5 Kinds Of People I Don’t Like Part 3

I realize that I just did one of these posts last week, but there are never enough posts bitching about people. You know why? Because they suck. You suck, your mom sucks, I suck. We all suck occasionally. We are all in someone’s way. We misjudged how much space it would take to back up our car and end up doing a three point turn while holding up a line of traffic. We only realize that we forgot our wallet after everything is rung up, because apparently, before that, we were too busy filling our buttholes with our thumbs. We all suck.

This post is not about the occasional sucking though. This post is about ways certain people consistently suck. They got on a suck train a long time ago and are determined to ride it to the last station. All aboard the last train to Sucktown. Choo choo! Chugga chugga sucka sucka sucka.

How many times can I say suck in two paragraphs? All of them. Suck suck suck.


1. Venters.

My sister is a venter and I’ve gotten very adept at uh-huh-ing and no-way-ing in a way that makes it seem like I’m listening, but I’m not. Venters are people who bitch to you constantly about everything in their lives. They essentially use you as a therapist. I’m not even sure if my sister cares or even notices that I’m not really paying attention. She just has to bitch for a while and then she feels better. Sometimes, as a total afterthought, she’ll ask me how my day went.

“I just need to vent about my coworkers for a minute.”

Thirty nine minutes later…

“Yeah, so can you believe that bitch? Anyway, how are you?”


No notice friends.

I have a friend who is a huge pain in the ass. The problem is, he lives next door to me.

He always complains that he can’t get me out of the house when the only time he ever asks me to do anything is, for example, on Tuesday night at 11pm when I am already in bed for the night and I just took a sleeping pill. Had he given me a few hours notice, I might have been able to make arrangements, but he wants to do everything right now.

He once texted me at 3:30 on a weekday to see if I wanted to see a 4pm movie. I was at work. Even if I had left work at that exact moment, it would have taken longer than a half hour to get to the theater.

And then he complains that I never want to do anything. Sigh.

Picture 1

(This same friend is currently holding a letter from Rarasaur hostage. Somehow it was delivered to him by mistake. It’s sitting in his house while he’s out of town for who knows how long and I can’t retrieve it.)

Obsessive over hobbies types.

I have a friend who has taken to cycling. Good for her. But now, that’s all she talks about ever. Whenever I see her, all she talks about now is cycling, her bike, her bike friends, places she’s ridden, where she plans to ride, her opinion on fixies, what kind of seat is best, what kind of helmet is best, helmet laws, and especially how shitty people in cars are.

I’m a person in a car and never once have I ever hit a cyclist, but the way she tells it, drivers are the devil. We’re all out to kill cyclists at our earliest opportunity, like a real world game of Grand Theft Auto.


Obsessive over celebrity types.

I have a confession to make. I’ve never watched a reality television show. I mean, I’ve seen bits and pieces here and there, but I’ve never been a regular viewer of any reality television show. I get enough reality in my daily life; I don’t want to watch it for fun.

I have absolutely no idea why people like Kim Kardashian, Farrah Abraham, Tila Tequila or Jasmine Waltz are famous. Back in my day, celebrities were people who did things. They weren’t always things that required a lot of talent, but at least they did things besides just breathe and say “you know” a lot.

I can’t stand people who talk about celebrities as if they know them or like they’re personal friends, or worse, when they actually cry over them when they die. I was sad when Tommy Ramone died because it was the end of an era. I was devastated when Adam Yauch died, because it meant no more Beastie Boys ever, but they were not my friends. I did not know them. I did not cry.

Kim got a lip lift, Farrah ate a baby, Paris shoved a gerbil up her butt… I do not care. I do not care at all. Shut it.


The instantly judgmental.

Your dog is skinny, so you must be mistreating your dog. Never mind the fact that you just rescued the poor thing from some other asshole who was actually the one who mistreated it.

Your child is acting up in a store, so you must be a bad parent. Never mind the fact that there could be a billion legitimate reasons for that. Let’s just blame it on bad parenting.

You’re overweight so you must be lazy. You’re too skinny so you must be anorexic. Etc, etc, etc. There are a million reasons to judge people based on facts. Let’s try not to jump to conclusions, people.