Some Quick Fits

If you’re anything like us, dear reader, you go through your day gritting your teeth at all the disgraceful indignities and moronic irritations that you must endure. Nary an hour goes by, it seems, in which you aren’t bothered by some galactically irksome phenomenon or other. This, we feel, is what Tony Orlando once referred to as “The Good Life.” Or was that Plato?

Anyway, as a result of all the nugatory vexations that we face, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” decided to spend today’s humble “post” proffering potted complaints about a whole host of annoyances. That way, as the saying goes, we can kill a number of birds with one rock. In addition, like a candidate for breast reduction surgery, we can get a little off of our chest.

Without too much in the way of further ado, then, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” proudly take you through our humble tour of irksomeness. We call it:

Quick Fits from the Crack Young Staff

1. People Who Fling Rubber Bands: Is there anything more distressing than someone who cocks a rubber band in your face? We, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” believe that this is a prime example of Busch League sadism. Frankly, most folks consider rubber bands the most dangerous weapons in the world. If you try to rob a bank with a gun, the teller may not believe that the thing is loaded. But if you put a rubber band in his face, he’ll give you the money faster than you can say “Wayne Newton went bankrupt.”

2. Schadenfreude and the French: Boy, the French really don’t make it easy on us, do they? Surely schadenfreude, which, for those of you unschooled in the ways of the Kraut, means “the enjoyment of an other’s troubles,” is one of the most disgraceful of emotions. What’s more, the recent upheavals and hooliganism in the suburbs of Paris are deeply serious troubles. And yet, and yet, and yet. Who can’t enjoy a situation in which the snooty, We-Know-Everything-about-World-Affairs-You-Stupid-Yanks French are up to their (hirsute) armpits in a Muslim riot? Clearly, in putting such a calamity in the hands of Chirac and Villepin, the Good Lord is testing our resolve.

3. Paper Cuts: We know that we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” spend far too much time on rather demotic subject matter: Phil Collins; Richard Rorty; Gillette razors; &c. As such, once in a while, we like to change things up a bit. It’s our way of keeping you guessing. And what better highbrow subject is there than paper cuts? We couldn’t think of anything either. These things are surely the most unbearable of life’s cruelties. Short of getting your elbows shot off by a submachine gun, nothing hurts worse than the garden-variety paper cut. Still, nothing quite makes you look like an ultra-pansy like kvetching about a paper cut. At least when someone saws off your kneecaps you can get a good cry in without seeming like a wussy to your pals.

4. Terrell Owens: Admittedly, we, the crack young staff of “The Hatemonger’s Quarterly,” don’t discuss sporting events with great regularity. Frankly, we enjoy taking in a good game as much as the next truculent homicidal subversive, and we seldom find much to gripe about in professional sports—save the Los Angeles Clippers, of course. Yet Terrell Owens, the whilom receiver for the Philadelphia Eagles and full-time ostentatious jerk, is an exception to the rule. Has anyone else noticed that this guy has thus far done the most impressive Juwanna Mann impression you’re likely to see in this lifetime? And now this self-important twit has the (ir)Rev. Jesse Jackson on his side? Gee, and just when we were starting to like him, too.