I hate that this isn’t a good look for her.
I hate that this isn’t a good look for her.
I hate that Parker Posey doesn’t work more often.
SPRING BREAK!





I hate how old ladies think that by having a ‘festive” hair color that they’re automatically hip and edgy. Believe you me, there is nothing cool about an old person with a Manic Panic habit.
I hate when restaurants try to force single-ply napkins down my throat. What the fuck am I supposed to do with TWO single-ply fucking napkins? (Apparently times are tough at Judi’s Deli [I mean they moved from a real-live restaurant in Beverly Hills to an old Beverly-Hills-adjacent ATM vestibule.]) They might as well just set a roll of toilet paper out on the counter…
I hate when people say “it’s on like Donkey Kong.” I’m not sure if people are unaware that the words “on” and “Donkey Kong” don’t rhyme. Or if they don’t care that they don’t rhyme. Or if I somehow missed the memo stating that they do, in fact, rhyme. Or if they think Donkey Kong is always on. (Or if anyone would miss them if they fell into a crevice never to be seen or heard from again.)
I hate how this makes me feel.
I hate it when people say, “Damn, Gina.” Excuse me, I mean, “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn, Gina.” 1. Um…Hi. What year is it? And 2. We’re not all black, you know. It’s like when faggots refer to themselves (and all the other faggots around them) as “Marys.” If I have to endure one more, “Heeeeeeey, Mary”, someone is going to get a kick to the nutsack. As far as I’m concerned, the only one allowed to say, “Heeeeeeey, Mary” is Jackée from 227.
I hate that Dave had to tag along because Sally was just “too much woman” for Stewart. (Stewart really got the short end of that stick.)
I hate when assistant-people call and say, “Hi, I have [INSERT NAME HERE] returning.” Err… Returning what exactly? My Cosby sweater? My Bell Biv DeVoe CD? (Do they know how stupid they sound?) It’s like when someone says, “I’ll see you later tonight, Steve.” And Steve’s friend, Alan (they are gays), says, “Looking forward.” Um… Looking forward? Looking forward to WHAT? (WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?) Finish the thought, Alan. Are you staring straight ahead? (Probably not considering…) You’re looking forward TO IT. (“It” most likely being gay sex.)
I hate that she had to sell 427,000 boxes of Girl Scout cookies to “finish” the Girl Scout curriculum.
I hate when people wink at me… It’s creepy and I feel like they know something I don’t.
I hate that someone wrote (and directed) this movie. I hate that someone said, “We should cast “The Rock” [EXCUSE ME, I mean] Dwayne Johnson” [in this gem of a picture]. I hate that someone thought writing “You Can’t Handle the Tooth” was a ‘clever’ marketing scheme. I hate that people are going to actually go see this movie. (I wouldn’t watch it on a plane—even if the only other option was an episode of “Two and A Half Men.”)