7-list: motherfuckers I hate

In real life, I'm not a hateful motherfucker at all, although inside my insides, I do bottle up a lot of anger and frustration, usually over the stupid mistakes or bad attitudes towards regular things that I have, but I like to save them up for those rare opportunities a hilarious encounter arises that I can attempt to smash face or get my face smashed in. Those are great release therapy sessions, far better than talking to some new age older lady who wants you to put figurines in the sand to show how you feel while she spins Chinese balls in her hand like Furious Styles. But here's who the fuck I be hating upon in my secret mind lately...
#1: stupid redneck fucker at the Scottsvilel IGA last week - So I'm a housepainter dreadlocked half hippie half redneck hip hop tinged overall all over piece of shit with a goodhearted blackheart and good timed open mind. And at the local dilapidated strip mall, I like to park my piece of shit next to the curb perpendicular like you can, by the paperboxes, and just walk the strip to the IGA, past the laundromat, the shithole diner, the tax place that's closed most of the year, check the bulletin board for weird handwritten schizophrenic Jesus tracts or yard sale notices, and go to the store. Last week, I did that, and I heard somebody holler over at me, not really hearing what he said, and I saw a younger redneck dude starting to get out of his piece of shit car with busted windshield, and I thought, "Yo, dude might need a jump or something," so I yelled back, "WHAT?" Kid kinda tucked his head back into the car, so I turned to go in the store, figuring he thought I was someone else or whatever. As soon as I turn, twangy holla back goes, "FUCKIN DREADLOCK HIPPIE FAGGOT!" And the main reason I enjoy having dreadlocks is to shatter people's preconceptions on an interpersonal level, plus I have mad internal frustration, so I turned again, playing it cool, "WHAT'D YOU SAY?" Dude tucks back into the car, and that's when I see there's another dude in the passenger seat. But dude is tucking back into the car, so I step off the curb towards his car and go, "WHAT'D YOU SAY, MAN? I COULDN'T HEAR YOU." Nothing, sitting in the car, but I hear him mumble to his buddy, "He's lucky I ain't got my shit." So I yell back, "ARE YOU TRYING TO FUCK WITH ME MAN?" Nothing. Sitting in the car, doing nothing, even as I get about twenty feet from his piece of shit. So I go in the store, thinking in my head, "Okay, avoid conflict," and also figuring he was there just like I was, to buy beer, so I do the loop to the beer around the store, figuring I'll check out, he'll be a few steps behind me, so I can avoid this bullshit. Except when I get to the two registers (small town old ass grocery store), the one is all filled up with shit, and the other is just him and a pack of cigarettes. So I set my beer down on the belt, look at him and go "What's up man?" real shitty like. He just turns ahead and doesn't make eye contact. Good move, faggot shit-talking redneck. Ends up he doesn't have ID to buy cigarettes, so the old lady there won't sell them to him, even though he had a Sam's Club ID with no picture or date of birth for her, and he yells, "THIS IS BULLSHIT!" and storms out. I ask her if she knows him, ask the bagger dude, they go no, I say he was talking shit outside too. She rings me up, no ID of course since I'm a regular, and as I'm leaving, that dude rolls back in, jumps in the front of the line with her, and she just points to the door and says, "No. You just leave right now." So I hang loose outside by my truck to see what transpires, and dude storms out, jumps in his piece of shit, and peels gravel out the lot. I figure I might as well go check my PO Box since that's the way he went anyways, so I peel gravel out behind him from the other end. Luckily, he turns down the road going that way, which comes to a T-intersection. I speed to catch up, and I see them sitting at the stop sign, and the dude in the passenger seat looks back, says something, and they take the fuck off, swerving, almost ran some old lady in a minivan off the road. Of course, I took the same right, speeding, to follow them, since that's the way to the post office. I was right on their ass, then nonchalantly took another right that I had to take, leaving them to be freaked out or fucking pissed or whatever. The thing is, once I knew that dude didn't have a gun, I didn't give a fuck. I'm no Kimbo Slice or nothing, but I'd love nothing more to whip some piece of shit-talking trash redneck's ass over nothing more than his own mouth. And if it comes to freestyle hand-to-hand, I've got scrap rebar and five-in-ones (for those that don't know, a "five-in-one" is a painter's tool, which has five uses, hence the name; one of those uses, I've come learn, is to stab a stupid motherfucker in his left side) in the back of my truck at all times, so whatever. #2: The Grateful Dead - The stupid Sirius satellite radio now has a Grateful Dead channel, which I've been bumping a lot lately because other than the throwback station, I can't stand the rap stations. Last week, I jumped in the truck one day and they were playing the live show from the first show I ever went to - June something or some shit in 1991, RFK Stadium. I did mad hallucinogenics and bought mad acid back to Farmville, VA, to sell to the prep kiddies at a nice little mark-up that allowed me to not have a summer job (well, other than that of course). Hearing that "Tennessee Jed" got me fired up to quit my job (working for myself, hahaha) and go anywhere. Fuck it. Well, of course I couldn't do that sensibly because my wife doesn't really make evil bitch demands of me, and I've got an ever-growing brood of children, and none of them are actually shitty at all, although my youngest does roll her goddamned eyes too much. So there was no need to quit. But I figured I'd find some Dead shows to throw on my wife's iPod since there's very little on her iPod that interests me. Thing is, I found out this whole deal is massive capitalism trickery, as a few years back the remaining Dead corporation shut down people trading live shows, which was always a staple of being a stupid over-indulged Dead fan, having 7000 live shows on tape that you actually knew the difference between. (Getting that deep into any sub-culture is bad news, and I was never that deep into the Dead, but I knew folks who were like that.) So they shut down all this shit so that they could own the rights to all their live shows, which they release as CD bullshit things, but also apparently inked a deal to release all their lives shows on iTunes as well. Not only do I hate that bullshit, I hate the fact I just did retarded brand-specific capitalization for "iTunes" on a laptop computer. See? I should've just quit my job last week and ran as far as my credit limit would take me, find some young stupid hippie bitch who was infatuated with my rugged southern charm behind a beard and faggot dreadlocks, got her pregnant as fuck, and done it all over again until a good day like that arose again. The Dead used to be good backdrop music for reckless personal decisions like that, but now they seem to me to be more like a good bumper sticker for mortgage brokers or assistant district attorneys to slap on their six-pack sized cooler they take to go see free music in the park the first Friday evening of every month. Fuck that shit. #3: this DJ Goldfinger reggae show host on the local community radio station - Really, he's just a local example, because he plays this awesome dub reggae bullshit every other Friday afternoon, and you're all getting into it, painting some shitty house for some shitty person three thousand times more stable financially than you'll ever be in your whole life, and then he comes on and talks in monodrone voice about "I hope you're paying attention to what Alberto Gonzales has done, even now that he's gone, because the next guy is cut from the same cloth..." all low and mind-numbingly annoying, "...and we have to stay aware and open-minded" and then he'll FINALLY get back around to playing some awesome King Tubby or Sly & Robbie or something, but not after riding his organic soapbox for seven minutes. That dude in Florida who got tazed, bro, he's the same thing. Like, I know the world is fucked and the same evil fuckers who want to ban illegal immigrants were in the same frat as the same evil fuckers who want to make more food stamps for crack babies; but showing your ass or talking on the radio and shit, that's preaching to the converted or just trying to have your own ass face show up on the media barrage. That fag kid in Florida, this is the greatest thing to ever happen to him, which is telling. Now his stupid website will get more hits and he can go on Greta Van Cistern. I hope they put him in jail and some dudes who for-real hate cops rape him. Well, I don't actually hope that, but it also won't actually happen because he, in all likelihood, can afford lawyers and won't have shit like that ending up happening to him. Which is why the liberal open-minded-to-the-point-of-being-closed type people piss me off. When you are some organic fruit picking Zen Buddhist Barack Obama-ite who has allowed the Bushhitler phenom to give you something to diatribe against for eight years, how the fuck can you understand bread-crumb ridden grade D meatloaf for supper three days in a row? And I never ate that shit that bad, but I lived in a trailer and had my dad's girlfriend give us her welfare food and food stamps since my dad was fucking her right well, so I can at least understand enough in life to know that all them fuckers don't give a fuck. They don't give a fuck. Anybody who cares about politics is a stupid privileged piece of shit. Everybody else would rather get drunk or get high and not vote, and eventually you stupid privileged pieces of shit will put so many of us in jail we'll be like, "Whoa... fuck this bullshit!" And then we'll kill a whole bunch of each other but have enough venomous hatred to senselessly kill some of you, too. That shit's gonna be tight. #4: people who say "ghetto" - Usually it's some college-bound chick complaining because her '05 Camry's interior light won't work. I also find it incredibly hate-inducing when scrawny white gurls with the ass of 11-year-old boys say they have a "ghetto booty". Completely unrelatedly, I remember some stupid chick in high school, while we were both high as fuck at some field bonfire party, explaining to me that supposedly black dudes had bigger dicks because of a chemical in chicken grease. That shit was funnier than fuck to me because, one, she was scientifically being a racialist, and two, I eat fried chicken like every day and my dick's still small as fuck. That's probably why I so needlessly hate so many trifling ass minute things #5: whoever knew about this Earthless shit Rhythms From a Cosmic Sky and didn't tell me about it - This is awesome. It's like some Kyuss/better Queens of the Stone Age bullshit inbred with early Hawkwind space brainy metal jammy fuckedness. Don't get it twisted though, most "ironic" metal, which has become a huge genre since so many kids who grew up knowing thrash metal was the purest of musics in the '80s ended up going to college in the '90s and now are old enough to focus on having a shitty band that has dedicated practice times once a week in '00s, but all that "ironic" metal lacks gut. It's like former fratboy businessmen having a softball team, but just for the kids who never did well at sports because they were too cool to try. Actually, I'd say any form of metal music made by people who don't think weed is part of this nutritionally balanced breakfast are not making for-real metal; and I don't even smoke weed on a daily basis. I don't like to pretend I'm the next incarnation of Mastodon on bass either though. #6: Rick Reilly and similar smug bastard pseudo-clever sports columnists - I listen to more sports radio than I'd be proud to admit to, being it's a good numbing drone for the background while I'm stealing some "window time" (which is the construction world's affectionate term for riding around in your truck doing a bunch of shit under the guise of having to go get some supplies for the job you're at, thus charging the client for you riding around all day looking at used records and eating a three-piece chicken snack from the gas station), but man, sports radio is really stupid. Like probably the stupidest thing I willingly allow to enter my brain through my ears. But the worst is when the shitty hosts get shitty ESPN/SI columnists to come on the show, so you get Rick Reilly, who I've always hated because his shit is like really funny if you were into second-rate stand-up comedians in 1982, plus he has that introspective pic of himself, looking all ready to fight a couple dicks to find an extra-tough one to throw in his mouth (although, to be fair, he's not as bad as that other bald-headed happy-smiled dude who somehow managed to take the high bar Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins set for looking like an actual living walking penis and raised it just a half-inch higher). And I guess instead of being hateful, I should be thankful for Dan Patrick being gone from the AM airwaves, so I didn't have to hear him interviewing Rick Reilly about Britney Spears and mentioning how great the new Kanye West album was (because they are down with black people since Stuart Scott is one of their best friends) and making stale jokes about shooting Barry Bonds' record baseball into space. And it sorta bothers me, because if these dudes are getting paid for slapping together their lightweight sports-angled Dave Barry fluff pieces, then that must mean there are really that many dumbasses out there in this world who pretend that's entertaining. But I guess there might be. I mean, Louie Anderson is still on Fox's NFL Sunday doing the same tired John Madden impression he did on Family Feud seven years ago, so the average dude's brain must be watered down by softcore Maxim pictorials and monosodium glutamate-laced ranch dressing they dip their 6 for $7 chicken wings in. I never understood chicken wings either, to be honest. I took the fam out for dinner after youth soccer practice today (I be coaching the youth of America on how to futbol their way to a more confident future), and I almost got chicken wings at the joint. But then I remembered, oh yeah, that's the most unfleshy part of a chicken, dipped in sticky sauce, and then baked to a crusty, hard-to-find actual meat perfection. But I would guess picking through a plate full of bone-heavy chicken parts while laughing at Tony Kornheiser's oy vey routine on ESPN would probably equal, "HAHAHA! Dude, you gotta read what Rick Reilly wrote about Isaiah Thomas this week!" By the way, I'm glad Hunter S. Thompson is dead. The other week, I was wasting time at the library and I took that Hey Rube book of his ESPN Page 2 columns off the shelf... man, that shit was terrible. And it only would've gotten worse by now. #7: suicide victims - I'm not one who believes suicide is a pussy-ass move, because it takes some guts to swallow a hollow point in your bedroom while nobody else is around, but still, when it gets so ugly you want to die, fuck it man. Run away, go join the carnival, go kill whoever made you so sad and see how prison shakes out. That's the best I could come up with to finish this shit off, because honestly, I couldn't even think of seven people I truly hate. But it's late, I'm slightly inebriated and should already be cuddled under the comforter enjoying some good pre-fall sleeping weather, but instead I spent like an hour writing some dumb shit for some dumbass blog that like only 9 people will see, and then only like 4 of them will even halfway care about it, much less enjoy. If anyone should kill themself, it would be me, although, again, rather than kill myself, perhaps I should refocus my energies, and instead of writing stupid blog bullshits for no one I know for real, I could masturbate to bi-racial bestiality fantasies, or even try to finish reading one of the 7000 books laying around I've read the first fifty pages of. Instead, I'll just post this, google my own name, then laugh at people on craigslist. (Actually, all I'll do is post this, then go to bed; I mostly said the other things to mock what I have as a stereotype of what people like you do. You should feel free to make mocking stereotypes of me in the comments section. No one ever comments to my dumb shit, and nothing makes me happier than reading glaringly accurate stereotypes about myself.)