Things I hate: #4

I hate a lot of things. The idea of chewing on wet paper towels. People who don't accelerate immediately at green lights. Samoa Girl Scout cookies. Weddings with no alcohol. White tights. My Chemical Romance. Uni nigiri. But last night, a previously overlooked (or blocked out) transgression forced itself upon me. I attended Zanzibarfest (you can find it on MyFriendSpaceBook) to benefit a local recording studio that works with many of Norman's bands, including the roommate's. I saw some old school Norman kids, had a free beer, watched toddlers fall over in a community garden, listened to some local music and was subjected to hippie dancing. Holy hairy chai scented balls does this annoy me! I just don't understand. The amount of unrhythmic flailing was dangerous. You could've put an eye out with that. Just because you have on several long layers of non-matching billowing fabrics doesn't mean that twirling and contorting in them is actually conveying some sort of transcendent experience. Also, you're all doing the same dumbass dance, you non-conformists. And finally, you pretend it's all spontaneous expressions of your surroundings, but you totally practice in front of your mirror every night.

I want to trip them. I want to dress them in GAP from head to toe. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against hippies really, it's just their dancing. It's worst than the skankiest of sorostitute grinding. I'd rather do the electric slide on hot coals than watch this shit. I thought my own personal hell was a place with no Diet Coke, but apparently it's a Phish concert.