It’s like there’s a clothing store in Chicago called, ‘90’s.’
I really hate jeans with embroidered pockets.
It’s really uncomfortable when bands (or solo artists) say things like, “I love my fans!” Or, “I love you all!” when [MAYBE] 23 people know they exist.
I hate a “downstairs” bathroom (um…it’s a basement) in a restaurant.
I hate newscaster banter.
I hate when people wear [everyday] glasses (as in regular glasses for seeing, reading, driving, etc.) with dark-tinted lenses. I HATE THESE. They’re like indoor sunglasses, but not dark enough to be sunglasses. (And who wants to be the douche wearing sunglasses indoors? [We’re not all part of the Jersey Shore cast.])
Does anyone know what (the) Mona Lisa has to do with AIDS?
I hate that this is
probably the Christmas card for an NRA member.
I hate when people write “KEWL” instead of cool. And what may be worse (if you can imagine such a thing) is when they try and pronounce it. [Pronounced: q-uh-öol]
I hate when people refer to their own mothers as MILF’s.
I hate the word “jeggings.”
I saw a girl in yoga this morning with ‘Daddy’s Girl™’ tattooed on her ankle. (Someone was obviously molested.)
I hate when dudes refer to each other as “son.”
I hate the handlebar mustache.