I can’t take it anymore!!

I’m kidding. Seriously, here’s an on-going list of things that rub me the wrong way (as in friction!).
Realistically, I’m hoping to eventually remove one or two.

My Wife’s Bath Towels
For some inexplicable reason, my wife, as her mother before her, keeps bath towels until they practically disintegrate. Then, when the towels are no longer usable for drying yourself after a shower, they gain new life as dust rags. Currently, there’s a threadbare bath towel in the linen closet you can use as a strainer.

Self-Serving GG’s
Occasionally, my lovely family has a habit of self-serving gift giving. That is, they purchase what they need and disguise it as a gift for me. Example: my wife and son chipped in and purchased a pneumatic car jack, which my sometimes car engine-tinkering son needed. They gave it to me one year as a Christmas gift. The number of times my son has used it: 1,347,337. The number of times I’ve used it: 0. I rest my case.

Radio Station Traffic Reports
Radio stations that allow tractor trailer air horn sound effects during a traffic report should be against FCC regulations. That’s the last thing us listeners need to hear as we’re trying to safely negotiate our way from three lanes into one (because of the daily, obligatory, jack-knifed truck… which is another story in itself). My question to the geniuses that put these traffic report intros together: don’t you realize that most people during morning drive-time are listening to the radio IN THEIR CARS?? Heart-pounding, scary, truck horn sound-effects we don’t need.

Joke-buster Restaurant Wait Staff
Something needs to be done about the wait staff in restaurants that stop by to check on you 47 times during the first course alone.  That being said, checking on us as we negotiate the difference between Koa Pad Lin Gee and Shui Zhu Yu is one thing. But, I will not be held responsible the next time a waiter asks how we’re all doing, again, just as I was about to deliver the punch line to the most hilarious joke ever. That soon-to-be explosive-with-laughter moment is interrupted, now gone and impossible to get back. Memo to the American Restaurant Association:  please make it mandatory for all wait staff in restaurants to take joke-interruption sensitivity training. Thank you.

Listen to me, you new generation of elephantine-sized backpack people: when you wear a backpack that’s large enough to fit only one of them in the cargo-hold of a plane, you need to be more aware of its presence while wearing it. When you turn your body while wearing that monstrosity in a crowd of people, IT SLAMS POOR INNOCENT PEOPLE WHO’RE MINDING THEIR OWN BACKPACK-LESS BUSINESS. And it’s USUALLY ME!! Thank you so much for your cooperation.

Political Statements from Actors
Some individuals in this make-believe world might be good at what they do, but I do NOT want to hear an actor’s so-called thoughts on political matters. Unless the actor was a former politician, it’s akin to my plumber offering his wisdom on Internal Medicine (unless, of course, he was a former cardiologist). Okay, Mr. Well-Paid Screen Actors Guild Person, here’s your revised script: just learn your lines that smarter people than you wrote for you, stand where people tell you to stand, smile (or cry) when told, and otherwise, shut the hell up about everything else. Sean Penn, are you listening?

Graduation Ceremonies
These very long, sometimes very warm events can be atrocious. Nothing in these ceremonies are short, the speeches are predictable, the acoustics are indecipherable, and they might include those loud, rude, self-centered, screeching, whooping, big-hatted people to boot. Then, there’s the diploma handout ceremony itself… as 900 students stand in line to receive theirs… a……single…… student…… at…… a…… time. And, you’re there to see only ONE of the 900!

Local Morning News Programs
What is it with local morning newscasts? All the anchors are happy, happy, happy. One big, fake happy family. While the male anchor tells his obligatory corny jokes… over and over… as he’s ganged-up on by the females on the set. Such an “unpredictable” format. Also, don’t hold your breath waiting for science, tech, hardcore economic news, or which presidential candidate actually idolized a known communist… as that type news just gets in the way of the latest Lindsay Lohan debacle, or who wore what at the latest, daily, Award’s Show, or what celebrity just tweeted their latest baby bump picture. All is well and good in local morning news.

Ramped up Disclaimers in Radio Commercials
What is it with those radio commercials that seem normal – until when the last five seconds are ramped up to warp speed (or 17x the speed of an auctioneer’s chant). This vexing, new phenomenon seems isolated to the part of the commercial reserved for the product’s disclaimer language, and apparently deemed not necessary for decipherability. Audio fine-print, if you will. However, these daily, ubiquitous, frenzied and deranged, airtime affronts are like bullets to my cerebral cortex, and put my brain into a temporary, epileptic, seizure-like brain freeze. You corporate commercial culprits need to have mercy on your loyal listeners. And please pass the Tegretol.

It Was Fast and Cheap
Back when fast food restaurants were prominently emerging (McDonalds, Gino’s, Burger Queen, Roy Rogers), there was an unwritten pact with them: you give us our food fast, inexpensively, and we’ll help by bringing our own trash to the trashcans. But I feel as though that pact has been broken.  So-called fast food and its service is no longer fast, nor is it inexpensive, so after eating our food, why are we still throwing out our own trash?

What is it with coughing?
We all cough occasionally, but put enough people in an area (classroom, auditorium, church), and it’s an epidemic. It won’t go cough-free for more than 20 seconds. Try counting to 20 until someone coughs, and see how many times you’ll have to start over. It’s uncoughingbelievable.

The Fat Guy with the Earring
At what point do fat, sloppy guys gaze into the mirror and say, “Geez, I’m fat and sloppy, and I need something to help my overall look. I know, I’ll get an earring.” Sorry, dude, it’s not working.

Do Some Damn Research
I have a problem with those news story headlines that ask a question. You know the ones: Has Kirsty Alley been fired over her weight? Is there a link between cell phones and cancer? Is Bill doubting Hillary’s chances? Was there a Bigfoot sighting? You know what, Mr. and Mrs. Journalist, do some damn research, find the answer, write your column, and then maybe I’ll read it.

Note to Preston and Steve at Radio Station WMMR
I love your “Love You – Hate You” segment, but please (bleep) the lunatics (bleep) in (bleep) to curse. When they (bleep), you (bleep) to bleep what they say, and when you bleep what (bleep) they say, it (bleep) their rant INDECIPHERABLE!
Translation: I love your “Love You – Hate You” segment, but please instruct the lunatics calling in not to curse. When they curse, you have to bleep what they say, and when you bleep what they say, it makes their rant INDECIPHERABLE!  So bleep!

Men Wearing Jerseys with the Names of other Men on Them
As George Carlin said, “after you’re past a certain age, baseball bubble gum cards become cards with pictures of other men on them.” It’s kind of the same concept here with grown men wearing Howard, Utley, and McNabb shirts. Really, guy?

New Rules for Flip-Flops
You are no longer allowed to wear flip-flops if you have ugly, disgusting, warped toenails resembling potato chips. You are no longer allowed to wear flip-flops if you have ugly, disgusting thick calloused heels. Oh, almost forgot, you are no longer allowed to wear flip-flops if they make that annoying, rude, chinese-water-torture flip-flopping noise with every step taken throughout the entire day. Hey, other than that… you’re good to go.

Things that Once were Taboo are Now Acceptable (#256)
It’s interesting how those sissy little socks called anklets that girls only used to wear are now worn by men. Incredible.

Reported News That Really Isn’t (#78)
It was reported that Selena Gomez had a breakdown. Does that qualify as actual news? That’s like reporting fighting broke out in the middle east.

That Height Thing Again
I understand parents that brag about their children – as far as the kid’s academic or sports achievements – since the kid had everything to do with it. But how can they justify bragging about the kid’s height, since the kid had nothing to do with it?

How frightening is it when you very reluctantly let someone take a picture of you, citing your reluctance because of how non-photogenic you are… and sure enough the picture is horrific and the picture-taker says it looks just like you?

Celebrity Boo-Hooing
Always the great equalizer and fixer, I also have the perfect solution for any celebrity having one of their problems. Listen to me, Mr. and Ms. Famous Person With Countless Bucks Banked… here’s what you do to solve your so-called problem: count your money, one dollar bill at a time, and by the time you’re finished, your problem will have fixed itself or you won’t remember what it was. You’re welcome.

Nose Hairs
Men: Yes, facial hair is acceptable – as in beard or mustache – NOT as in long, rope-like strands streaming out of your disgusting nostrils. Let me ask, do you own a mirror? Do you not wash your face and shave or trim in front of it? The next time you do, hopefully today, you need to focus on those hairy, nasty little areas above your lip and under your nasal passages, and clip those little bastards into extinction. How can you look in the mirror everyday, and obliviously but continuously miss those offensive protrusions is beyond my logical comprehension. Dude, the customary Cro-magnon, along with your Armani suit, just doesn’t work.
Women: You can spot a hair out of place on another woman from 100 yards away, so stop with the nose hair blindness. Use that inherent, laser-like, search and destroy mentality for a good cause for all of mankind – which is scanning, honing in, and telling your man of his hair out of place – from his nostrils. Thank you for your service.

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