Hey buddy. So, the other day I was facilitating a meeting of high school social studies teachers--oh, sorry...lotsa people are fascinated when I say that and want to know what such a thing is like so I let them know it’s a lot like the Vatican conclave, only we allow some women and there’s no smoke because that’s against fire codes--and my colleagues let me know that they were a little tired of my “nice guy” shtick. See...I tend to be nice to people at the meetings I’m facilitating, and while usually that keeps me in good favor with the participants, apparently this time it ran its course.
So I tried being not nice, or the opposite of nice, or un-nice, or...just kinda’ dicky, and guess what? I really liked it!
Now, I know that you’ve come to think of me as synonymous with rainbows and koala bears and Desmond Tutu, but I’ve gotta’ warn you--you might start seeing more of dick-Pat, ‘cause I got a whiff of the bile and now I have a taste for it!
And you know what...it’s going to start RIGHT here, RIGHT now! I’m going to devote this post to all the things I HATE (yes, I know...that’s a very strong word), and indulge my inner dick. You can play along, but if you don’t want to, that’s cool. I completely understand.
Pat: So...in this festival of hate, you know what I hate more than almost anything (until I think of the next thing I hate)? Stupid little annoying yipper dogettes. Hate the fuckers. Tried to get some reading done outside a coffee shop on a beautiful afternoon while my daughter was in a dance class next door, and this little vest-wearing chihuahua (<--hate that stupid name too! Not the state in Mexico, just the dog name) kept barking his miniature ass off ‘til his owner came out of the shop. I kinda’ wanted to kick it into the intersection, but I don’t think that’s legal to do. I was polite enough to turn off my cell phone; the least the dog could have done was silence his barker, or put it on vibrate.
Christian: You had a group of high school social studies teachers tell you that they are tired of you being nice? And now you hate tiny dogs?
Pat: No. I’ve always hated tiny dogs. It’s just that now--because of the teachers of our nations’ youth--I’m willing to say it out loud.
Christian: Out of my way fuck-o! You’re full of crap!
Pat: What?
Christian: You’re right. Being mean and hateful is fun.
I hate fancy water.
Wow! This IS exhilarating!
No.
Feel free to list off something else you hate but then can you give me an example of how you were not nice while herding those teachers.
Pat: Oh, don’t get me wrong. When I said I tried being not nice, it was a really lame attempt at trying. Like, I apologized afterwards for using harsh words and sounding so stern. But the 15 or so seconds between saying those harsh things sternly and apologizing, I felt REALLY good!
And get this--back at the same place where that little yipper dog was antagonizing me, I found a new thing I hate. I was trying to enjoy a nice afternoon while sipping a beer and reading a book, but was completely distracted by the couple at the table directly in front of me. Know what they were doing? Drinking beer, and MASSAGING EACH OTHERS NAKED FEET. Eww! And they were doing it in that gross, super tantric sexual kinda’ way, which made it so I couldn’t even finish my beer (‘cause it was kinda’ cloudy, and that made me think some of their toe or foot detritus had floated in there). Yuck! I HATED them!
Christian: There should be laws against that kind of thing. Not finishing your beer is a crime against humanity.
Since you are all into hate right now maybe you could suggest something new and exciting for me to hate. As you may recall we did post awhile back where I talked about how I hate all bicyclists. Well I have recently purchased a bike and have now started biking to work and other places around town. Don’t get me wrong I still hate all bicyclists but to be honest, now that I’m a bicyclist, it’s kind of taken the fun out of hating them.
Do you have any suggestions for something cool and hip that I could start hating instead? I need something bigger than public foot massages or tiny dogs. Even bigger than public tiny dog foot massagers.
Pat: Well...where are you lately on lawn-mowing, running or weather-people? We covered each of those earlier, though it seemed those were things you detested rather than hated.
(I don’t mean to parse words, buddy, but I want to make sure we’re talking about the same emotions)
Do you want to return to one of those topics?
Umm...I’ve had mixed feelings about testoster-rock bands like Insane Clown Posse. Not sure if I’d go so far as to say I hated them--as we all know the LAST thing you need working against you is a horde of juggalos--but I could pretend for the sake of argument.
Christian: Yeah I really don’t care for Insane Clown Posse and the like, but because of that they rarely cross my path. I need something that I will encounter regularly that gives me more opportunities for hate. That’s what I’m looking for.
How about our readers, do you guys have any good hate suggestions for me?
