Things I don’t appreciate, Part II

A partial list.

Oh, oh, you have a backlit picture of wheat on your blog? PISS OFF. I’m not gonna wait around to find out if there’s an autoplay of devotional piano music that speeds up and slows down emotionally to illustrate the movements of the soul, which is apparently set to “achingly quivering” 24/7, because of course there is.

Say, you brought your dog to the beach even though it says no dogs allowed, because your dog is different from other dogs, and only needs a little practice around kids? HEY THAT’S SWELL. You are doing life right, Ace! Yeah, take that sucker off his leash! I had an extra ten minutes in my life that weren’t already filled with anxiety and rage, so thanks for taking care of that for me.

Could you respond to my essay by quoting the exact same paragraph I quoted in the essay, but somehow telling yourself that you’re making a devastating point that eluded me because I’m a moron? Couldja do that? YOU CAN? Oh, my luck is just through the roof today.

Hey, maybe my husband can work late to find out what the Native Americans have to say about a proposal to run power lines through 180 miles of wilderness! I certainly wonder what their take on it will be, I certainly do. Reading about it will be much better than actually finding out what my husband’s face looks like in daylight.

I want to go to my grave without knowing who Antonio Sparado is, and you assholes won’t let me.

Who’s the fucking moron who accidentally installed some kind of useless, bogus encrypted search engine on my computer, so every time I search for something, big brother won’t be able to track it, but on the other hand it only turns up super useful results like “70% off Ann Voskamp – Best Price Ann Voskamp – Buy Now?” Oh, it was me? And I get to be in charge of keeping ten human beings alive, too? THAT MAKES SENSE.

Good, good, I’ll start worrying about the parakeet’s mental state, now.

WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL MY SOCKS?

You know, Joan Jett did a cover of “You Don’t Own Me,” and it should have been awesome, but it wasn’t. It was terrible.

Good, yes, I would like the air I breathe to be more fruit fly than oxygen. I am ever so grateful, especially when I get to sponge rotten potato juice off the wire shelving I thought it wise to keep my potatoes on in the heat.

People who run several times a week should eventually get better at running, but it turns out sometimes they don’t. They just get stains on their stupid bright orange shirts, and who would buy another shirt for someone who’s so crappy at running? NOT ME.

Benedict Cumberbatch isn’t remotely attractive, and you know it. Hoo-ray, so he’s tall. Lots of people are tall. The produce guy is extremely tall, and you don’t catch me all, “ooh, ooh, he should be in a TV show, ooh, he should be in a movie.” George the Animal Steele was six foot one, all right? I guess it’s nice you feel sorry for people who weren’t born with enough skin to cover their whole entire faces, but there’s no need to pretend this is an attractive man.

And there it is.

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Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash

22 thoughts on “Things I don’t appreciate, Part II”

  1. Your posts are always enjoyable!

    I had to recently remove the encrypted search thing from one of the other monk’s computers for them, so I know how that goes.

    At least it wasn’t as bas as the time he somehow accidentally installed Windows 10 on it.

  2. RE: Benedict Cumberbatch

    sa·pi·o·sex·u·al
    ˌsāpēōˈsekSH(o͞o)əl/
    adjective
    1.
    (of a person) finding intelligence sexually attractive or arousing.
    “I met a PhD student from Germany who told me that he was sapiosexual”
    noun
    1.
    a person who finds intelligence sexually attractive or arousing.
    “I’m a sapiosexual and I like to talk”

  3. I have particular sympathy for the Joan Jett item. I’m a Yes fan, but I ranted for weeks about the head-shaking disappointment that is their cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s “America”. It SHOULD have been awesome, but NO.

    Also, I’l l second the request for a link to “Part I”.

  4. Hey, my kids are 10% Native American. Leave my people alone.

    Things I can do without:

    My sister’s three rescue dogs who come over to my yard to leave their unrescued mess.

    People who say they had a great time in Vegas. Sorry, you’re lying. It’s not possible. Your selfies don’t mask your inner pain.

    Disneyland. Ugh. Stop calling it the happiest place on earth. Just stop.

    Million dollar shacks and the thousands of miles my husband drives each month.

    Kid #4 has lost five iPhones in three years.

    My eight-year-old showed me THIS by her cousin and his buddy.
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIvYvE8mR-k

    I told him that his feelies are like diamonds and he shouldn’t give them away.

    This. My kid is doing surf camp there next week.
    https://www.noozhawk.com/article/sharks_captured_on_camera_swimming_padaro_lane_carpinteria_20170708

    Siri. Get you act together woman, you’re becoming an occasion of sin.

    The pure horror and pain of watching an exterminator kill not one but TWO hives of bees in my wall. I can’t face those “give bees a chance” bags now. I am haunted by guilt.

    Mosquitoes. They only go for me and my Mom. They ignore my husband and kids. Little jerks.

    People who call Game of Thrones “Game of Boobs” because they’ve never watched it. (I’ve repented of this).

    The fact that more men are not like John Snow.

    Packages of cheese that have too many ingredients.

  5. DOGS. I could write an entire essay on Dog Things I Do Not Appreciate, and I know dog people will jump all over me (ha, see what i did there) and say it’s not the DOGS I don’t like, but the OWNERS. That said, I really really don’t appreciate when somebody has their dang mutt on a leash that’s so long that it can lunge towards my kids and the owner stands there with either a) a blank expression on their face, or b) say chirpily, “Oh! He doesn’t bite!”

    Newsflash, that is a logical fallacy. Perhaps your dog HASN’T bitten anybody yet. Perhaps your dog has never been spooked or bothered by a small child, and reverted to his ancient buried wolf DNA, and that’s dandy. But you can’t honestly say that, down the echoing corridors of time, that he WILL NEVER bite. Animals are inherently unpredictable. I once had a fluffy cat that seemed to just adore having small children rub his tummy, oh yes he did, so I thought, “Oh! My cat never scratches/bites kids.” Guess what happens when a toddler tries to nuzzle a sleeping cat’s fluffy tummy? An ER trip, that’s what. Be ye not so stupid. Keep your danged dog on a short leash, thankyouverymuch.

    Also, can dog owners stop driving with their dogs on their laps? You look stupid when you do that.

  6. You know what I don’t appreciate? No link to fucking PART ONE!

  7. Re: Benedict Cumberbatch

    AMEN. His inexplicable elevation to heartthrob status has always been a mystery to me. And I used to have a crush on Tom Petty. TOM PETTY.

    1. Benedict Cumberbatch (or as we call him in our household, “Eggs Benedict Cummerbund” is a very good actor, and we really liked Doctor Strange, but LORD ALL MIGHTY he did a weird V-shaped smile in Star Trek: Into Darkness and I cannot. watch. that. movie. again because no human’s mouth should be able to make that shape.

      1. “Eggs Benedict Cummerbund,” heh! That sounds like it could be on @NamesOfBenedict (one of those jokey Twitter accounts – random-spirited humor, but some of it’s funny).

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