* People who leave shopping carts in the parking lot: I sincerely hope in Hell as I am sure The Devil will send the lot of you on endless runs to the parking lot to push great volumes of carts back into the store like a post-modern, Kevin Smith-level ironic Sisyphus.
* People who leave voicemail messages not saying what its about, just to call them back: Any time this happens, my internal monologue turns into the final showdown in Dark City where he’s screaming and theres flowing waves of anger emitting from his forehead. And that is also what I will think of the next time I see you in person. Keep that in mind, buddy.
* Anyone who makes v-e-r-y s-l-o-w turns in their car (especially right-hand turns): Anyone who drives slow can be avoided but when you’re turning and you have to do it at a snail’s pace, there is something incredibly wrong with you as a human being and I am ashamed to share the same genus as you. ASHAMED.
* People who stand outside of voting booths asking you to vote for their crappy person for jerks: I’m walking in because I made a decision weeks or months ago, Mrs Suburban White Lady Angry About Grocery Store Coupons. You’re not changing my mind this late in the game. Also: your high heels are cheap and your children are notoriously ugly.
* People who don’t have an “indoor voice”: If I wanted to have a conversation with you, I’d beat it out of you first, random asshole on his cellphone / talking to his kid / looking for their ugly significant other.
* People looking at their cell phones after the lights dim in a movie theater: You people really make me wish universal health care covered retroactive abortion.
* People who lean in to give a hug or only give you their chest during it: I inherently distrust anyone who is uncomfortable giving or receiving hugs. If you don’t want to, thats fine but half-assing it makes me feel like I’m about to gator-wrestle someone at a Christian Revival event and they’re covered in lard.
* Anyone who makes a joke at the expense of someone working a counter / working retail / working with the public: If the employee scans something at the register and it doesn’t come up in the system and you say “That means it must be free”, you deserve to be stabbed through the face with a fucking cinder block. No exceptions.
* Every character played by Tom Skerritt: He just seems like the biggest douchebag alive. I don’t know why.
* People who can’t control their kids in public: Seeing your little ambulatory womb tumor run around like the worthless shit-ticket s/he is as he screams about Transformers makes me want to go Rambo 4 on your nuclear family. Not the whole Rambo 4 movie either, just the part where he uses the 50 cal machine gun and turns the jeep driver into a can of tomato paste.
* People who like things “ironically”: I have to censor myself here because I got a letter from Satan and he said that shit was too fucked up even for him, so I’ll leave it to your imagination.
* People who “sell”: If you’re a salesman by trade, I take no issue with you. If you’re a salesman by nature, I basically want to pour gasoline into your eyeballs. Maybe its me but there is little as frustrating as someone trying to sell their personality to you. They come off like walking in on an overly-smarmy David Leisure about to bang your wife. You just want to kick them in the face so hard, they shit their teeth out. You’re not important, bucko, so quit it.
some nsfw-ish text/references but no straight up smut.
Dipper Pines was not having a good birthday.
He knew that turning 21 meant his friends dragging him out to get (legally) drunk for the first time, no matter how much he told them he didn’t feel like going to a douchey bar and then to an overcrowded club.
It wasn’t a complete disaster; he did have fun trying some interesting cocktails and watching his friend Nate make an ass of himself at the club, but he really would have rather just gone home after that. He could have sat back with his friends at his apartment for the rest of the night, smoked a few bowls, watched some shitty movies, eaten a lot of cake, and then gone to sleep content with the world.
But no. He had to have been blindfolded and dropped off at a seemingly empty hotel room by his friends and left completely on his own, with no idea what hotel he was even in or how to get back to the apartment, just a key and a note in his pocket that said “room 924.”