Simply has to be brides. I am well over brides. And no, it’s not a jealousy thing; it is because they, like new parents, are incredibly dull whilst thinking they’re all fascinating and wonderful. I really do not care if the bridesmaids’ knicker elastic doesn’t match the border on the table decoration and the groomsmen’s buttonholes. I especially do not care, and given how little I do care this isn’t saying much, if I don’t know you very well and you’re organising it whilst we, or should I say, I work. No really, still not caring about how much the frock material costs by the millimetre. If it’s so fucking expensive then don’t have fourteen bridesmaids. And, for fuck’s sake, don’t whinge to me about how much it all costs. The law does not state that to wed someone you need purchase a thousand dollar cake, or have four hundred guests, or wear million dollar a centimetre genuine hand made French lace from the twelfth century. Last I heard it was an official and some witnesses – rings are optional [tho if you’re ugly I hear that paper bags are quite the thing]. So, quite frankly, to brides everywhere: grow up, get the fuck over yourselves and FOR THE LOVE OF YOUR REALLY FUCKING IRRITATING GODS SHUT UP.
Being ignored. I don’t like to be ignored. It’s really not something I do to people purposely. I certainly do not use it when they’ve pissed me off. It doesn’t get anywhere. Actually that’s not true. It is a fucking awesome way to tick me off and turn me into a head case. And if you think I need help with that then you’re a whole lot stupider than I thought. So if you want to really tick me off then by all means ignore me but remember than nothing creates more bile. And I’m not one for holding the yicky stuff in.
Not being an actual psychopath. I know there’ll be disagreement on this point but, honestly, if I were a genuine psychopath I’d have killed an old lady by now or at least put in some serious torture-of-small-animals time. Were I a genuine psychopath I’d have figured out a better way of dealing with the lying, sycophantic old bitch that I work with. Preferably one that didn’t leave fingerprints. I haven’t and so am quite at a loss. Fuck I wish I were a psychopath.
Look, aren’t three enough? It’s all more more more with you people. Damn I hate ‘you people’. Also, seriously fed up with having to deal with everyone else’s prejudice; it’s bullshit and I don’t want to be drawn on it. Please stop assuming that I totally lack all racial/cultural/ethnic sensitivity because I’m an Australian of a mongrel European background. And also, please stop with the faux pas in my presence – I’m cringing for you, fucktard.