Things I hate

1. Those stupid short sleeved turtle neck shirts. I especially hate the ones with the little puffed princess sleeves. It's stupid. Not only are they so absolutely ugly, but they're totally pointless. They won't keep you warm in the winter (since they have NO SLEEVES), and they'd be too hot in the summer. The other thing I hate about those, is that almost every single girl I've ever met who wears those stupid shirts, are so completely snobbish, it makes me sick.

2. One time I met this guy. He was incredibly gorgeous. I was drooling (ok, not really). He was just incomprehensibly beautiful. Every time I looked at him, it was like looking at him for the first time. It would take my breath away. He was BEAUTIFUL. I'm not joking.
To make it even better, he starts walking over to me like he's going to talk to me. My heart beat is now reaching rates unfathomable to the human mind. I check my breath, run my fingers through my hair, slick my tongue over my teeth to make sure there's no food or anything, then break out my most brilliant, most "Yes, I'm golden" smile.
Then he opens his mouth.
All of my dreams of our beautiful children come crashing to the floor. He's hitting on me. Everything about him screams "I'M STRAIGHT!!!"
But his voice is indisputably that of a flaming gay man's voice.

I hate that.

3. Pollocks.

4. The other day, I'm driving down Finley Road, and I'm at the stop light at Roosevelt and Finley, and this white pickup truck pulls up next to me. There's this guy in it. I mean, everything about him screams sleaze ball.
He looks out his window, and sees that I'm attractive (which I am, much too attractive for him)
This sly little smile breaks across his face.
The light turns green, and I throw my foot against the gas to ditch him (which, by the way, I've become very good at this...ditching people, that is)
And he speeds up more, catches up to me, looks out his window, and assumes the position.
And by "the position", I mean that he puts his right hand on top of the steering wheel and across, purses his lips, looks at me, and starts bobbing his head. Now, I'll give him this - he was TRYING to look attractive, but at the moment I was wondering why they had let this mentally disturbed person get behind the wheel a 2 ton vehicle. So I shot him the dirtiest look I know - and by dirty, I do not mean scandalous, I mean down-right cruel, and speed away.

What was he going to do? Get me to pull over? Did he think he'd get a quicky in the back of his ugly white gas sucking pick up truck?
Sorry sweetheart, but has anyone told you that I'm the queen? Yes. I'm the queen, and with four beautiful words, I can have you killed. They are Off. With. His. Head.

And get your mind out of the gutter you sickos.

Done.