Old Navy Copywriters, would you quit with the babytalk, already? Every time I hear one of your radio commercials, I want to drive my car into oncoming traffic and end my misery. “For adults, kids and baby.” Baby? Why only one? Is that supposed to be cute? Well, it isn’t. It’s irritating.

Diaper commericals are guilty of this too: “And it won’t irritate baby’s skin.” Awww… I think I’m gonna puke. We’re adults. We understand the basics of grammar. But in case you don’t, it’s: “For adults, kids and babIES” and “It won’t irritate YOUR baby’s skin.” Either you’re all a bunch of morons or you have an ad agency made up of three-year-olds. Either way, Old Navy Copywriters, you suck.

Ladies, I’ve got to break the male code of silence and let you in on something: A lot of guys don’t bother washing their hands after they take a leak. They’ll just walk up to the urinal, have a piss, shake it off, zip up and be on their way. I’ve seen it happen in the bathrooms of the finest restaurants.

I once asked a friend why he didn’t bother washing his hands. His smart ass reply: “I don’t piss on my hands.” Oh, isn’t that clever. Well, how ’bout this, do you not sweat either? Because unless you’re keeping your genitalia in some kind of protective sheath, it’s not really a germ-free environment, is it?

Here’s an idea: Maybe use a little soap and water before you go out and start shaking hands. Germ-Spreading Urinators, you suck.

I’ve just finished attending the big Screenwriting Expo in Los Angeles, and I can’t say that I had a very positive experience. It cost like seventy bucks just to get in and then $2 for every “seminar” and $4 for every “workshop.”

Okay. Fine. That would be cool. But it turns out these so-called “seminars” are nothing more than two-hour Buy-My-Book-athons. Nobody wants to give you all their trade secrets. It’s all part of a big plot (“to learn about plot, you’ll have to sign up for my Writing A Winning Plot seminar. It’s only $350 for two days of information. But it’s guaranteed to teach you everything you’ll ever need to know about plot. Did I mention I wrote for the show Small Wonder in the early 80s?”)

Then there are the so-called “workshops.” For those who don’t know, a workshop is a Buy-My-Book seminar where you’re given a short writing exercise to do. Then you get to sit there and listen to the biggest idiots in the class proudly read their work. Seems like you would learn more this way, but it’s a big waste of time. Because if you really want to learn anything, (say it with me) you’ve got to buy the book. Seminar Swindlers, you suck.

Hey, you. What’s the hurry? Don’t you know what a center of gravity is? Of course not. You’re the Four-Wheeler Pickup Guy. It doesn’t matter that your truck is five feet off the ground. You think you’re invincible with those big, knobby tires of yours. I see you weaving in and out of the traffic, pressing your luck with every turn. You’re making me nervous. Turn down the Lenard Skynard and try using the brake every once in a while. Four-Wheeler Pickup Guy, you suck.

Five in the morning,
I’m startled awake
by sounds of machinery
causing a quake.
The Teamsters are here,
just a few flights below,
setting up shop
for the stars of the show.
Their trucks make a racket.
They sure like to shout.
I wish they would shut up,
and get the hell out.
You say, “That’s just Hollywood.”
I don’t give a fuck.
If you work for the Teamsters,
I’m afraid that you suck.

Ever since the horrible tragedy of 9/11, the American flag has come back in vogue. And while I’m all for supporting the troupes and being proud of my country, it’s also important to do it with respect.

People still gasp at the sight of someone burning our flag, yet they seem to have no trouble attaching one to their car antenna until it’s frayed and hanging by a thread. Do us all a favor and tear that thing off, already. Or at least cough up the five bucks and get a new one.

And while we’re at it, let’s remember the rules about displaying a flag outside your home: When it’s dark, you’re supposed to take it down. And why don’t you try cleaning that thing every once in a while? If there weren’t so many stars on it, I’d swear it was from the Civil War.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind that the American flag has replaced the Jesus fish as the most popular ornament for your car. Those tasteful flag stickers in everyone’s rear window are fine with me. But people who forget what the flag symbolizes and abuse it? Misguided patriots, you suck.

This may come as a shock to you, but the majority of the human population has no psychic capabilities. We don’t know when you’re going to change lanes or when you might need to stop to turn into a driveway. That’s why, many years ago, a brilliant man (I’m just assuming the gender, here) came up with the concept of turn signals.

See, here’s how they work: You take hold of that little lever…no, not that one. That’s the windshield wiper…Right, that one. All, you have to do is move it down to let people know you’re turning left, and move it up to indicate you’re turning right. Got it? The idea here is to avoid accidents by warning people of your intentions. Otherwise, one day, you’re going to make a sudden move and find 80% of a Cadillac Escalade (or some other behemoth of an SUV) rammed up your rear end. Look up ahead. What does that sign say? “You suck.”

Oh, dear sir. Why must you play those subsonic tones to such excess? Are you not aware that your melodies vibrate the walls of my humble dwelling? Perhaps you are deaf and can only enjoy music by feeling it. Or perhaps you are conducting experiments to discover the frequency that shatters bone. Whatever the reason, my bass loving neighbor, there is one indisputable fact: You suck.

You’ll usually notice him on the elevator standing right behind you. You know, that balloon shaped fellow who’s so morbidly obese that he has to struggle for every breath. How can he not be aware of this? That sound of air constantly gusting in and out of his nose, blowing his thick tufts of nostril hair back and forth, back and forth. It makes you want to grab a pen knife and perform an impromptu tracheotomy. Mr. Audible Breather, you suck.

Don’t you hate these people who insist on correcting your spelling errors in the middle of an IM chat? Come on, it’s supposed to be a casual conversation. Do you correct people’s grammar while they’re speaking to you, too? Wouldn’t surprise me. People who do this should be tied to the front of a semi truck and driven into a brick wall. I’m one of these people, and I suck.