Some Shit I Fuckin' Hate

It occurred to me that, frequently, the most rewarding blogging times were when I was writing some random vitriolic rant about something that pissed me off, be it the organic food marketing scam, a shitty John Travolta movie, or fucking hipsters with their goddamn stupid converse shoes and un-informed political views.

Look at these hipster dicks.  It's not just that copied-ass fucking style and vibe that gets me... it's that if you ever sit down and try to talk to one of these mother fuckers, nine times out of ten they are about the most narcissistic, self-aggrandizing, out of touch fuck-heads in the world.  

 There have been two things in the past that have held me back from just ranting my ass off: 1) inevitably, a reader gets all pissed off, with their panties in a wicked twist, because they fail to read the "Suregon General's Warning" at the bottom of the blog, which appears in orange, or because they are of a simian intelligence level and can't get the humor; and 2) my mother reads this blog, and I frequently think 'would I want my mom to read this?'  And then, I frequently think, 'no.'

Well here's the deal.  After some soul searching, I have realized a couple of things.  The nature of "In Review" is laughter and, occasionally, deep introspective insight into the nature of the cosmological vastness that is the recesses of the human heart.  If people can't get that, then they must be hipster dicks who think they can actually logically prove that "Bush was a Nazi" because they saw "Fahrenheit 911" a couple of fucking times.

So, watching Michael Moore and The Daily Show turn you into Noam fucking Chomsky somehow?  Get screwed!

The other thing I realized is that my mom is the super-coolest mom in the world, and she would rather have me invest in this self-therapy called "blogging," even if it is full of words like "dick" or "son-of-a-gun."  

So we are going to run down a list of shit that I fucking hate.  For your pleasure.

#5: Waiting In Line

I don't know anyone who likes waiting in line, so this one is kind of a gimme, I suppose.  If anyone out there does like waiting in line, can you e-mail me or something?  Tell me how you got to be the way you are?  Was there head trauma involved?  I gotta hear the story.

I hate waiting in line at all kinds of places.  Some of those places include:

-The free clinic.

-The lady's restroom.

-The bukkake line.

-The DMV.

-The needle exchange.

-Theme parks.

-Waiting to leave class for recess.

-Much much more.

I would be interested in hearing where you all hate waiting in line.  The worst for me is a toss up between a theme park...

Elitch's, a theme park in Denver, is notorious for making me want to puke with bordom during long waits in ride lines.

...and the ER...

I have Munchausen Syndrome.  I make myself ill to get attention from doctors.  And there's nothing worse than shootin' a load of bleach, and getting to the ER and seeing this.  

So I have decided to put an end to this line waitin' shit.  I mean... we are human beings, not cattle.  I encourage the rest of you to join me in getting an old gladiator style sword and pretty much rippin' and slashin' your way to the front of any line you might encounter, as shown below.

I'm not inciting violence.  Just recommending it.

I hope that clears things up in regards to how I feel about waiting in line.

#4: Those Stupid Boots Girls Wear

Some of you might be asking: "why does Charles spend so much time bitchin' about peoples' footwear?  Does he have some kind of fetish?  Or is he some kind of secret fashion queen?  What makes him so high and mighty?  He wears Birkenstocks with socks more than 50% of the time, and he pops his fucking collar!  What a hypocrite!"

If that's what you are thinking, you can take your good point and just go on out of here.

I hate the following:

See those boots?  That shit is asinine!

It's ironic that the brand name of these hideous boots is "Ugg," because the only noise or word in my head when I see a girl wearing them is "Uggghhh."  (Spelled different, but pronounced pretty much the same.)

I'm not trying to offend anyone here.  I know that these boots are very VERY popular.  Especially, it would seem, among the "I want guys to think I will have sex with them for next to nothing, and very quickly," crowd.  But I have known normal-ass females to walk around with these bad boys equipped, and I can't help but just feel bad for them.  It's as though they are so insulated from common sense by fashion magazines and by their friends who are equally insulated that they can't see the godamn light of day.  Frankly, it's really indicative of the entire state of Western society.  We do things that are horrible, ugly, and bad for our souls, because there are like 4,000 layers of media and human interaction around us telling us that it is the right thing to do.  Case in point: there was a "Sex and the City" movie sequel.  And people went to see it.

I think the "Ugg" could be a symbol for a social-change and revolution.

Forget the bra.  Burn the boot!  Free your mind!

All silliness aside, though, these boots are seriously crap-tacular.  Especially when these stupid white women wear them in the middle of the summer with shorts that clearly reveal their naughty bits.  I'll be honest: I don't get it.  They are so gaudy it's unbelievable.  I miss the conservative, minimal stylings of the '90's and early 2000's.  Why is gaudy and stupid and '80's back?  Someone rescue me back to the time where I belong.

#3: When My Truck Won't Start

When it is 9,000,000 degrees below zero out, like it has been here in Longmont, Colorado, sometimes your vehicle won't start in the morning when you are leaving just perfectly on time to get to class right when it starts.

Sometimes you fucking PANIC in that instant because you wonder if there is a serious problem with the truck, or if it just doesn't have enough power to turn over in the cold because you have a bad battery.

Sometimes your first reaction is to start crying like a little girl and start punching the steering wheel screaming: "oh God, why me?!?  Why Charles?  Why won't my truck start?!?  Why did the doctor over-circumcise me?!?  Why does my sweat smell like rotten bacon?!?  Why?  Why?  WHYYYY!?!?!?"

Sometimes, your girlfriend Jera comes outside, because she's about to leave for school as well, and she sees you crying and sobbing and all she can do is laugh at this point because you pretty much cry over everything, like the little seven year old girl that you are.  After you quit sniffling and Jera stops laughing, you pull out the jumper cables and jump your truck from her little Honda, and she drives away to school.  You are super late for class.  As you sit wiping frozen tears from your face, you can't help but feel like she is driving away with your nuts in a bag.

Sometimes, you (read: I) HATE when your (read: my) truck won't start. 

#2: Seeing the Inside of a Pomegranate

Now this one's gonna throw some of you for a loop, but follow me on this...

I hate snakes.  They make my skin crawl and they make me want to start chopping little tiny hissing heads with a shovel as fast as possible.  There's nothing about snakes that I like.  I think the biggest beef I have with snakes is their lack of legs.  Leg number, to me, is the most important determining factor in whether or not I like an animal.  For instance: 

Homo-Sapien.  Two legs is a good number.  I like him.

Giraffe.  Four legs is starting to push it, but if he promises not to grow any more, we will be cool.

Centipede.  Who the hell needs this many legs?!?  This is disgusting!  I hate 'em.

So too many legs can really gross me out.  But too few legs is even worse.  That's why I hate snakes.

Also: their skin.  The texture and appearance of snakeskin makes me want to gag.  It's all scaly and gross and it just seems as though it is from the very depths of hell, which is ironic because some Fundamentalist Christians, I am told (by unreliable sources,) believe that the devil, and not God, created the snake.  

Snakes suck.  Their skin sucks.  I'm big on texture, and snakeskin is my most despised of textures.

I hate the inside of pomegranates because the little membrane that separates their delicious little tart berry-seed-things seemed to me, as a kid, to be somewhat like snakeskin.  Just the look of it, the pattern of it, reminds me of a snake, even to this day.  If I watch a pomegranate being peeled, I can hardly bring myself to eat any of its delicious bounty because I am made almost sick to my stomach by the sight of that gross membrane.

Membrane.  Puke.

I am insane, I know.  If there is one thing that makes me most insane, it really might be this.  But please, if you come to my house with a pomegranate, can you just peel that bastard before you get here?  Otherwise, I am going to vomit.  

#1: When Lists of Five Things End Up Only Having Four Things

Do you guys know what I mean by that?

Conclusion:

It feels good to rant a little.  I would hope that some of you could comment back with some shit you hate.  Or, if you are a hipster, a pomegranate, a girl who sold all of her shoes so that she could replace them all with Uggs, or the owner of Six Flags, I hope you will leave me some constructive feedback.  I promise to get you a "list of shit I love" again sometime soon.  I like doing those almost as much as the "stuff I hate" lists.

Mom, I hope the level of "fuck" words in this blog didn't make you too sad...

Bye everybody.

Love.