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4:19 pm | 07 June 2004 | who do we appreci-HATE

You know, I try to get all positive with the WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING. GodDAMN it. Is there anything worse on this godforsaken earth than a computer that is processing all fucked-up and crazy and keeps with the Whirly Pinwheel of Hypnotic Distracting You From the Fact That You Are Cooling Your Heels Waiting to TYPE IN TEXT-EDIT, goddamnit, which even like the most cretaceous Apple IIe could manage without all this delay? Is there? I know there is. Something worse. But still: aggravating.

Um. Anyway, one of my more common You Can Really Change Your Life Today phases* is the Being More Positive. You know, every few months somebody blows some Zen-flavored sunshine up my ass and I get all "Ooooh! I shouldn't hate! People are just big innocent children! Weeeeoh, a unicorn just crapped diamond dust in my fucking eyeball! GALACTIC!" Whatever. People are totally hateful, and by "hateful" i mean "ripe for the hating." Why, yes: I am drinking Haterade!

One of my most-hated tricks people pull is the Being-All-Freaked-Out-For-No-Reason (aka the Needless Frenzy). I have an irresistable urge, it seems, to work for these people. I am continually employed by fools who cannot help but make everything into a big motherfucking deal to justify the fact that they feed off chaos. Adrenaline junkies! Dude, your X-Treme managerial skills are putting me seriously out. Go take up a Mountain Dew sport and leave me to sort my pathetic spreadsheets in peace.

Another one? Hi? Hi, you? Are you a girl who acts totally cool around other girls but who then becomes a tweaked-out asshat floozeball** the second some ballsack walks into the party? Hi! Go die now! What the hell is wrong with you, you tarted-up sexpotluck?! You are a seething casserole of culturally-injected misogyny topped with the crumbs of Cosmo and this misguided impulse towards hoarding and stockpiling formerly seen only during, like, medieval sieges! You don't have to have all the boys for yourself! There will not be a Man Shortage anytime soon (or, at any rate, not soon enough)! You will not be forced to prowl the streets seeking out seed for your graspy womb after the "Revolution" or the End Times or whatever wipes out all dudekind! Goddamnit! Quit angling your boobies so they catch the bluw glow of the barbecue's bug-zapper to their best advantage and just Have! a Fucking! BEER!

Tomorrow I will be calmer and will also be bringing you photos and a fun contest. Until then: Resist the integrationist pacifism creeping up on all sides. You've earned the right to hate! Hate on, brotha! clm.

*See also: Not Smoking, I'm Not Drinking (For a While/This Week/at This Party/Until 10:30), Trying to Swear Less, and Quitting Eating the Sugar (ha! ha! whatever).

**This delightful term, which i have just-now coined, is great because not only does it employ "floozy"--tragically underused in the Age of Hoes--but it also implies the sort of violently ineffective jockeying for position seen in Foosball, which as table sports go is totally lame.

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