People Who Should Evaporate

Ok, well maybe not evaporate because that isn't violent enough, but definitely be maimed and/or murdered. You may think that's a bit harsh. I don't. I simply cannot wrap my head around a plausible reason as to why these individuals do the things they do. I think after these people are seen or caught doing the below things, a person should come and escort them to Mordor where they will be thrown into the fires of Mount Doom. Perhaps the person who escorts them could be Gollum and he can bite off their finger before he throws them in, just for good measure.


The Stair-Stopper

Whether they are mindlessly bullshitting away on their cell phone or just standing there drooling onto their feet, these idiots have decided to completely stop walking on the stairs and make everyone else go around them. Sometimes they make it all the way down or up the stairs only to stop at the bottom or top, respectively. A lot of the time, they do this on the steps going in and out of the subway (especially unforgivable). These steps only have enough room for two lines of people: one going up and one going down. By standing on the steps and being a moron, the Stair-Stopper forces everyone behind them to maneuver around them and face-first into the line going in the opposite direction. Traffic is entirely at a stand-still and nobody can go anywhere all because someone decided that they are the only person on the planet of importance. The prevalence of Stair-Steppers increases greatly when it's raining and they decide it's an ingenious idea to stand on the subway steps, just under the ceiling, to escape the rain. You are ruining my life by doing this and when I pass you, I will say "Are you serious?!" in the nastiest tone I can muster up. Also, beware of the rare and elusive Escalator-Stopper. They stop at the very top or bottom, just as the escalator ends, so that you have no choice but to flatten your whole body against their back and ass. Delicious.


Cat Callers

To Mordor with all of you! There is nothing I hate more than having my appearance assessed by a complete stranger. Does hanging out of your car by the waist and yelling "Hey Sexy!" ever work for you? Be honest, you're probably still a virgin. Nothing would make me happier in this world than if I could approach someone of the opposite sex on the sidewalk and not feel sick to my stomach with anxiety. This is because a hearty chunk of the time, they have something to say to me that has to do with the way I look. It's especially amusing when, if I react unfavorably to the public comment about my face, body, clothes, hair, ass, or tits, I'm called a bitch, whore, slut, etc. Anyone who knows me can vouch that despite my chronic sarcasm (it's terminal), I'm quite the amiable person. The jury is still out on why getting angry when a perfect stranger makes a comment about my waist-to-hip ratio constitutes my being a mean prostitute. I am not a piece of meat. I am not for you to comment on. I did not get dressed today for you. Please fuck off, on behalf of all women.


Mr./Ms./Mrs. Lasties

I am very weird about the order in which I eat things and I've been told that I'm not the only one who is like that. I will eat all around the edge of sandwiches and burgers and make it so that my last bite is the cheesy, saucy, ooey, gooey center. When I eat gummy bears, I save all of the green and white ones for last because they are my favorite. It's almost like I'm doing work when I start eating something in order to get rid of the less palatable parts of my meal. So when a friend (or soon to be enemy) asks me for a bite when there is only one, amazing, perfect bite left, I'm livid. Don't get me wrong, I'm an extremely generous person and that is why this sucks the most. I will give them the last bite and all of my green (which are strawberry-flavored, believe it or not) and white gummy bears, but inside my soul is dying. I can remember one instance of this from my childhood which practically traumatized me. Everyone agrees, I'm sure, that Jolly Ranchers tasted 114% better when they came in a roll and were square-shaped. I used to live, LIVE, for the moment when a red Jolly Rancher was next. There was no taste like it. However, this pack was especially barren and it wasn't until my absolute last Rancher that I saw a glimmer of cherry-flavored hope. That is, until my mom asked me if she could have one. I know, I know, I should have killed her. Instead, I gave her that cherry Jolly Rancher and continued sucking on my nasty, grape Jolly Rancher with a heavier heart.



Captain Miserable

Let me guess, you don't like this music, you don't like this party, and you don't like these people.We all have our moments when we're very difficult to please; whether it be from a lack of sleep, food, or just because we're in a foul mood. However, Captain Miserable is always difficult to please and will never just be happy and go with the goddamned flow. They are usually a friend of yours which makes it even more challenging because you have to be kind and supportive. They never seem to be satisfied with where you're going or what you're doing, but they never come up with an alternate idea. Captain Miserable most likely has a lot of other issues going on under the surface, but at the moment they aren't willing to fix any of them and would rather bitch, moan, and make your life a living hell. Save us all the trouble and just go home and sort through your shit. That, or bring us somewhere that you enjoy. If you're unable to do either, then you just have to suck it up and have fun. These are the rules.


Loud-Ass People

Just shut the fuck up. Nobody cares. That is all.


Social Preachers

"You should really be vegan." "Do you care about the ASPCA?" "Let me ask you a question about your hair!" Absolutely not. Social Preachers can be found on the street trying to sell you things, at parties trying to shove their views down your throat, or they can even possess your best friend temporarily. About a year ago, I was cornered at a party for about two hours by a guy who claimed that veganism was the only way to live. Through further conversation, I actually discovered that he ate fish (technically pescatarian), but continued to tell people he was vegan to "impress them." I remained severely unimpressed. When I first moved to NYC and was a gullible newb, I fell for the SSP (Street Social Preacher). I ended up paying $40 for a ~salon experience~ that expired, to my horror, only a little while after I bought it. It remained unused and I would have been better served wiping my ass or making pasties with said $40. The moral of the story is that 99.9% of the people who stop you on the street want your money. They don't just want to talk to you about the ASPCA, they want you to give them money for it. Just want to volunteer? Too bad. Once you start talking to them, they will guilt you with stories and pictures to try and bleed you of all of your income. My rule? If someone has a clipboard, fucking RUN. As for the vegans (I know that not all of you are undercover pescatarians), I'm cool as long as you don't try to convert me. I like cheese far too much and you'll just have to deal with that.


No wonder that website thinks my blog is "upset most of the time" when I'm writing shit like this every other day.