Bitter: It’s What’s For Wednesday

I dislike:

(Take a deep breath.)

  • when people call Tim Horton’s “Timmy’s”.
  • ball caps on people who are not presently playing baseball/softball.
  • super fine pens that make it feel like you are scratching through the paper.
  • when my one cat has his poo face sticking out of the litter box as soon as I walk through the apartment door. Presents!
  • knee socks that only come halfway up my calves.
  • hearing people say the word piquant.
  • deadlines.
  • when people spray floral air freshener in the bathroom at work so that it smells like a bouquet of poop and roses.
  • aspartame.
  • silk plants.
  • sitcoms on television that rely almost solely on gender stereotyping a married couple made up of fatty (the husband) and hottie (the wife).
  • the creepy little packets of oil that come with some variations of ramen noodles.
  • when the edge of the yolk in my boiled egg is grey.
  • working in a windowless environment on such a gorgeous day.
  • choking on the uncoated muscle relaxant pills I bought.
  • the smell of mothballs.
  • how the styrofoam that came in a shipment over a month ago is still sticking to the television, the dressers, and the cats.
  • warning labels that tell me not to eat things like bars of soap and ant poison.
  • that no has bothered to change the evil sound of fax machines in all these years.
  • lilacs passionately.
  • pernicious popcorn husks jammed under my gumline.
  • fake laughs.
  • control freaks with bad taste in furniture.
  • my entire set of glass plates.
  • constipation.
  • when people say they want to kick someone in the crotch.
  • when my pants are too short and I look like a fashion disaster.
  • that my glasses are so scratched up that it is difficult to see clearly.
  • the covers of romance novels on which the women are portrayed as pent-up victorian sex fiends waiting for the man to set them free.
  • (Exhale.)

    The End.