We all have somebody we don't like for no reason. I am sure there are a few people out there in the world wide web who are thinking that this is false and that they love every woman, man, and everything in between. Want my opinion? You are lying and irrationally dislike somebody.

Join me in my list of reasons why I dislike people I do not know.

The reason comedians can joke about other people is because they usually joke about themselves first. Depending on how funny the comedian is, this can either be perfectly executed with the right amount of personal attacks on both themselves and a stranger in the audience, or it can go terribly wrong leading to hisses and boos from the five people who turned up to mock the poor wannabe comedian. I have never, and will never, try stand up comedy. Shout out to the sighs of relief coming from my readers. My sense of humour relies purely upon lame jokes I have stolen from various 90s comedies and catchy one liners I have tweaked from the internet. For this reason (and lets be honest, for so many more) a lot of people would join in on the 'throwing rotten fruit at the loud ginger' on stage wagon. You're too kind.

The reason I say this is because I have seen a few comedy routines in my time and have quickly disliked a person based on their opening line. Armed with a stomach full of cider one evening, myself and a few friends thought we would give amateur comedy night a looksie. The night was a drunken blur of laughter, face-palms and I'm not going to lie, a drenched t-shirt after I lost the ongoing war I have with gravity. What got to me were the many brave people who got on stage and managed to silence the audience with the worst jokes in the world. A man joking about periods can be hilarious. Seriously, I'm all about equal rights. If a dude wants to make Aunty Flow jokes then please be my guest. But for the love of all things good, don't taint them with all things vulgar, or at least do it tastefully. I  remember (well, heard the next morning) somebody had made a 'period' joke but it silenced the audience and had us (boys and girls) quietly plotting his slow and painful death. Luckily I do not remember this person so I cannot hold onto this irrational hate. But, whoever you were - you sucked. Big time.

There are some funny buggars out there and hell I love a great body shaking laugh. But what I hate are those people who think that they are so damn funny they deserve a great big trophy. The thing is, people who think they are funny are usually the most try-hard douche-bags ever (sarcasm and hypocricy intended). We all know somebody like this, and chances are if you don't then TAG you're it. Lucky son of a bitch. You know what I would like to do to people like these? Duct tape their mouths shut, put on Wayne's World and teach them what comedy is. Because poorly crafted English accents and the overrated Golem impression just does not cut it any more.

Bitch face. This tends to cater to the female population of the world. There are those unfortunate females out there whose faces permanently resemble somebody who has eaten a giant sack of their own faecal matter. At dinner one time a group of us were fascinated by this beautiful girl who sat at a large table surrounded by people. You would think that in a circumstance such as this you would be enjoying yourself, or at least pretending to. But no, this girl ate her Teriyaki chicken on rice and scowled the entire time. The pinched look on her face didn't seem out of place. Instead, it looked like she had spent her entire life cursing the world and eating shit out of her handbag. So what did we do? We wrote a note telling her to cheer up, and share her breakfast with the poor boy who had been hitting on her all evening. Helping a sister AND a brother out - yeah girl.

 Having gone to Otago University I am familiar with the 'bitch face' population. It is a trend for these girls to flock down south, put on small dresses, high heels, a tonne of Mac lipstick and give the middle finger (or at least the face version of this) to every man and his dog. Like I get it, if I had to wear gigantic heels and designer labels I too would probably curse the world and all of my first world problems. But seriously, why you gotta look like a bad ass duck? I dislike all bitch faces, for no reason other than they can't bloody smile. This could have something to do with my eagerness to please and possible ADHD... As one of the Brady kids once quoted in every single episode "I never thought of it like that" Cue the happy upbeat music and high five.

People without manners. This is something I cannot comprehend. How hard is it to say "Hi can I please have *insert something you might want here* Thank you" instead of "Oi C**T. Gimme that!" Nobody has actually ever said that to me, but this is a pretty big world. People say some pretty rude things. But seriously. We learnt manners when we were little. Mum used to go on a rampage at the library when kids didn't use their manners and I can't thank her enough for frightening little children back then because the chances are they say please and thank you now. And you know what? Manners get you everywhere! There is a reason this is a common expression. It is actually true! There needs to be some uplifting music and a montage to emphasise this point better than my fumbling fingers can manage. I have received so many free 'things' (damn I'm witty) in my life that if I kept them in my room they would take up a fairly large portion of space. And you know why? Because I use manners. Shock freaking horror you rude ass bitches.

How you like them apples now?

Bitch out.

So here I am on a Saturday afternoon drinking Crisp Apple Tea out of a tea-cup and bathing in the glorious cold air that is forever in my flat. Probably a good time to blog. Except my keyboard has been a little 'off colour lately'. When I write a sentence or two it likes to back track and insert words into previous statements so I get paragraphs with the occasional "Kinfreakd regards, KdearMrsatie" Like, I get it. Just another case of the good old keyboard trying to have a laugh. But in having typed only this far I have had to find where I have messed up, backspace, make changes, and give the keyboard the fingers. Not the fast tapping fingers that gracefully brush over the buttons in a carefree and familiar way. Oh no. My keyboard is getting abused with punchy fists and swear words.

This has got me thinking. How often do we find ourselves swearing at inanimate objects and cursing their very being? I have found myself doing this far too often and am now going to share with you a tale of my relationship with objects. So, dear reader, lean back in your chair, put on a jumper, take off your shoes and take delight in knowing that you are not the only insane person out there. Ahhhh the comfort.

On a side note, I am about to hurl this bloody keyboard down the stairs and scream Bloody Mary.

My Toes and Everything on the Floor


For all intents and purposes I am going to lump everything that could possibly 'live' on the floor into this category. I am an extremely clumsy person. Sometimes I will be standing upright when wham bam thank you Ma'am I'm on the floor with a sore behind and a confused expression. I have never actually seen my expression when I fall, but I can imagine it is a mixture of chins and confusion. It is hard to look attractive when gravity is bringing you to your knees. Being the clumsy person that I am stubbing my toe has become second nature to me. I have a theory. Stubbing your big toe is worse than child-birth. There, I said it. Now I have never actually given birth (touch wood - ha see what I did there? Little bit of sexual innuendo for you naive ones out there who haven't quite grasped sexually explicit material) but I can imagine that the two are in the same category. I know this statement is going to get me into a lot of trouble with my fellow women friends (sup ladies) but at least I'm not a male who claims that getting kicked in the testicles is worse than giving birth. Lets not even get started on that can of worms.... But here is a pain that both sexes can share and hate. Even thinking about it I want to hurl chairs, stomp on phones, kick stairs and scream at loose bricks. Stubbing your toe is one of the most infuriating and teeth gritting experiences. Ever. Honestly. If I had to choose between eating a big bag of crap or stubbing my toe I'd be chowing down on that bag of crap and asking for seconds. Why I would ever get that choice, or why somebody would collect crap in a bag (manure perhaps) is beyond me. But seriously. Ouch. Like holy mother of God don't talk to me for at least five minutes while I plot a long slow and painful death on the staircase who wasn't there five minutes ago but just popped up and got in the way of my foot. I will end you.

Call me, Maybe?


My phone is a piece of crap. Sometimes it likes to freeze, change words (damn you auto correct), call people in my pocket, turn itself off, and just make a bloody nuisance of itself. Now I know there is some smart ass out there who is saying "buy a new bloody phone and blog about something else" and my thoughts to this? Yeah, righto. Will do. It will save me many minutes of "arghfuckingphone!" yells when I'm walking down the street, and will save a lot of phone-calls from my ass to random people whose numbers I have saved in a hasty 'lets be friends' moments only to forget who they actually are....

I'm sort of running out of things to write about the angry moments I have had with objects.

I need a shower and I've been eating chips and gherkin dip. My mouth tastes like the bag of crap I was eating as an alternative to stubbing my toe.

Now the bloody laptop is dying. First world problems all up in here. Might blog tomorrow. Make up for this sorry excuse to tell people just how much I hate stubbing my toe.

Peace.