Though some of these may read as petty annoyances. It’s the larger implications that some of the items on this list may have on the world at large that scare me. My fear is real. So without further ado…
Being buried alive.
Being burned alive.
Being attacked by a shark.
Drowning after being tied up, attached to an anchor and thrown overboard.
Being attacked by a shark while drowning.
Following a pattern.
Becoming part of a cycle.
Dying in some lame household accident like slipping in the tub or falling off a chair and breaking my neck while trying to change a lightbulb.
The fact that we don’t have the right to die with dignity in this country.
Justin Bobby’s hold on Audrina. It’s otherworldly.
That my once-atheist father got baptized at an alternative church a couple of weeks ago.
Elderly east side Armenian men. They don’t’ say much. They just sit and play backgammon and chain smoke cigars and give me strange looks when I walk by. When I say ‘hi,’ they turn away. I have to wonder what they’re planning.
Anybody in a cult other than Santeria.
Girls that can’t walk in high heels, but still wear them.
People who are sick and shake your hand without telling you first.
Dementia in general unless self-induced.
Stupid and/or violent people breeding.
People that get married because that’s ‘just what you do.’
Bush’s last stand, specifically the special-ops actions in Syria and bombings in Pakistan. And even though I’ll be totally stooping to his level when I do this, I’m going to punch that motherfucker in the face if I ever get the chance. I don’t care if he’s 80 years old. I’ll wait until some library dedication ceremony, put out my hand like I wanna shake his, do a switcheroo and give him a big fat knuckle sandwich. And when he’s on the ground holding his face, going ‘what’d you do that for?!” I’m going to loom over, point in his face and say, “that one’s for America motherfucker. That one’s for the world!”
The ease with which people can consitently lie to each other’s faces.
That Fallout Boy is still wildly popular amongst alternateens. Their new single is like an emo ZZ Top light as if produced by Jermaine Dupri. WTF? Seriously?
The man dressed in black that I lucid dream about who sits across the room from me in my old school desk chair and watches me sleep. He’s been sitting there for years and refuses to leave sometimes, even when I turn on the light.
Crackheads when they’re looking to score.
Methheads when they run out of shit to do.
People who paint their bodies and faces in their favorite sport’s team’s colors and attend sporting events.
And people who use the world ‘chic.’