Things That Bug Me

*BLOGGER'S NOTE* I have decided that I really like the format of giving a little preamble, and then going into a list as sort of the standard for this blog.  So, I think that's what I'm going to do, at least for the next little while.  If you don't like it, comment, maybe I'll change it.  If you don't like it and don't comment, tough beans, you suck at life. And, that's it.  We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog post.

See?  Pleasant.

Now, before I start listing off to all (both?) of you the things that set me off in the worst way and just make me see red and want to punch you in the throat, let me disclaim that I am generally a pleasant person.  Usually, it takes a whole lot to get me angry, like, legitimately throat-punchy angry.  There are, however, a few exceptions.  Exceptions which I will list here.  I realize that by doing so, I'm giving the tens of readers out there a lot of control over my emotions, specifically the boiling lake of anger that usually lies dormant in my heart.  But you guys need to realize that with great power comes great responsibility.  Rice mogul Uncle Ben said that.  So, be warned: If you do any of these things to me on purpose, I will cut you.

With that being said, I trust that you and I will not have any problems in the near future.  Because if we do, the near future may be the only future you have.  I take this stuff seriously.  So, here's the list.

• People who don't use their blinkers.  They bug me.  It may seem like a little thing because it is a little thing.  Seriously, all it takes for you to turn on your freaking blinker is one tiny movement of your hand.  But no, you just show off your flippancy and complete disregard for the law every time you refuse to do so, like you're better than me.  Not only that, but there's public safety involved. I get it, maybe you like to live dangerously, have your own theme music, and maybe an awesome catch phrase, whatever, but do that on your own time.  Same goes for people who use high beams when they're behind you.  "Thank you, sir, I really wanted to go blind while driving a two-ton vehicle at 65 miles-per-hour.  In the dark.  You've made that fantasy a reality!" There is a special circle in hell for them.

• Roommates.  Anyone who has lived with someone that isn't either related by blood or in a coma knows what I'm talking about.  I mean, come on, is it too much to ask for us to try and have the apartment smell nice? Or for you to do your dishes at least once a week? Or for me to not come home to A FREAKING DEAD FISH FESTERING IN A POT OF WATER? All of these seemingly rhetorical questions are based on true events.  You know who you are. You're my roommates, and you bug me.

• People who say "up" when they mean "down", and vice-versa. The principle is an extremely simple one.  Any second-grader with a map could understand it.  When you're going North, you're going up. When you're going South, you're going down.  So don't tell me you're going to up to Provo from Salt Lake.  Because if you do that, you're going down (See what I did there?  Like, a threat, you're going down, but it also applies in the situation).

• Self-proclaimed hipsters.  Seriously? You're the worst kind of person.  So, you cuff your pants and wear shoes without socks and thick-rimmed glasses, whatever.  If you spent more on your stupid linen shirt than I did for rent last month, you're not a hipster.  So go listen to your obscure bands in your room in the dark with your $200 head phones and no friends.  Friends are so mainstream.

Go ahead, make my day.

• Finally, the thing that bugs me the very most, when people pull the covers off of me.  There's a sacred bond between me and my blanket, we have a pact.  As long as I'm covered, I'm safe, separated from the outside world by a barrier of warmth.  I can enjoy being my own man.  And then you come in, with your agendas, and your "we have things to do"s, and your breakfasts, and you pull off my blanket, and suddenly I'm cold and alone in a big world of responsibility.  And I'm also very angry.  Honestly, I take no responsibility for what happens in the moments after you remove my blanket.  Sorry about the broken hip, grandma, but you should have known better.

Anyway, like I said, certain things just bug me.  So, if you avoid doing or being these things around me, we will just get along great, and you will avoid any personal injury.  Otherwise, I really can't make any sort of promises.  And if you ever see me with a blanket, resist the temptation.  It can only end badly.

Stay Beautiful,

Sharples