Things that bug me...
(Editor's Note: This will probably be a continuing series; things that bug me just keep popping up like zits on my college roommate's back)
1. People who still write personal checks at checkouts. This practice seems to be limited to the elderly and Mormons. No joke, when I lived in Utah (blog about that experience to follow), I can't count how many times I would get stuck in line behind someone writing a check. Multiple wives are a central and accepted covenant of their religion, but the convenience of the debit card is looked upon with disdainful scorn. At IKEA a few month's ago in Woodbridge I actually guessed the young lady checking out in front of us was a Mormon. Not only was this obvious by the check she was writing for the Norden dining room table (color: Birch), but also the bank name on the check, Wells Fargo. Banking at Wells Fargo is a Mormonry rule the same way abstinence before marriage is.
The elderly's penchant for check writing is almost (almost) acceptable if only b/c of the amusement it brings to others stuck behind them in line. Not only does it take them 10 hours to endorse the check, but then you have to wait for them to defy arthritis and rip the check from the bonds of the checkbook. It's as challenging for them as coming up with enough saliva to seal an envelope, which takes the entire hour of "The Price is Right." It only get's better when they balance their checkbook after cutting the check, sometimes having to rifle through their massive elderly purse to find a calculator which is hopelessly impossible to use because of the small buttons.

2. Vigilant Enforcers of Authority with no Authority to enforce Authority, case in point: Following the Redskin's playoff victory, I walked up to 7-11 to procure more beer. After three attempts at swiping my debit card, which had a defective magnetic strip (I guess in this case a check would've worked better-maybe the Mormons have a good point), the clerk behind the counter took the beer off the counter and said "No more for you. You've had too much." Since when did 7-11 clerks earn the right to make judgements on one's cut off point?

3. Bono. Don't get me wrong, U2 has passed the deserted island test, (if trapped on a deserted island with my choice of only 5 CD's to bring with me, "The Joshua Tree" would be one of them) I just don't need Bono making me feel like an asshole at a concert because of the state of the world. I don't pay $100 for crappy seats to a U2 show so Bono can tell me to text my name to some petition about Third World debt relief. If Bono is so concerned about third world debt, don't charge me $100 for a ticket; charge me $50, and I'll give the other $50 to the Red Cross. U2 grossed $160 million touring in 2005, second only to the Rolling Stones. If Bono is so concerned, why not donate his stake of that ($40 million) to debt relief. I'm just a squirrel trying to get a nut. $100 is a lot of money to spend on a concert ticket; don't make me feel like pond scum when all I'm trying to do is hear a good live version of "Where the Streets Have No Name." Sir Mick Jagger doesn't make me feel like an asshole about the world; he just rocks while looking like a 65 year-old head on a 10 year old girl's body.

4. Peter Angelos. He's the elderly owner of the Baltimore Orioles. All I've ever known about baseball is the Baltimore Orioles. This asshole has run my team into the ground. His solution to everything is to bring in a big bat with degenerative knees 5 years past his prime and sign him to a crippling 9 year contract. Just die, asshole.

5. Jamie Foxx. Ok, we get it. You are multi-talented. You can act. You can sing. You can be a single parent. You owe it all to your grandmother. Guess what? We all have multiple talents. I can write with my right hand and throw with my left. My older brother can shift a manual transmission car, turn right, ash a cigarette out the window, and lecture me about the ten best Southern rock songs ever...all at once.

6. Rice rockets. You've seen them. These are 15 year old Honda Civic CRXs that someone purchases for $300 and then proceeds to drop $5500 on. The only problem is, all that money goes into hideous cosmetic work, like massive Jetson's spoilers and five star rims, and not the operating machinery of the car. You always see them pull slowly away from a stoplight in a plume of smoke because the clutch is fried and both axle's are bent. It's not Fast or Furious to drive a car that won't pass emissions.

7. Dry Cleaners-1st and foremost, why don't they take credit cards? But more importantly, why don't they admit when they've ripped your shirt or lost your pants? I've had two of my favorite shirts handed backed to me while being told "the elbows were ripped. It was like that when you brought it in." Seriously, it wasn't. When they lose something, they just say "okay, 7 shirts and 4 pants, now we did lose your slate gray trousers," and then they start to ring you up like they didn't just tell you they lost your pants. Standing there, you feel like the guy from the Monster.com commerical who works with a bunch of monkeys and just can't believe that this is really happening, that this is his life.

8. Stuart Scott-those of you who have even a passing interest in sports knows this is one of ESPN's anchors, the one inflicted with the lazy eye and the woeful catch phrase "Booyeah!" First, how the hell did a guy with a lazy eye get on TV? It's not one of those on again/off again afflictions (much like Randy Moss' motivation) that comes and goes or is only evident when he looks left; his left eye is always sagging like Aretha Franklin's hammock. Second, his euphamisms are always so out of date and looooooooooooooong. I swear I heard him describe a hockey save during a highlight the other night with "Homey don't play that." His descriptions of homeruns take longer than someone trying to pass a kidney stone; by the time he's finished, we're already into the next hour of Sportscenter. And did I mention the lazy eye? God, I hate him.

...I think that is it for now. Goodbye.