- I do not like David Sedaris.
- I do not like alcohol...at least, in huge amounts.
- I am a natural doctor who has little interest in nutrition.
- In particular, I hate pushing nutritional supplements.
- It is "brrr" when describing how cold you feel. Not "burrr." That's a misspelling of a thorn. So there.
- I hate Michelangelo Signorile. Simply because he has such an infuriatingly long, pretentious name that's hard to pronounce. And he insists on the full version, too. I don't care that he's a gay activist/writer. Of course he's gay. No one who's straight would go by "Michelangelo" nowadays, unless they're Italian.
- David Beckham can suck my left nut.
- And Victoria Beckham can rot for all I care. She's not worthy to suck either of my nuts.
- Not going to my 20 year high school reunion. The people all in charge of it were the people I abhorred back in the day. The pictures they're posting (particularly of 20 years ago) nauseate me. And if people really want to see how I'm doing, it's not like I'm hard to find online. (Only thing that may change my mind: if the Silver Skating Dame herself actually ends up showing up, but that's kinda doubtful. She keeps a pretty low profile online as well.)
- I'm not gluten free. And I won't go gluten free until I personally decide it's worth it, despite what the vast majority of my colleagues say.
Speaking of where my colleagues and I are concerned:
- I am NOT a fan of Breitenbush Hot Springs.
- I am not a fan of much that is new-agey.
- I HAAATE, with a withering hatred, The Four Agreements.
- I likewise hate the egomaniac Wayne Dyer. (Publishing an audiobook where you recite the Tao te Ching, then give your personal interpretation of it immediately pushes you into the realm of douchebaggery.)
- Many of my colleagues with whom I shared Portland for four years, believe that the sterile, often warehouse-like Powell's Books is the best bookstore in the universe. These ignorant, misguided dolts have never been to Tattered Cover here in Denver.
Obviously, you'll see more. Go ahead and judge me as bitter. So are you, deep inside. Give in to it. Cold pricklies are your friends.