Ten Pet Peeves

Truth be told, I like to consider myself a down-to-earth happy-go-lucky guy, but I can’t deny the fact that I have a list of things that piss me off which is about as long as the list of Cher’s ex-boyfriends. To create individual blog entries on each of these issues would require me burning the midnight oil for about an entire year straight, and at the ever-increasing price of oil these days, I’d have to be fucking Donald Trump in order to afford it all. Instead, I have decided to address them all in one foul swoop of pure unadulterated bitchiness.

1) Why does everybody insist that I look at the “Big Picture”? Is there a clearer reception or something? Am I missing something by just looking at the “Little Picture”? If the Big Picture is so much better, then why do the Japanese insist on making all their video equipment so small? It’s kinda hard to see the Big Picture on a teeny television screen built into your wristwatch, small enough to insert up a squirrels ass. To me, the Little Picture would be where I’d find all the important detailed and unbiased information in the first place. Why would I want to rely on the same ‘ol Big Picture that everybody else is tuned into and relies upon? I already prefer to think outside the box as it is, so I’m not sure I could tolerate relying on only the Big Picture to keep me abreast of all life’s little twists and turns. Call me old fashioned, but ignorance is bliss. I think I will remain on the outside staring in at the warm familiar glow of the less popular Little Picture, thank you very much!

2) “Old Navy”. God, the very sound of this brand name makes my nuts retract into my chest like a prairie dog escaping a preying eagle. What exactly is “Old Navy” anyways? I instantly have images of old shriveled up Captain Highliner types with eye patches, peg legs, tattoos of naked women on their chests all swigging %150 proof rum from ceramic jugs, and whose only offensive weapon would be the stench of their own breath…certainly nothing you’ve ever want to send into active duty. As well, I highly doubt that Neon would ever be considered the standard uniform color. I find it hard to believe that Admiral Nelson wore a day glow orange pullover hoody while sailing into the Battle of Trafalgar.

3) I simply can't stand people who put the model of their vehicle in their special personalized license plates, like: "BEAMER", or "COOL CHEVY". Why do they feel they have to further point out what kind of car they are driving? Do they think the rest of us are so totally stupid and oblivious to the goings on around us that we couldn't work it out for ourselves what they are driving just by witnessing them driving it? Do they think we actually give two shits what they're driving? Anyone who does puts the model of their vehicle on their license plate should be tied to the bumper of their own car and be dragged across a field of broken glass until they can come up with something more imaginative and a little less insulting to the rest of us.

4) The Osbournes. It’s about as it's about as entertaining as having mutant earwigs crawl up into your ear canal and proceed to eat out your brain. It seems to have developed into a television show about a day in the life of two spoiled rotten idiot children with bad hair whose most significant accomplishment, had their father not been Ozzy Osbourne, would have been being made 'Employee of the Month' at Taco Bell.

5) Why do people say that it's “okay to talk to yourself, but it's a sign of mental illness if you answer yourself” What the fuck? Why would even talk to yourself if you weren’t looking to generate some kind of beneficial answer from deep within in the first place? You may as well be talking to a brick wall in that case for all the helpful conclusions you’d arrive at. Personally, I would be more concerned with my own sanity if I DIDN'T get an answer from myself because then I would know that no one actually cared about me, including my own conscience. Now THAT would suck!

6) People who mow their lawns on the weekend before 9:00AM. They should just be shot and left to rot on their precious lawns as fertilizer for disrupting the beauty sleep of every other normal lazy person with a life that lives in the same neighborhood. Couldn’t they occupy themselves during the early morning hours with something a little more acceptably quiet than running an obnoxious gas-powered engine? Something like needlepoint?

7) Men wearing mesh shirts. There should be a law prohibiting men from wearing any shirts made of mesh or any see-through “peek-a-boo” material of any kind. The sight of another man’s nipples, unless they are at the beach or fighting inside a squared circle, is just plain disturbing. Considering they are a functionless body part like the hubcaps on a ’57 Chevy, any man openly flaunting his nipples in a see through mesh shirt should have alligator clips hooked up to those exposed nipples and have 1200 volts of electricity run through them until they are left like strips of bacon sizzling under mosquito netting.

8) Is it mandatory for Fast Food Restaurants to have only gay men work the Drive-Thru Window? I’ve seen many girls, but each time I have my order taken by a male employee he is inevitably as flaming as the ‘BK Broiler’ I am ordering. I am guessing that only a gay man would be able to tolerate the fast paced detailed service standards of the Drive-Thru Window, as all the other straight heterosexual males would be content to work back in the kitchen cooking meat over an open flame and satisfying their primal ingrained warm-blooded male instincts. I wonder if there’s a special training class for the men in order to “gay up” their feminine qualities by over-pronouncing their vowels, walking with a swagger, and giggling like school girls whenever anyone orders “extra pickle”?

9) Why do people leave long-winded answering machine messages requesting the caller to leave only “a brief message after the ‘beep’”? The majority of the time, the left outgoing message on their machine is longer than the inevitable two second message I am going to leave requesting that they return my call. Sometimes, an entire generation will have passed before the message is complete and I will be old and gray, retired, and have forgotten why the fuck I was calling in the first place. How can I be “brief” when you request me to leave my name, phone number, time I called, blood type, my pets name, any plans I may have for the weekend, my view on the Global Warming situation, my life’s ambitions, hopes, dreams, etc.? Why do you need all this unnecessary information for a “brief message”? Just give me a return call when you get home for Christ sake, you asshole! What ever happened to: “Hi. We’re not home right now. Leave a message after the ‘beep’”?

10) Ants. There is no creature on earth as vile and contemptible as ants * . Not those little teeny-weeny ants that you see on the sidewalks, but those big, black, menacing motherfuckers that will saddle your cat and bronco bust him around the apartment when you’re not home. Nothing will kill them or successfully ward them off. Your typical ant trap seems only to serve as summer vacation homes. In fact, I am sure that I saw little patio umbrellas open inside and little ant waitresses taking drink orders from other ants reclined in lawn chairs. At times, I’m afraid of being enslaved by these mutant ants and being forced to serve as their giant cabana boy. Even the “Antex” poison has little to no effect on them, and I suspect that they actually love it and bring it back to serve to their Queen on hot summer afternoons with a little grenadine and cut lime wedges stolen from my refrigerator.

* Well, maybe Carrot Top.