Tuesday, 19 August 2008

Things that are hateful

Things that are hateful about this week:

Packed lunches.

Packed lunches remain the devil's work. Their inventor shall burn for all eternity, and I will be there to fan the flames, occasionally throwing him a Dairylea triangle or making him wrestle with clingfilm while I chastise him with shards of frozen pitta bread. Yes, I know, I have mentioned that before. Another week of packed lunches will surely kill me, so tomorrow I am thinking either they make their own, or they make do with a handful of mini Snickers like me. They contain protein after all.


I am totally over cooking. Seriously, fuck it. Must I really apply heat to these foodstuffs yet again? Can't we just all take a food pill this week? What is it these children and their incessant need to consume balanced meals? Fondant icing is a fine foodstuff. Fondant icing and pretzels and tea. I only have to step into the kitchen at the moment to be overwhelmed by existential despair. No! Can't I just step off this food preparation hamster wheel for a minute? Won't someone just take the hunger away? It's so tiresome. Although I am, of course hungry, there is nothing in the whole world it would be pleasurable to eat right now. Except just possibly a round of granary toast and a pot of Good Luck Green Tea in Bettys. Maybe followed by a gingerbread goose. And a fondant fancy. Hmm. Ok, I do still want food, but I want someone else to make it.


Some are lost, some are too small, all are dirty, many require a visit to the special circle of hell occupied by drycleaners, countless numbers have been eaten by the giant mothbastards. All the socks have fucked off and are mocking me from afar.

Johnnie Boden is preparing more clothes for the eurospawn in his pashmina-lined Putney sweatshop in return for the GDP of Venezuela. I resent this man profoundly. Damn him and his soft and sensible clothing. Damn him. I feel like a class traitor every time I click on his pink, plump toff's face to purchase more clothes for off-duty public schoolboys. But I am in thrall to his high quality cotton and pleasingly plain styling. I hate it but I love it. Argh! Brain about to implode from this paradox!

I am even more problematic. Is this the size I am now? Should I follow MBF's advice ('No Emma, don't give up sugar. You can't. Just buy new clothes. Throw the old ones away')? He is right, of course. I cannot give up sugar, since in combination with its friend fat, it makes up 93.5% of my calorific intake. I crumbled after about half an hour the last time. I really do not want to get into that punitive loop of buying large, cheap, self-flagellating clothes and disappearing into a spiral of self-loathing. Oh fuck it. I will keep wearing the too small, moth-eaten old ones. Meh. Noone is looking anyway. I look like a troll. A pink eyed, frowning troll with bald patches.

What do you hate this week? Go on go on spill your loathing. I need to hear it. Let's share some hate and make the internet a more baleful place. Yeah!


Samsara said...

In great British tradition, I hate the weather! It's crap at the moment, gray skies full of stormy clouds just waiting for me to take my dog out. I hate that I have a perfectly legitimate reason to lol in the garden (without the BF asking me whether there are any jobs in the pipeline) and burn my skin to a crisp, and no sun to do it with. I hate that I have no money and cannot therefore even resort to retail therapy to stop me going stir crazy. I hate that we have no money till Friday and I'm having to resort to store cupboard grub which is dried pulses and tinned chopped tomatoes, and no munchies whatsoever! There's plenty of other things on my hate list for today, but I won't bore you! Thanks for leting me vent *lol*

Waffle said...

Yay Samsara, let it out. I am feeling your tinned tomato and pulse pain.
Could you perhaps go inside and make us something really really frightening for the village fête out of chickpeas?

zoe said...

Fucking celery. It hates me and so I hate it. How can you crack a tooth by biting into a piece of raw celery? You can't - unless it hates you. Having said that I have just eaten a plate of the stuff with a smug smile revealing a repaired tooth and by shoving the bits of celery into my mouth from the sides.

Celery: 1 Me: 2

Waffle said...

Zoe - do you think you could do me some kind of celery punishment tableaux work of craft?

Anxious said...

I hate frisée salad.

When I was on holiday in France a couple of weeks ago, I was served up a salad which contained my three least favourite salad leaves:

Lamb's Lettuce


Once, a small sprig of frisée attacked me, by lodging itself in my tonsil and refusing to budge until I gargled with TCP. It is, evil (and also related to chicory, I believe)

vegan mum said...

I hate the Olympics. I am sick to death of hearing about it. I hate that I don’t fit properly into my clothes anymore and that after nursing a baby for a year +, my left tit appears to be permanently bigger than the right one. I hate that I am now functionally retarded on a daily basis due to lack of sleep. I hate summer, and the muggy disgusting air that accompanies it. I hate typing…

Waffle said...

Ironed curtain,
I love how well you got into that. I am so with you on that whole stream of hatefulness. You don't sound at all retarded. Honestly. But oh, the sleep deprivation I had to go back to that dark place this weekend and it was as bleak as I remembered and felt like someone had scoured my eyeballs with wire wool.

Justme - bad bad salad crimes. I particularly like frisée in the context of a meeting. The way it curls its vicious tentacles up your face coating it in dressing when you are trying to make an intelligent contribution. Good hate.

Waffle said...

I mean Anx. My brain has melted. Sorry Anx. Also, Violet and I once had to stay in the house of death in Florence where we were presented repeatedly with fun dishes made from cooked radiccio. It looked like a dead mouse and tasted worse.

justme said...

I too am hating the weather.
And the fact that the shops are full of sludgy grey woollen things that I dont want to wear.
And that I have red veins!!!!!
And that my arms hurt.
And that I am not quite creative enough to make something cool for the village fete (plus, if I did I would have no idea how to post it! ) So can I be a judge please?

Persephone said...

Presently, I want to murder drivers who: a) pull into a crosswalk (with walk sign lit), and peer out for oncoming traffic, until they become aware of foaming pedestrian, and wonder absent-mindedly why the nice lady is spouting profanities and flipping birds, before he sails into traffic, leaving her confronted with a "Don't Walk" signal; b) drivers who sail through crosswalks seconds after the signal for "Walk" has come on, barely missing little old ladies and mothers-with-children who have dared to step into the street. These so-called drivers should be strung up from the advanced green light as a warning to others.

Anonymous said...

ooooooh hate!

first i should say that i luurve you jaywalker!

mmmm, this week i am hating -
* my work and the idiotic specimens of thickness that i seem to have to work with... that and 15 hour days :(
* bad drivers meaning my man has pretty much written off our van. no it wasnt his fault - i was there.... still pissed off though :)
* my body - as said above - the crazy amount of work im doing means no gym, which means soft and squishy marshmallow body for me.... i hate it i hate it i hate it!!
* lack of sunshine....i need heat dammit!
*completely broke... admittedly our own fault for buying beautiful painting but... :(

aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh i feel better! *kiss* thank you jaywalker!

Waffle said...

Justme - I think your standards are too high. I am sure we could find you a rôle in the fête. I will ponder.

Persephone - what is a 'crosswalk' - is it like a place where pedestrians cross the road? I am trying to visualise this. Good rage though.

Emily - Well done. Let it all out. There's a good girl. Kisses back. Belgian one-cheeked ones.

peevish said...

Can we do this topic every week? I think it would be really therapeutic.

I fucking hate being so god-damned old. I watch what I eat and I exercise and I never lose one mother-fucking pound. What? The? Hell?

I hate the pached lunches, too, because one kid never eats Any of it, so it all goes in the trash bin at the end of the day because (by then) it is hot and disgusting, and the other complains about all the things I failed to put into it.

I hate Linux! My husband hates Bill Gates (who doesn't?) and we can't afford an apple so he insists on punishing ME by running Linux, which freezes up at the merest mention of youtube or anything else with lots of flash in it that's fun.

Also, mysterious middle-of-the-night sounds. Scary sounds. Why can't all creatures, and the house itself, just fucking go to sleep and not move at all until morning?

Waffle said...

Hi Peevish
Hell, yes. So very much yes on the whole age-related metabolic meltdown. [grinds teeth] However your left eye and cheek look very sylph-like on your lovely picture, so hey, the rot hasn't reached that far.

One of mine doesn't eat the packed lunch either, which just compounds the futility. "I sliced that cucumber at 7am and you didn't touch it!" etc etc until consumed with despair.

Hmmm. Maybe we could make it a regular feature. It's definitely touching a nerve.

Persephone said...

You got it; crosswalk = pedestrian/zebra/toucan/pegasus/pelican/pecan/tortoise/etc. crossing/.

Red Shoes said...

I hate that I am so lethargic, that I sabotage my own happiness by being lazy. I hate that my sink is piled high with nasty, filthy dishes I have no desire to wash. I hate that washing dishes takes so @#$! long. I hate that my office floor is covered in a layer of miscellaneous paper that I only add to, never sort. I hate that I still haven't filed my taxes and that it's going to mean ugly things when it comes time to pay up. I hate that I think I have a hemorrhoid. WTF??? I thought only fat old men got those. Not me. But there it is, making my ass angry. How did this happen?! I hate it.

On a brighter note, I do love this blog, jaywalker. And also my Roomba. Which would work even better if I didn't have so much shit on the floor.

P.S. Very sorry that my first comment on your blog is a complaint. But you asked for it.

Waffle said...

Yes Red Shoes, I did ask for it and I love it. Thank you. We used to have a Roomba and it was my favourite thing in the whole world, vastly preferable to all the members of my family. I especially liked placing a biscuit on its smooth compliant top and making the small children chase it around the room. Pure bliss. Thank you for saying nice things and sharing your hate.

Persephone - Ok, I can visualise it now. It sounds like Paris.

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