Tag Archives: Loch Ness

Pessimistic Pleasures: I Heart Complaining

17 Nov

I’m a person who is easily annoyed, just ask my family or my best friend. I can’t spend a day even shut in my bedroom without a short, sharp dose of annoyance creeping out of the woodwork and throttling me until I think the world is doomed. And lets face it, the world is in fact doomed because people are idiots.

I just so happen to have a list. Please applaud my thoughtfulness on your part because I haven’t written a list since I pleaded for a puppy one Christmas. Santa is a bastard.

1. Posts on facebook. 

Each time I check my account and see the absolute drivel people post on the site, I mourn the future of the human race. I couldn’t care less who has left X Factor or how rhythm happy a contestant’s feet are on Strictly Come Dancing. Why on earth would I give a squirt of piss whose been evicted from Big Brother?

My God, there is a whole world out there and I want to immerse myself in interesting, thought-provoking news, comments and articles which facebook just refuses to provide.

Colonel Gaddafi is caught, disturbing scenes are aired across the world showing his dead body and if facebook was a town, crickets would be heard chirping. An entire sea of crickets in a ghost town with my figure in the middle, falling to my knees and holding my head in my hands.

Yes, I know it is partly my fault. I accept the friend requests I receive and I joined facebook to begin with, but nothing can dispute the fact people post absolute garbage on that site. It could be used for greatness, yet sadly it will be remembered for spreading a below par, vast collection of sentences which insult all intelligent individuals.

2.  People who push in front of me in queues.

 As I stand in the   stereotypical British  weather:  The rain. Why does anybody think they have the right to push in front of me? And no, I can’t blame the wet, dreary weather. It happens come rain or shine because ninety-nine percent of the world is populated with rude, unlikable slugs.

I know I’m certainly not invisible, Marvel sadly didn’t create me for the sole purpose of being amazingly cool. But I do demand nobody pushes in front of me because they’re too busy pretending I’m invisible as they turn their head to the side, ignoring my withering glare.

I’m more than happy to let the elderly or disabled step on the bus first and I always do. Just because you have been on a spending spree, your arms are laden with such heavy bags you feel as though you’re sinking into the payment, it doesn’t make you disabled or any better than me, so please wait your fucking turn.

3. Idiotic men.

I received a random message on facebook earlier. Yes, another curse of joining that site. But really, the message was quite a revelation on how the male mind works.

The man had a profile picture that screamed, “I’m a man! Just look how I manly hold this chainsaw like a real man!” I was of course utterly won over by his amazing nature and his message was so deep, I felt as though I was exchanging typed words with Loch Ness.

The message: Women r cunts.

My reply: Thanks for the insightful comment. I hope the chainsaw slips.

On reflection, my sarcasm was truly misplaced. I was obviously insulting Nessie, himself. The Loch Ness Monster can’t possibly be female with a face like that.

4. Anybody who tells me to smile (Carly, this is for you!)

I bet Victoria Beckham has never eaten a Rolo...

If I’m traipsing down the street looking like my world has come crashing down, it’s not because I have suddenly realised nobody has ever given me their last Rolo. There is a genuine reason why I’m unhappy and I don’t want to hear the word, “Smile”.

When I do hear that word, I suddenly think I know how Victoria Beckham feels. People are forever complaining she doesn’t smile, but why should she? If men with cameras are chasing after her and barking, “Smile, Vicky! Smile!”, why would she, should she or could she shoot a beaming smile their way? The general public should be grateful they don’t open a magazine to be greeted with a photograph of Victoria Beckham displaying her middle finger proudly.

Anyway, I digress. Instead of telling me to flex my facial muscles and smile, I suggest you mind your own business because you’re wasting your breath and annoying me to boot.