1. When people say shit like, “No regrets!” “Never live with regrets ya’ll!” “I’ll never regret any decision I’ve ever made….ever!” Really? You don’t have a single regret? Ummm….yeah…I’m calling bullshit on that one….
…because I’m pretty sure you regret whatever you did last night or I wouldn’t have awkwardly run into you at the local CVS pharmacy picking up your weekly prescription of plan B now would I?
“You know it’s only one pill now.”
“Oh is it?”
2. Those god damn mother-fucking “CO-EXIST” stickers that I see on every god damn liberal hippie douches Datsun. That’s not even an eco-friendly car. Jesus Christ. I swear to god, it just has the fucking word “sun” in it, so now you think it’s all pro-environment. Who isn’t pro-environment?! Oh wait…I’m not.
…I swear to God there must be requirements to buy this fucking sticker.
“Do you have dreadlocks?”
“Do you shave your legs?”
“Only in the summer.”
“Close enough…you are now the proud owner of the douchiest, of the douchiest bumper stickers.”
“Will some pale pseudo-ginger whose awkwardly cute come and kick the back of my car now?”
…and I will (and have), too.
….not a fan.
4. People who buy PBR because and say, “I buy it because I like the taste, not because I'm an annoying hipster wearing glasses with no lenses in them while I'm telling you why I but PBR in a condescending manner.”
5. People who like, no…looooooooooooove nature.
6. People who don’t understand that there is an imaginary line separating your seat from there seat on the MEGABUS.
…there is an imaginary line separating your seat from my seat on the Megabus! So get your fat ass off the god damn imaginary line!
…I’m pretty sure running is the root of all evil.
8. Orange juice.
…stop being such a sour bitch, orange juice. No seriously, if you weren’t so fucking sour I’d probably like you.
9. People who have never tasted a Zero Bar before.
…Go straight to hell, I say! STRAIGHT. TO. HELL.
10. This whole, “no pants, no service” policy.
…look, sometimes I don’t want to put pants on…and sometimes I want to buy a couple of forties sans pants. And let’s be honest here…don’t the two go hand-in-hand really? I really hope your nodding your head because you agree and not because you are trying to distract me from the fact that you are calling the police. I applaud your effort, but I really want that fucking forty now, cashier lady-man!