(Part 2) I Hate Computer Cookies Trilogy

I hate that poetry is mocked yet writing lyrics is cool. Ignore the critics. Express yourself on a page, trust me, it will set you free.

I hate people who dare to paint their front door illuminous green, no, no, no. You are not edgy and cool and pushing the boundaries, you are out of touch,just like undercuts, 16 hole Doc Martens and Def leopard back patches.

I hate back seat drivers, if I ever want a co-pilot Iíd ask. Nobody ever goes up to the pilot of a plane and offers ď Hey Bud, might be quicker if we swing by the Cape Verde Islands there!Ē

I hate small talk, but itís necessary, and therefore you will never detect my boredom in any conversation.

I hate seeing my youth ebb away. I wish I knew how valuable and fleeting it was. You just wake up old one day.

I hate the millions of charity adverts on TV every Christmas as I am trying to eat my Christmas dinner. I didnít ask Santa for a dollop of guilt.
I hate people who are regularly fashionably late, you are not, you are an ignorant P word.

I hate the ďI'll have a Diet Coke with that Double Decker Extar Large mealĒ type people, thatís akin to putting a band aid plaster on a decapitation.

I hate sportsmen that wear their collar up. Ye are not Eric Cantona, and the collar is actually wearing you.

I hate that Iím not 6ft 3 and hard as nails, for some reason I think life would be less complicated.
I hate too much fake tan. The Oompa Loompa look is not in fashion, and hopefully never will be.
I detest the ending in the Game of Thrones TV series, if you thought that was satisfying, then I hate you too.
I hate the new Star Wars franchise, why is white man now bad? Why destroy a beloved canon?Keep politics out of our movies please.

I hate the Irish tan line and how we insist on getting a base layer of burn before we consider using sun cream. Burned Irish people on the beach are the unsexiest things on the planet. Them and slugs.

I hate people that step on spiders. Those are biological machines, 4 billion years in the making. Mosquitoes on the other hand, they deserve death, no justification needed, we all agree. The buzz of a mosquito passing my ear as I lie in bed still sends shivers.

I hate having to repeat myself and I am not a fan of hypocrisy, I repeat, hypocrisy does my nut in.
I hate that recently only one side of any argument seems to be allowed to be voiced. Scepticism is not allowed these days, let alone encouraged. That should scare you.

I hate the inconsistencies in the world. Did you ever notice that the masses are not clammering for the likes of Japan or Africa to diversify? Why? Feminists are not banging down the door of middle Eastern countries to achieve equal status for their fellow women, why not? yet in the Western world they fight for the right of men to be women? Alas, I digress onto sacred cow issues, let me steer back into sociably acceptable waters.

I hate that we are all born to die. Who accepted those terms? what a terrible deal, we will lose everyone we love, jeez, I would have rolled the dice again, but maybe thatís why life is so precious, fragile, difficult and addictive.

I hate people who answer their mobiles in the cinema. The twats of society who think the world revolves around them.
I am not fond of dog owners who donít pick up their dogís litter. Their theatrics in not witnessing the event are comical. I often reflect on a beautiful potential irony. The neglectful dog owner stamping in anothers dog doo the following day. Surely they would take it on the chin, no complaints!?

I hate how politicians never answer the question and patronisingly insist that they have clearly stated this or that. How many politicians would enter the game if they were not allowed to connect their name to any achievements? But they will tell you itís merely to serve the people...

I hate sporting injuries. Taking away my training is akin to confiscating heroin from a junkie. Nobody talks about the unhealthy addictions that arise from Sport and the consequent withdrawals when it is removed. A sporting life can be an unbalanced life too. There is a necessary debate there.

I hate vu vu zelas at sporting events. I hate modern day narcism. Put your top back on!.
I hate celebrity culture, being famous merely for being famous.
Where is my mind?
Written by BITS (Butterfly in the Storm)
Author's Note
Second part of an essay I wrote on things that get on my wick. I am driving through my beloved Nenagh City. It was morning school rush hour. Already nearly 20 degrees, what's rare is wonderful in Ireland.
The music I used was my piano version of Where is my Mind - The Pixies.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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