New Year Boogie

Instead of the usual crap about resolutions, I thought I would, instead, focus a bit more on the negative for New Year, and count some of the things that I hate, and will attempt to hate more intensely in 2020:

I hate it when dudes take more than 3-5 minutes on their hair when getting ready, because that means they're ladies.

I hate whiny, sniveling songs and can't abide them because that means the dedicated listener is eager to be miserable. Go away.

I hate it when people are too intense about their local culture. If you show up at my door with a ten-gallon hat on, cowboy boots, a giant belt buckle and call me partner, I'm calling the police. Some of that is fine, but if you put too much of the package together, I'll find a way to have you locked up.

I hate pot-luck dinners, particularly when you know that one of the people who brought food is constantly engaged in personal ass-play, or is freewheeling with boogers.

I hate reunions, formal or informal, in which some begin to engage in an accomplishment contest. I like to walk up in the middle of one of those shitty exchanges and tell them that I personally have never been employed, but that I try to write free-style poetry but can never finish any of it. Then I say, "Thank god for Grandma, though -- she funds me pretty well."

And finally, I hate peas, and the people who try to make the case for them. They are like feces with a weird soft shell, but the inside stayed horrifyingly soft. And if there is one thing that I've concluded firmly among all of the things that are still up for analysis, I don't eat shit, and I'll never be swayed otherwise.

Happy New Year!