It occurs to me to be hateful. I won’t say why. I hate tags in the back of underwear. It scratches at you and scratches at you and scratches at you. What a stupid place to put something scratchy. Why haven’t people figured this out yet?

I hate people who, in the comfort of their cars, pull out across sidewalks and stop. This happened today. Murphy was close to my side, luckily (rather luckier than being a few feet in front of me). There were two rather big, rather warm looking women sitting there and I walked right up to the window and just stood there mustering the most irritated face I could manage which wasn’t difficult to do. I wanted to tap on her window and say, “Should I crawl through your backseat then?” And even though I stood there, a poking finger’s distance from the driver’s window, she didn’t go forward, she didn’t go backward, she just sat there. And instead of tapping on the window, instead of swearing at the woman, I stepped back one step then walked around the front of her car. Walking around, I wanted to give her an evil face, I wanted to knock on the hood of her car, I wanted to give her the one-finger salute but I didn’t. Perhaps, you might suppose, because I am too much of a gentleman. Or perhaps it was that I was afraid she would run me down right there, run me down and my little dog too.

I hate my DVD player. It’s fritzed. About five minutes into any movie it blanks out and goes blue and floods my room in that digital blue. Sometimes, when I’m ambitious I will try to restart the movie and fast forward past that glitchy bit; but not usually. Usually I just give up. When I turn my DVD player off. It says 賎oodbye’. I hate that too. Goodbye, short for 賎od be with you’; I’m quite sure my DVD player doesn’t care if God is with me.

I hate the first part of DVDs that they make you watch. You can’t fast forward them, you can’t skip them; they make you watch them. I know it’s illegal to make copies of movies. I know it’s illegal to show it publicly and ask people for money. I know this law was passed on September 7, 1977. I don’t care. And if you’re Canadian, they make you watch this information in French and in English. I hate, in particular, Disney movies that make you watch the previews for other Disney releases. Stop selling me stuff. They should program DVDs so that if you push menu you can skip all this nonsense. For the people not savvy enough to figure it out they can continue being reminded that it’s illegal to copy DVDs.

I hate when people say, “You look tired.” Pointless, that.

I hate when friends call, only they are busy with their children and they spend most of the phone call congratulating or disciplining their children. It’s unseemly to say so. I don’t care. “Just another bite. Why don’t you take another bite? I know but it’s good for you. It will make you big and strong. No, not on the floor. No, bad boy. Do you want to go to bed? Do you want to go to bed? You’ll go to bed. I swear. No videos. No video games. Straight to bed. Oh, who’s a good boy? Aren’t you a good boy? Hello? Are you still there?” What? Oh. Is it me again?

I hate business type guys who wear white shirts only they have silver dollar nipples so they wear a white undershirt only the undershirt shows through and it just looks preposterous.

I hate flossing. I know it’s good for you. I know it’s reasonably easy. But it’s so awkward. And it’s so ugly. Even when I’m the only one watching, and I am, ever, the only one watching, it’s ugly.

SS