People I Hate

Sorry, gang. I know Thursday is People I Hate day, but I have been swamped both here and at Pam's place, where I'm blogsitting until tomorrow. There's a lot of pressure there, because her blog is more widely read than my drivel, but with the hit-alanche I received from the Ambulance Driver, I'm under even more pressure to crack out some bloggy goodness here.

I know, I'm not succeeding, right?

Any hoo, for those of you new to this infernal mess, Thursday is People I Hate day . . . that is being posted on Friday this week. Dang. It's the one day a week that I can really vent, scream, and spew a healthy dose of bile. Prepare yourself.

New Jersey

That's right, I hate an entire state. Yesterday, the missus and I took the kids to Story Book Land, and kid-oriented amusement park near Atlantic City. The park itself kicked major ass. It was clean, friendly, and offered a variety of family entertainment. Strangely enough, I liked it. Heh. What definitely did not kick ass was the traffic on the Atlantic City Expressway, the toll booths out the wazoo, and the lack of signs when a certain detective was trying to get home! (Note to self: going southbound on the ACE will dramatically increase your driving time back to Philly!)

Screw you, Garden State! You deserve Bon Jovi!

Rubberneckers

These people deserve to die by intercourse with Rosie O'Donnell and Michael Moore . . . at the same time! Nothing makes a 90-minute more miserable than a bunch of scumbags who have to slow down at even the slightest amount of highway activity. We had to come out of warp speed no less than three times during the trip - we left after rush hour, by the way - for morons who slowed down for a highway patrolman conducting a car stop, a roving maintenance crew going the opposite way, and a damned landscaping team! What the frak!

Look geniuses, there is no way - repeat: no way - a cop is going to leave his car stop to pursue your dumb ass! Keep driving, and stop watching the show, you jerkasses! Cripes!

MLB Commissioner Bud Selig

So, let's see: Jason Giambi receives no punishment after he admits he has a "personal history regarding steroids," and Barry Bonds is threatening to sue Curt Schilling for "defamation of character" . . . as if Bonds has any. And all the while, Selig is turning a blind eye to the atrocities occurring around him and his once-great sport. Letting this guy remain as head honcho is like letting Kirstie Alley guard a Twinkie factory.

And yet, somehow, Selig remains. Nobody likes him. Nobody respects him. Nobody wants him there. He's like the Wyatt Earp of baseball.

Every second he is in command, another little part of baseball dies.