Mixed bag

Some things that I dislike, or that positively gross me out:




Devilled eggs. I don't care who says they are a 'comfort food' and 'remind them of being a kid.' That's no excuse. People do stupid shit when they are kids, like shoving blueberries up their noses and eating dirt. Doesn't make it okay. Devilled eggs are gross.





The Coreys. Which is worse? I don't know and I am not sure I care to find out. Sure, sure, we all have a little soft spot for them in our heart. They were great in 'The Lost Boys' and 'License to Drive', not to mention 'Dream a Little Dream' but now they are either bloated, scabbed with meth scars or overly sensitive, pale, vaguely sweaty men that you might see watching little boys and girls do gymnastics or attending cheerleading competitions. Lawsuit waiting to happen, people.





Thousand Island Dressing. Need I even say more? Okay, I will: Thousand Island Dressing in a giant tub.





Ferrets and people who keep ferrets as pets. You make my skin crawl. Ferrets are not pets. They are vermin. There are special kinds of dogs bred just to kill them.





Okay, CATHY. This is really a task: how to express my extreme hatred and disgust towards this cartoon. It is everything I hate. There, not bad, eh?





Really long, naturalistic, fake sideburns. Real sideburns are bad enugh (see below), do we need fake ones? Please note also that these are made of REAL HUMAN HAIR. Holy. Shit.





Sideburns, real ones. These take time and effort to grow and groom. There is still no cure for AIDS, people. What are we doing with our time? If the answer is 'just giving it a little trim around the edges,' you too are guilty.





Men in overalls. This is a tricky one. I love me some Huckleberry Finn, BUT once you are ably to drink legally and are not just stealing snitches of your pappy's moonshine, then it is time to gently fold up the overalls, place them in a trunk and throw them in the river. They are a thing of youth. My alma mater, Oberlin College, had its share of post-pubescent overall wearers. If you want to be 'that guy' who goes barfeoot *everywhere* had a special pouch in his back for a hackysack, makes his own special patchouli blend and most likely keeps a ferret as a pet, then by all means, slip on some comfy Oshkoshes. But it has a very, very ugly side-effect (see below).





The darker side of overalls.


I'm all tuckered out now. I'm in a very dark place.