H8tred
There are a lot of people who get really funny about the word ‘hate’.
I have nothing against it at all. I think that it’s a natural state for a human being to exist in. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with hate at all. If you think about it, the old ying and yang thing comes into play – I’m not sure that you can really ever love, if you don’t hate as well.
People in my life have got offended on numerous occasions in the past when I’ve used the word hate. I get offended when the same sort of cretin casually bands about the word ‘love’. “I love my new shoes”, “I ♥ New York”, all that. Do you? Do you really? Or do you just like it quite a lot?
Well, I hate these following people. It’s a list of people, who can quite simply get fucked.
- Men who wear a knitted tam pulled right back on their head, a cardigan, low cut neck t-shirt, skinny jeans and plimsoles. Put some boys clothes on you effete, effeminate jessies. You are not ‘deep’ or ‘complicated’, you are however wearing a girls t-shirt.
(N.B. My rage towards this look may, in part, be directed at the fact that even at my skinniest, I would not have been able to carry this look off, even if I’d wanted to. This whole thing is aimed at narrow shouldered boys whom can shop at H&M, a shop that I loathe, whom seemingly make adult clothes in child sizes).
- People who work in cafe’s in Wellington making overly fussy, overcooked American style coffee yet think that they have an important role in society and are deeply cool. (See previous entry). You serve coffee. Badly. You are not the fucking editor of Vice Magazine. You live in a style desert. Grow some balls and fuck off to London on OE for a couple of years. See how small town you are then you utter, utter arse.
- Grown women whom count down the days to something they’re excited about by saying “…. sleeps to……”, (also, Arctophiles.) Any woman over the age of 25 that tries deliberately to be ‘cute’ or ‘ditsy’ puts the cause of womens liberation back decades every time they open their mouth. Women like this are always particularly venal and ruthless anyway.
- Women whom wear jeggings. I mean, honestly, what the fuck is the point.
- Canadians. I mean honestly, what the fuck is the point.
- Grown adults whom can’t cook, or don’t like vegetables. I watched a documentary once where Ray Mears interviewed one of his heroes, which was some Chilean bloke that had started writing about native bushcraft in his own country in the early 60’s. He was explaining that some of the elders of the village he’d studied were very dismissive of him, despite him spending years studying their ways. One elder explained that it was due to the fact that he didn’t know how to survive in the jungle without equipment that had been made by others. To them, he deserved no respect, as he was like an infant. That’s how I feel about anyone whom has reached adulthood, but still can’t put together a passable Spaghetti Bolognese. I mean honestly, how stupid do you have to be? I also worked with a bloke once whom didn’t like vegetables. I actually saw him once buy a cheese and ham sandwich off the man with a trolley that used to appear in our office, remove the lettuce and throw it in the bin. I never spoke to him in the rest of my time in the office. I saw there as being no point. Some people are not worth saving.
- People whom have conversations about characters off the soaps like they are real people. As I’ve said elsewhere in this blog, a lifetime of loud volume has left me with fairly substandard hearing. If I make the effort to tune into what appears to be a fairly salacious conversation, I don’t want to then find out that it’s about ‘Outrageous Fortune’. This has been made doubly irritating by the rise of “reality” TV (which seems largely to be more fake than TV was originally). The Kardashians being a case in point.
- The person whom edits the web content on the Dom Post website. A COMMA DOES NOT DO THE SAME JOB AS AN AMPERSAND YOU TOTAL KNOBHEAD.
- People who laugh at the jokes in Shakespeare plays. To follow, one of Shakespeare’s most hilarious gags – which wankers always laugh at, just to show that they know it’s a joke. The thing is, everyone knows it’s a joke, cos everyone’s read the same York notes.
SAMPSON - Gregory, o’ my word, we’ll not carry coals.
GREGORY - No, for then we should be colliers.
SAMPSON - I mean, and we be in choler, we’ll draw.
GREGORY - Ay, while you live, draw your neck out of the collar.
Hilarious, I’m sure that you agree. Actually, the more I think of it, this just goes for anyone whom laughs overly loud and any gag/incident that merits a titter whilst in a public setting. Fuck you.
- Anyone called Guy. “Hi everyone, my name’s Guy”. Oh, fucking is it… Guy is exactly the same kind of person that laughs at jokes in Shakespeare plays. Guy’s never had anything go wrong in his whole life. He went to the right school, got the right grades and made the right choices. Guy’s got good teeth, good skin and a good job. He’s got a nice car, a nice house and never has any problems getting clothes to fit. I hate Guy and all his fucking friends.
- Any band that starts with ‘The’ (and anyone that likes them). Apart from The The. - The cavalcade of c**ts that this particularly refers to is The Thrills, The Datsuns, The Kooks, The Coral, The Music, The Klaxons, The Feeling, The Delays, The Killers, The Bravery and any other lowest common denominator, flavour of the month, NME sponsored, retro leather jacketed and parakeet coiffeured here today-gone tomorrow whiteboy indie garbage that will be hyped by the media as the new whichever “The” band was similarly hyped a fortnight ago. It’s so utterly, utterly boring. Indie rock is dead and has been since Britpop disappeared up its own sinus in the mid nineties. There have been some great “The” bands previously (The Beatles, The Kinks, The Hollies and The Who all raised the flag in the sixties, then in the seventies the ska bands kicked it all off again – The Specials and The Beat to name but two). It’s over. If you call your band “The” you are trying to say that you’re the definitive article whilst being utterly derivative. Die. Just die.
- Pearl Jam (and anyone that likes them). Pearl Jam was the first band I ever saw live. (The Drifters at Lakeside with my parents and The Baron Knights when we were down in Devon on holiday notwithstanding). That was back in 1992, and to be honest they were a bit of an anathema even then. If you think about it – ‘Ten’ is basically a 1980’s hair metal album, dressed up in a plaid shirt. Since then, they’ve basically turned into a plodding, roadhouse rock, Bruce Springsteen covers band. They are the most boring musical act in rock history and if you like them, you’re boring as well.
- Mario Batali. I should like Mario Batali by rights. He worked with Marco Pierre White (who I love) before he was famous and he’s a big bloke (never trust a skinny chef). However, I find him utterly intolerable. I dislike his terrible mispronunciation of European words and the fact that he’s on Iron Chef America (which is the most utterly joyless cookery show on earth – it utterly goes against how I feel about cooking). He’s also got a beard.
- People whom have beards. Untrustworthy, and often smell.
- People whom wear a Bluetooth mobile telephone headset even when they’re not driving. Men in their late forties whom are living out some sort of perverse spaceman fantasy. Cocks, one and all.
- People whom use the word ‘segway’ as a verb. And whilst we’re on the subject, people who actually ride Segways. They can fuck themselves as well.
- Anyone whom rides a fixed wheel bike. Because you wouldn’t want to let the safety of others on the road impede on you making a statement about your individuality. Get a bike with brakes you fucking prick.
- People whom write in text speak. “C U L8A!” C U next tuesday, more like.
This post was inspired by the following:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ThQO7s087Cc and the peerless George Carlin, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Carlin), ‘s “Simple List of People Who Oughta Be Killed”.
