What do you hate?
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Okay. Deep breath. I won’t be political. I’ll just list everything off the top of my head.
I hate:
Toxic fans, Cheeto dust, chalk, running out of pen ink halfway through a sketch, hearing people pronounce something wrong when you know how to say it correctly, jazz music, Ashfur, movies with historical anachronisms, homophobes, ASMR, sitting next to someone drenched in body spray, iced tea, drop crotch pants, the way denim feels, buttered popcorn jelly beans, that Padmé died, that stupid face my brother makes, people who tell me I’m shy, having to go up more than two flights of stairs in a row, those revolting individually wrapped cheese slices, mustard, that I’m not a cat, taking naps, Toy Story, getting crap stuck in my hair, children, nearly all humans, that I’m not aloud to bite chunks out of people’s arms when the mood strikes me, junk mail, Simply Southern shirts (what exactly is simple or southern about sea turtles and elephants full of intricate patterns?), potatoes.
I’ll stop now.
I hate that my favorite restaurant closes early on Sundays.
