You Know What Grinds My Gears? - Things that personally piss you off

I miss taking my time in book stores without being repelled out of them by the freak weirdos who hang out there for the degenerate bullshit the stores now carry in mass quantities. The anime/manga is always mushed right up against the tabletop media and the horror novels. Not only do I have to walk through a fucking tunnel of softcore cartoon child porn cover art, but I have to deal with being in close proximity to the dregs of humanity who shop for that shit.

There was a little pack of three of them this time, with one looking the part quite a bit too well. Fat, balding ~20 years early, dirty ill-fitting clothes, pedo glasses, creepy facial expressions and holy dogshit, the smell. The fucking smell. I imagine all three of them were stinking, but that third one I described already looks exactly like how he/that group smelled, which was like unwashed clothes, stale basement, "bodily fluids", sweat, farts, piss, BO, goyslop and predominantly skunk weed. All he was missing were some pronoun pins that I honestly may have missed because I didn't stick around for that particular safari subject.

Repulsive shit and repulsive fucks who make me not want to go places when I really want to go places piss me off. I really don't want to be a hermit, but it's often better than the alternative at this rate.
 
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My mom and dad showing me their form of lolcow, some dude named brian who reviews food and shit, and says the exact same thing every fucking review. Also some old boomer who feeds racoons. Their video of choice is Daily Dose of Internet, which if you don't know is a blander, less-offensive modern version of Ray William Johnson

They then drink wine and do pub trivia practice quizzes that they find on YouTube. And then go on about some show on Netflix that I'm never even going to muster the ability to care watching.

My parents are normies, if you haven't guessed.
 
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Socialism of any kind. When I was young, it was tolerable. I thought they were deluded, or were fixated on some bad ideas. Then it became obvious they were just malicious shits who all wanted to be king. In 1990 I thought it was finally over - the Wall came down, the Bolshevik Empire fell, and they were trying to do the same in China. Just a matter of time.

Nope. I knew Lefties at the time, still associated with them, saw their shock - and then watched as they just started it up all over again. I watched them infiltrate an Episcopal church, play on the sympathies of Christians to get their female priest in as pastor, then gut the church finances and sell off the property. The laity was desperate to buy their own church back, but the Lefties refused in gleeful spite. Joked about it to each other.

More than thirty years later. Watching them use the public schools to recruit new members. Deliberately graduating illiterate students. Now they're trying to castrate them for profit, and teaching them to use pronouns to identify the Children of Landru and inflict hate on those Not Of The Body. Changing every movie, TV show and video game to reflect their ideology. Now they're robbing trains in LA and looting stores in all the major cities. And then I have to hear them lecture me on social media, listening to their arrogant ignorance and condescending stupidity, all the while being fully aware that they KNOW they're wrong, revel in it, revel in all the mayhem and damage they're deliberately and maliciously inflicting on "bourgeois" society, even as they suck up to rich Democrats and corporate sponsors. All the racist and sexist hypocrisy. Then they react with outrage when we aren't sufficiently grateful, as they get rich from their selfish and spiteful efforts on our behalf...

Over half a century of these dirty little shits now. I'll never see the end of them. Never.

A spider on a light switch doesn't even come close.
 
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Rick The Stick said:
Every day when I get home, my cat greets me at the car and then immediately latches onto my foot and I cannot get him to let go. I have to juke the little bastard with the other foot and make my escape in the small window when I'm free. Then he fucking stares at me like I'm the asshole. Little cunt.
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That may be annoying to you but sounds adorable from a third person point of view.
 
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I hate it when anything that is surreal and imaginative is attributed to drugs. I get why people do that, but it still irritates me. Like God forbid that someone actually has an active imagination! How dare someone uses their capacity for abstract thought to create new ideas! Ironically, the people I know who do use drugs regularly have little to no imaginations or creativity whatsoever. It makes sense since all those drugs destroy their brains anyway.
 
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DOUBLE_WHEEL said:
When you're drawing with headphones in and someone comes up to ask you what you're drawing. Even worse is if they ask for a drawing after bothering you. I now respond by asking for a ridiculous sum of money as payment.
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If they do pay your ridiculous sums, remember to draw low quality random doodles. That's how Picasso got rich.
 
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About one year ago a terrible plague descended upon my quiet, sleepy little hometown. It announced itself with a thunderous roar and charged down our little roads - a vast, black beast that cared not for whom it brought its frightening wrath to, for it knew that to dare step upon and block its path would be suicide. This beast has gone by many names over the years, but the one we whisper in hushed tones, silently praying the mere uttering of it does not draw its ire, is a simple one: Boy Racer.

Boy racers in general are just one of many zits on the asscrack of British society, but the one that lives in our village is a particularly nasty case. The fucker spends every single goddamn day driving his shitty car up and down the roads at speeds even the Germans would be horrified by. He goes out several times and can be heard roaring around with his boy racer butt buddies at 3 AM almost every single night, and we're all sure if he keeps getting faster he's going to get someone killed. Fuck him.
 
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Coelacanth said:
About one year ago a terrible plague descended upon my quiet, sleepy little hometown. It announced itself with a thunderous roar and charged down our little roads - a vast, black beast that cared not for whom it brought its frightening wrath to, for it knew that to dare step upon and block its path would be suicide. This beast has gone by many names over the years, but the one we whisper in hushed tones, silently praying the mere uttering of it does not draw its ire, is a simple one: Boy Racer.

Boy racers in general are just one of many zits on the asscrack of British society, but the one that lives in our village is a particularly nasty case. The fucker spends every single goddamn day driving his shitty car up and down the roads at speeds even the Germans would be horrified by. He goes out several times and can be heard roaring around with his boy racer butt buddies at 3 AM almost every single night, and we're all sure if he keeps getting faster he's going to get someone killed. Fuck him.
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"Oi bruv, he just 'avin a bit offa laff".

Seriously though, HE'S gonna get killed if he pulls some stupid shit. A lot of people from where I'm from end up as tree and awning decorations from making one wrong swerve or trying to beat (ignore) a light
 
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I'm frustrated at the insane prices of king crab that just never go down. They're an invasive species in American waters that breed faster than anything else can kill them while they're contributing to the decline of fish in the ocean. They're taking over waters shallow enough to put on a dive suit and physically go grab one with your own hand, which some people do for sport. A single weighted net will harvest a batshit insane amount of the fuckers.

And on top of that, it's frustrating because they know that if they lowered the price, they'd move way more of a near infinite supply.
 
Coelacanth said:
About one year ago a terrible plague descended upon my quiet, sleepy little hometown. It announced itself with a thunderous roar and charged down our little roads - a vast, black beast that cared not for whom it brought its frightening wrath to, for it knew that to dare step upon and block its path would be suicide. This beast has gone by many names over the years, but the one we whisper in hushed tones, silently praying the mere uttering of it does not draw its ire, is a simple one: Boy Racer.

Boy racers in general are just one of many zits on the asscrack of British society, but the one that lives in our village is a particularly nasty case. The fucker spends every single goddamn day driving his shitty car up and down the roads at speeds even the Germans would be horrified by. He goes out several times and can be heard roaring around with his boy racer butt buddies at 3 AM almost every single night, and we're all sure if he keeps getting faster he's going to get someone killed. Fuck him.
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I feel your pain but from a different angle. I'm a car enthusiast, sort of. I like buying old cars (pre 2008 are the best) and playing with them. I'll add window tints to keep the sun out, wind deflectors to keep the rain out, lower the suspension to improve the handling, add low profile tyres to do the same. Engine mods, larger breaks, bigger discs etc and if, on the rare occasion, I do modify the exhaust, it is never to make it louder.

Yet, when I'm at traffic lights, or at a junction, and one of these 'boy racers' sees my car, they rev and want to race. Fuck off, dipshit, this isn't Forza or need for speed, it's a public road and very often in a town.

Boy racers make genuine car enthusiasts look bad. 10 years ago it was a little dick head in a corsa with a 'baauuum' exhast on and some alloys. Nowadays, young lads go and get 'expensive' modified sports cars (Golf, audi, bmw) and tear around in built-up areas like it's the indie 500.

Then the reaction by the council is to put those God-awful trapezoid speed bumps in which ruin lowered cars.

TL;DR - boy racers are the bane of all drivers.
 
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