10.09.03 | 9:04 p.m.

Things I hate, would include:

men wearing big, leathery sandals (aka mandals) -- especially if those mens got nasty ass feet (you know who you are, so please take yer damn mandals off this instant). [* flip flops, I do like]

the smell of public transportation when it's precipitating -- like being trapped in a stranger's used gym sock, a stranger with athlete’s foot.

commercials at the movies -- after surrendering a Hamilton for two hours of escape time, there's no need for 20-foot ads with dolby digital surround sound being thrust in my face.

bands who only play covers -- it's called karaoke, and you can find it along with discounted drinks at your local pub every Wednesday night.

coleslaw -- I like cabbage. I like salad dressing. Put them together and, go figure, I don't like it.

people who can't put their cell phones down -- especially while engaging in (what used to be mutual) transactions, such as checking out at the grocery store or lovemaking.

my downstairs neighbor -- please Yolanda stop screaming at the daughter you never should have had for just like one second. Perhaps then you wouldn't need to ask me to let you back into the apartment building in a daily basis because I think you would be able to find your keys better with your head dislodged from your ass.

This is just the beginning. My laundry beckons to be folded now. Did I mention I hate doing laundry...