a fan of spanking, period, but I think that within certain parameters it’s something best left to the individual parent (and it’s a topic for another thread, another day). However, every time I see some mom smacking her four year old kid’s ass in the Kroger (usually while holding them practically aloft by the other arm), I want to grab her and break one of her wrists.
Whoa dude! TMI! TMI!
Now that I’ve gotten over disgust, I’ve moved on to amazement. I mean the logsitics aloone is pretty impressive.
I have had to pee in an empty gatorade bottle while stuck in traffic, but at least a have plumbing that can aim.
Chewing gum with your mouth open. For me, there is no quicker way for an attractive or ordinary looking person to make themselves look utterly vacantly bovine.
Doesn’t the parenting manual require that parents bug their kids about chewing with their mouth open (along with no singing at the dinner table)?
Agreed.
Once in a while I have had to take the bus, for whatever reason. I don’t mind, but there is another bus stop across the street, for buses going the opposite way. Sometimes when I am at the bus stop there is a man & a woman there with their three kids.
First of all the kids are kind of little hellions.
But as if that wasn’t bad enough, the father is a jackass. I hear him from across the street screaming obscenities at these kids. They are maybe 9, 7, and 5. “You fucking dispshit, cut that shit out!” Stuff like that.
The mother does nothing. She doesn’t get yelled at, but she doesn’t yell at the kids or stop them or yell at the dad either. She just sits complacently as if that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
:mad:
Spitting: you deserve a beating. With a parking meter.
Shooting snot rockets on the sidewalk: you should be forced to lick it up and then have your face scraped across the cement…
Women doing their makeup while driving: hope you hit a pothole. The Bobby Brown eyeliner will look so attractive when it is jammed through your cornea.
Noisy eaters: I’m glad that you enjoy your meal but I don’t want to hear every slurp, burp, gulp and chomp. Close your mouth, chew quietly. Don’t take T-Rex size bites. And for fuck’s sake, don’t hum as you eat. And, tied in to this…
Eating on the train: The commuter train line I ride used to have a bar car where you could buy a beer or mixed drink and some chips (at outrageous prices). That’s gone but people still bring booze and chips or candy. That’s OK and isn’t too bad as long as they clean up after themselves (most don’t, though). What really torches my testes is the people who bring some takeout meal that is dripping with sauces and smells like burnt pig shit dipped in vomit. Eat that mess at home, not on the train. If you do it again, I’ll make you eat the urinal cakes at the train station.
iPod singers: Yea, you! You’ve got your favorite songs blasting into your ears. It’s not bad enough that you turned the volume up so much that I can hear it from 10 feet away, but you have decided to be the backup singer for Britney, as well. When I heard the words, “Hit me baby” come out of your mouth, you have no idea how much willpower it took to not follow through.
Porno commuters: the guys (usually) who see nothing wrong with bringing “adult” entertainment on the train. You want to flip through a Hustler or watch Rod Johnson: Ass Master on your DVD player, wait until you get home. Were you planning on spanking it while you were sitting on the 4:35 train? Just because you’re sitting on the upper level does not make your choice of entertainment invisible. This applies to the ladies reading “romance novels” with pictures of musclebound men on the covers. I see you drooling over the books, rubbing your thighs together as the story of Chad pulling Clarissa to his glistening chest and ravaging her in his boudoir makes your nether regions moisten. Show a little restraint, people! Save your erotica for at home.