Gabriel's Groans: Top Ten Things That Drive Me Nuts!
All This Hanging Around Is Driving Me Nuts
Things That Drive Us Nuts
Annoying Ring Tones
In No Particular Order
Teetotalers who turn my drink sour. I'm being very serious here; I enjoy a drink or two and take great offensive when people that choose to refrain from the demon alcohol try desperately (without a hope in hell) to save my liver. I like my liver just as it is. Honestly, my liver and I are very happy. Why lecture me? It's very obvious that I like my G & T, so stop wasting your breath. I don't condone you drinking your fresh squeezed orange juice that costs more than a beer or the fact that you'll pay for a bottle of water rather than just ask for tap. Let's see who lives to eighty huh! Then we'll talk.
I really get annoyed when people drink from the milk carton or orange juice carton in the fridge. The only thing worse is preceding to offer the saliva riddled carton to me, a gut squirming gesture. To say I decline is certain. What happens next? The carton complete with soggy additives goes back in the fridge to linger among my other cooling possessions. The offending person smiles and heads straight for the butter dish. I'm hearing the soundtrack from jaws. Ahhh...
Junk mail stuffed in the mailbox should be a criminal offense. I regularly open the bloody box to a cascade of paper. Hunt through it all to find my real mail, like bills and more bills and then spend the next ten minutes trying to bundle it all together and dump it. I'll find a little note from the postman (with little smiley faces) telling me he had a parcel for me, but the parcel couldn't fit in the mailbox, because the mailbox was full. No s**t Sherlock! Stop putting all the f**king junk in there then. No wonder we're short of trees. Fume.
When someone you casually know sees you out for a stroll or in the local store and asks you: ''How are you?'' They are being polite, friendly and simply passing a comment.
They expect a friendly comment back, for example; ''I'm fine, thank you and you?'' They aren't really asking you how your big toe is, the one you stubbed on the door getting up in the middle of the night to pee, because you have a urine infection. And the doctor told you to bring a stool sample next time you visit; just in case. The one you've now got stored in the fridge, till the next time. God, I'll just put that chocolate swiss roll back; the desire for anything chocolate or log shaped for that matter has just gone right off me. Forever. Thanks for that.
What the hell is it with people that are never ever on time. STOP! the excuses. You are simply a rude selfish person. It is and always will be the height of ignorance to leave people waiting for you, just because you can't be bothered to pay attention to time. If you can't make one o' clock in the afternoon, fine make it half past. But, don't show up a half hour late with your silly little excuses and then have the audacity to wonder why I didn't get the drinks in. I bloody well did. I drank them both already! Ha! your round.
A pet peeve of mine are people who can't be quiet or stay in their seats at the movies. If it's not their blasted mobile ringing or beeping it's the constant rustle of sweet papers. What is it with these people? I mean switch the blasted phone off and for heavens sake hurry up and eat the damn sweets already. Then there's the people that can't sit still. Up and down, in and out, visits to the loo. Jeez, do me a favor, wait for DVD to come out and watch it at home. That way I might actually enjoy myself when I go to the movies.
What school do sales assistance go to, a part from the same one that is? It really gets on my wick when I go shopping and constantly get hounded by sales assistances. What part of:
''No thank you, I don't require assistance. I know perfectly well how big my bum is and how much material I need to cover it.'' are you having a problem with. Don't get me wrong, by all means ask me once but a third and fourth time, now that's bordering on stalking. Stop stalking me. Crikey I just want to buy a pair of damn knickers. I don't need your help, which I might add generally involves you shouting something like:
''Do we have the Bridget Jones pants in an extra large?'' across the whole store. Yeah! wonderful, like I really need that kinda help.
I can't stand the selling up propaganda that goes along side buying things these days. Take a visit to the movies for example.
Ticket vendor: ''Where would you like to sit?''
Moi: ''The middle is fine.''
Ticket vendor: ''Front or back, there's a special promotion with the back seats?''
Ticket vendor: ''Front left or front right.'' Swizzles the screen to show me seating lay out.
Moi: ''There, that's fine.'' I point to a seat.
Ticket vendor: ''Blue seats are already taken.''
Moi: ''Ok. That one.'' I point at a non blue seat.
Ticket vendor: ''That's a prime seat; it's more expensive.''
Moi: 'Fine, just give me the seat.''
Ticket vendor: ''Would you like to buy another seat; the second seat is half price?''
Moi: ''No, just the one.'' I say with raised eyebrow. I am now wishing I stayed at home.
Ticket vendor: ''Do you want popcorn?''
Moi: ''Nah! just the seat.''
Ticket vendor: ''A drink?''
Moi: ''Cheers, but no.''
Ticket vendor: ''If you buy a large popcorn, you get a coke free.''
Moi: ''No. Nothing thanks.''
Ticket vendor: ''If you buy a large coke, you get a small popcorn free.'' To my horror I find myself confused about the offers.
Moi: ''Just give me a coke.''
Ticket vendor: ''Anything else?'' Hands me the coke.
Moi: ''Yeah, the popcorn.''
Ticket vendor: ''You said you didn't want popcorn.''
Moi: ''Give me the damn ticket now and don't say another word.'' Said with a snarl.
I finally get to my expensive prime seat with my large coke minus my free popcorn only to find I am no where near the middle or the front. In fact I'm in the wrong bloody movie theatre. Ahhh...
I get really pissed when supermarkets change their layout. There I am like some blundering idiot rambling round the isles desperately seeking strawberry jam. Up and down the isles to no avail. I comb the whole bloody store, picking up things I don't even need. Then I realize I don't have room in the basket... so I go get a trolley. By which time I have now forgotten the only reason I came into to the store was to get strawberry jam. I go home without the jam and my fresh sponge cake that required the jam in the first place now gets filled with little chip marmalade instead. God help the poor f**ker that says anything.
What on earth is with people and buffets. It's like their brain shuts down and their stomach rules their body. I have witnessed on more than a few occasions the horror of buffets. Plates laden with a mixture of foods squashed into unrecognizable mush that quite frankly looks like it's already been through the digestive system. Bits of fried fish covered with pasta, chicken wings and BBQ steak smothered in a sorted sauces topped off with a slice of fruit for good measure. Sorry, but that makes me want to barf. And the real joke, these greedy gluttons then complain about the food, convinced they've got food poisoning. Yeah right! Whatever fatty.
© 2011 Gabriel Wilson All Rights Reserved
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