More Things That Can F*#king Eat Me

by H D Thompson

– Enthusiastic housemates. I don’t care that you have managed to cross off all the things on your to do list before midday, I really don’t. I don’t care that you actualised your dreams, I really don’t. All I care about is lying here on this couch, in this dark room, eating these end-of-day-discount donuts and watching The Golden Girls. Please take your enthusiasm for life to another room and fuck it if it’s that tangible.

– Whoever the fuck keeps naming Melbourne the world’s most liveable city or whatever. Please stop, my rent is high enough as it is, fuck off and stop making my home expensive.

– Political flyers. Don’t tell me how to cast my vote. The only thing I want to be told to cast is a spell on my first day at Hogwarts, a fishing line into an ocean of bagels, or myself in a role in a caveman-themed porno starring opposite Jake Gyllenhaal and an early 90s Ethan Embry.

– Non-alcoholic wine. Oh? Why don’t I just go eat a non-healthy banana or sit on a non-sitting chair and write with my dick on a notepad of god damned air and marry the puppy and EAT THE NEIGHBOUR AARGH. Fuck. You.

– Emoticons. It’s time to die. Emojis have surpassed you totally and completely. Give it up parenthetical colons, you are no longer wanted.

– The phrase “Let them eat cake”. Get the fuck away from the cake, it’s mine and I will not share.

– Splashes of grey hairs in my beard. Go hard or go home pussies, don’t speckle my face with your toe-dipping palette. Blackbeard or Anderson Cooper, none of this young Clooney shit.

– Pens that run out of ink when I can see that there is some left. Your body casing is clear, I can see your insides and they are literally full of ink. STOP LYING TO ME PEN.

– Self-sticking stamps. Way to take all the fun out of the entire mail industry, assholes. That lick was one of the greatest treasures in life. Fuck you.

– The direction my penis points when trawling for sex. Come on buddy, make better choices or just shut the fuck up. Neither of us have time for this crap.

– Crayons with flavours and smells. I had a hard enough time not eating you back when you smelled and tasted like garbage, thanks for enabling crayon-eating children everywhere; I hope your streets are lined with their rainbow coloured shit.

– Mars Bars. Work, rest AND play? I don’t think so. Pick one, assholes.

– Shark Haters. FUCK. If aliens came to town and felt like playing in your backyard and then felt threatened by you and hunted and killed you and a bunch of people you knew just so they could vacay-away for a day, you would be confused and pissed too. I wouldn’t be surprised if sharks one day evolved to take to land and ate everyone that betrayed them. I would welcome our shark overlords, and I would probably take one of them as a lover.

– Early morning joggers. You disgust me. Dawn is the end credits to the film of the night before. Your cinema isn’t even clean yet, let alone ready for seating, the rest of us are still composing ourselves and we don’t need your judgement. Go the fuck back to bed THERE IS NO WORM THE WORM IS A LIE.

– Melbourne’s public transport ticketing inspectors. I hope you’re happy sleeping at night on your mattresses made of tears and nightmares. I know it’s not your fault that your entire existence is flawed but how about not being such fucking cunts, yeah. I would piss on your grave if I believed you had a pulse and actually had the ability to die.

– Surprise spiders. I’m not a huge fan of regular spiders – I even keep my distance from dead ones in museums – so I really don’t appreciate you little fuckers emerging from your portal from hell to crawl across my face as I am napping peacefully. Crawl out of the drain when I’m about to shower? Nope. From under the seat in that dingy toilet block in that beat I like? Nope. Emerging from the mouth of my now-dead housemate as you lay eggs inside her and use her body as an incubator for your demon army? Absolutely not. And stay out of my gumboots, I have big feet and I’m not afraid to use them to walk to the store and buy new gumboots.

– Internet commenters. Your drivel makes me happy that the youth of the world is making good decisions. I am glad homophobia, racism, sexism, and misogyny are all dying ideals and that you young people get along so well and can share your lovely utopian views freely and so lovingly. Truly inspiring. I bet your assholes taste like rainbows.

– Spring winds. Oh Spring, I love you, with your morning coldness and your daytime warmness and the animals with the screwing, but settle the fuck down with your pollen-ridden bitchwind, ok? My sinuses were not built to handle your jelly. Go gentle or go home. Ease up on the unsettling of dustmites as well. I like my dustmites like I like my heart – cold and dormant.

– The mess involved in gay sex. The next time you straight people go on about how messy your sex life is; imagine it with twice as much cum and then get back to me.

– Hold music. When did it get so modern and annoying? Vivaldi me, bitches.

– Sharp corners. Nothing against you personally, but if you were blunt and maybe a bit softer we would get along. As it were you are cuntsticks in my side and the bruises I have gathered from you over the years could paint a fucking mural.

– ‘Family Sized’ frozen meals. Who are these tiny families eating these stingy portions of food? Just call them ‘sad single hungover people sized’ and get real about it.

– People in off-leash dog parks that yell at you for having your dog off-leash. How about learning to read before leaving the house buddy. I don’t care how homeless you seem, there are plenty of other parks to live in where dogs are uniformly tethered to your pleasure.

– Where’s Wally. I’m sorry; how self absorbed do you have to be to think that we actually care about where you are? There are so many interesting things happening around you that are way more fun than searching for some boring dude with a one-note wardrobe and an ego complex. No thanks, you can fuck off and die in a hole for all I care, I’m gonna hang out with this Viking dog that’s reading a scroll and go on whatever adventure he is about to have, because you can be damned sure it isn’t hiding in a crowd somewhere with a fuckdumb look on his face waiting for attention.

– People who offer to giftwrap things at stores. How dare you presume that I have someone to give a gift to. I buy myself things to fill the void of human contact, so excuse me while I now go home and cry into my new chocolate fountain you god damned monster.

– Fake flowers. How about I give a fake fuck? Melt away and disappear please.

– ‘Guilt Free’ desserts. Sister, you don’t even know the meaning of the word.

– Dirty dishes, because let’s face it; we can land on a moving comet but we can’t have self-cleaning dishes and we’re all on the same page here.

– Supermarket receipt coupons. You used to be cool, now you’re just some garbage that I used to know. I don’t want discounts on a fucking cruise or tyres or pest control; I want cheap pizza and video rentals like every other poor person who shops at supermarkets.

– Shoes that last one week and cost as much as an ice cream. I don’t know what you’re paying your small children China, but it’s obviously too much. You need to up the ante on production value. Take away a lunch break here and there, that will inspire some quality in these kids’ work because I feel like they’re skills are completely slacking – I could thread together a better conversation when I’m 35% amphetamines getting spit-roasted by a football team. Unacceptable.

– Expiry dates. Why can’t everything just last forever? You are ruining my life.

– And of course, still and probably forever; Tony Abbott.

#H

(Part 2 to last years rant.)