The second stage of death is anger. Anger is an emotion. One met with a red face and clenched fists. Angry people can be scary looking. Their voices rise. Their farts seem intolerable. I get angry a lot. Rarely do I shout. I’m more someone who will mutter things under my breath. I cannot tell you how many times I have been pissed at someone and as soon as they turned the corner I gave them the double middle-finger. Some people may say I’m a coward for doing this. I say I’m saving my grandma from fainting.
(Yes I flip off my grandma. She was a Nazi war criminal. She had very little involvement in WWII. If you’re not part of the solution then you’re part of the problem. She’s the one on the right here dining with her college roommate’s boyfriend)
Today I want to talk about things that make me furious. I’ll stay away from topics like murderers, child rapists, and line cutters. These screw-heads are clearly hated by us all. I would like to instead focus on my inane anger issues. The times when even I sometimes think I need to take an anger management class.
1) Not having the bathroom to myself
I hate whenever I go into a public bathroom and other people are in there. I like to do my business in private. Sometimes after peeing I like to lift up my shirt in the mirror and remember what shame looks like. I can’t do that with others around. More than not being alone in the bathroom I hate seeing someone head for the bathroom right before I am. I feel obligated to remain seated for at least a little bit. I don’t want to get into some weird situation where I have to pretend to wash my hands longer than need be because he’s too busy hogging the hand dryer. This happens to me at least once a week. To solve the problem I’m thinking about going back to diapers.
(North Korea’s version of ballet. They get as many people as they can to put Depends on over their clothes then they clap in unison. Diplomacy is no longer an option)
2) People who do not respect personal space
When I say personal space I mean anywhere near me. I do not like people to be present. Whether it be in a car one lane over or in the same theater while I am watching a movie, I hate the presence of others. Sometimes I will hear my neighbors outside talking. Instead of going outside to escape a gas leak I will hide inside until their conversation ends. This is how much I hate others. I would rather suffocate to death than have to exchange pleasantries.
3) Unfriendly cashiers
I gave a cashier a $20 bill for a $14.96 item. He gave me back 4 cents. I asked him where the rest of my money was. He told me I gave him $15. Is there a $15 bill? I was not aware. I imagine picture on this bill is someone like Martin Van Buren or Tipsy Gore (or whatever Al Gore’s wife’s name is). I love a cashier who smiles. I guess when I think about it they’re only happy when they’re ones who can work for tips. The rest always seem as miserable as I am. At least they don’t have to stare at their ugly face like I do.
(Keri Russell is just happy to have work after Felicity went off the air. I bet she only works at this restaurant because Ben comes in frequently)
4) Receiving voicemails on my phone
Whenever I get a voicemail I always get excited. I imagine someone has great news. Such great news that they had to call me to tell me about it. Never do they have anything worthwhile to say. They were either bored or have run out of monthly text messages and have to call me a jackass with their voice. Listening to voicemails is so annoying. My mom used to leave the longest voicemails imaginable. I always gave them two minutes then decided it was best to just call her to have her tell me she saw a deer on television. Please do not leave me voicemails without extremely exciting news. I’m always afraid someone has died and I was taking a poop when you called. Now whenever I poop I will be afraid another loved one will be passing on.
5) When someone is a “good writer” then I read their stuff and don’t get it
I’ll admit, I’m pretty dumb. No, really. I swear! Don’t let the brilliance of this blog fool you. I have a very difficult time comprehending even the simplest tasks. I never used a real toilet until I was 17. My home was not carpeted so we managed. What do I consider a good writer? That’s a hard question to answer. To me good means entertaining and understandable. Less is more. What I hear from others as good can be overly complicated and leads to nowhere. I hate books that are overly descriptive. A story should go somewhere. It should have more to say than whatever the moral of the story is. At the very least I shouldn’t be zoning out thinking about movies. If I’m reading your book and thinking about movies you have not done your job.
6) People who ask too many questions
What qualifies as too many questions? More than one. Young people ask too many questions. It really aggravates me. Some might describe my feelings as being “irked.” Young people have bad instincts so it makes sense. That’s why you always hear about high school kids dying in humorous preventable ways. Go with your gut instead of asking someone for the right way to do a task. If you make a mistake, who cares? Someone else will fix it and correct you. If you’re smart enough you’ll remember forever how to do it right.
(The golden days, back when only boys were allowed to ask questions during class)
Plenty more things in life upset me. I’m going to limit this to 6 because as I said earlier, there are things that make all of us angry. There is no point in me going deeper into them. Plus, the world is coming to an end soon. I have things to do before it does, like find the right kind of diaper to wear.