Here's a few things that disgust me, just for fuck's sake.

-Alcoholics and other "recovering addicts" who deny ever having had any good times on the sauce or their drug of choice. I swear, if anyone ever tells me that "drugs/drink ruined their life" and denies any beneficial attributes of their particular poison, I might very well slug them. Nobody gets addicted to anything because they hate it or because it forced themselves upon them; ultimately addiction rests upon the addict, and any sane addict or ex-addict will most likely say "fuck yeah, I had a grand ol' time when I was fucked up." We live in a culture that despises so-called bad habits, and it makes me want to puke. If you use drugs, it's your decision; don't fucking apologize for it unless you kill someone or seriously ruin someone else's life. You're doing a disservice to a long line of functional boozers and dope fiends.

-The recent crop of books targeted at women. For fuck's sake, women, realize that all these books are doing are pandering to base instincts! There's no intellectual, spiritual, moral, ethical, or social content worth a fucking damn in a book called "Confessions of a Shopaholic." All it is is a motherfucking excuse for consumerism and post-consumerist guilt. Read some real fuckin' books, for the love of God, literature, and D.A. Smith!

- Light beer. Light beer is piss, and in many cases watered-down piss that bears the label of an equally piss-esque beer that isn't very good either. Yeah, I drink cases and cases of cheap, exquisitely tasty Lone Star, but fuck all y'all that look down on Lone Star when drinking Bud Light. I know serious girly-girls that'll take Lone Star or PBR over bullshit light beer any day. That might be sexist, but the ratio of women who drink shitty booze to good booze explains my resentment of "girl drinks". Yeah, frat boys, you're all fuckin' pussies for choosing Coors Light over the real thing, and to any women who read this, try a real daquiri cocktail, without eight ounces of fuckin' churned ice, and learn something new.

- Emoticons. Anyone who can't compose or read a sentence containing humor, facetiousness, or any other human emotion without adding/seeing a motherfucking smiley face needs to sit down and read some fuckin' books. Emoticons are for those whose writing and reading skills never progressed past second grade, or for the intellectually lazy. In either case, fuck you all.

- "Hipsters." Nowadays a generic term for "scenesters," AKA "sheepish fucking culture whores," calling someone a hipster used to mean something. Just because a person listens to shitty indie-rock that isn't on the radio and has taken to wearing vintage clothes doesn't mean they're hip. It means they're complete puds with no originality, a distinct lack of understanding of what makes underground culture worthwhile, and no style. Fuck 'em all. If I was a true hipster, I'd be ashamed to ever be called such.

- The internet. I'm not going to claim some old-school credentials here, but the internet sucks serious cock these days. 'Nuff said.

Excelsior, motherfuckers! I'm gonna go drink more cheap beer, listen to metal, read a book that doesn't need emoticons, and talk to women who don't immediately buy into bullshit quasi-feminism.

now playing: Mistress, "Bludgeon"