Ten Things I Hate

1. Broccoli

2. Men in bicycle shorts with no bicycle in sight, nor do they look like they’ve touched a bicycle.

3. People at buffets reaching over the food, exposing it to something dropping off their armpit and into the food.

4. That really slow lady at the concert venue the other night that took twenty minutes to fill a cup with Diet Coke.

5. Warm, flat beer.

6. Rotting railroad ties with gross, malformed, squirming bug things. Bug things that touch me and make me retch.

7. The fact that I’m afraid of bug things.

8. People who protest things but can’t support their reason for protest.

9. People who support something but can’t explain why they support it.

10. Monkeys who wear clothes. They’re uppity and think that we somehow should show them respect. As if I’ll say, “Oh look at the cute little monkey in human clothes doing cute little human things.” Please. He’s still a lesser primate and I deserve his subservience. And you know what? He should be my butler, not some sort of high ranking governmental official. I mean, monkeys in office? Okay, I can understand that. But this particular monkey isn’t that smart and when cornered on an issue he throws certain things at you. And the way he talks to me, like I’m an idiot. I don’t even believe him half the time. He’s a talking monkey after all, and talking monkeys, for the most part, are untrustworthy. But, perhaps, what’s most disturbing about this particular monkey is how low slung his pants are. Like he’s a member of Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. I hate him. Don’t talk to this monkey if you can avoid it.

Oooh look. My medication is here. Sweet medicine that makes the flying trolls go away.