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.
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.
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.
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.
Just shut the fuck up. Nobody cares. That is all.
No wonder that website thinks my blog is "upset most of the time" when I'm writing shit like this every other day.