I think living in England might have something to do with my new hates – here’s a current list:
Women with rolls on their necks. I know, inner beauty, blah blah. If you’ve let a roll sneak up and begin to strangle you around the neck, you’ve been spending more time eating than you have spent working out. I saw three yesterday alone.
People who let boogers fly out of their noses when speaking to you. This is unacceptable. Proper booger management must be employed before speaking to me.
American television. It’s all very bad. Which isn’t to say UK television is good, it’s just better than American television, like a slap in the face is better than a punch in the ear.
Stop lights. Stop signs. Speed Bumps.
Unduly tan and overly bubbly real estate agents who say “Shurrruh” randomly. I can only assume it means “sure”, which still doesn’t make sense when showing a house.
Office cubicles. Seriously, they kill production. People hide in their caves until someone has built up enough motivation to send them something to work on. They stifle any social interaction. You can sit three feet away from somebody for years, and never even give them a “hello, I acknowledge your existance” nod in the morning.
American television, again. ABC is going to show the World Broadcast Premier of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, which actually, really, just means “Movie playing wherever ABC broadcasts, which really only means in the States”. “World Broadcast” is idiotic. I never noticed it before going to the UK.
People who aspire to look, act, and be like gang bangers. So you spend four years in higher education, get a job that pays good, then you buy a car with axle exstensions and low profile tires. For your Ford Focus. You wear a bandana under a trucker hat, sag your pants, wear a studded wrist band, and try your best to look like you’re out of the ‘hood. And you’re as white as my inner thigh. No disrespect to real gang bangers who would probably like to escape the ’hood and get as far away from it as possible.
That’s all for now.