Don’t you hate it when you’ve come to rely on a blog for your daily dose of humor and enlightenment, only to find no new entry when you log in? If you don’t , you should. That’s why I’ve decided to take a leave of absence. If I come up with enough new grievances by January 2, 2003, I’ll be back to share them with you. If not, well, then you can all just piss off. Yeah, I know, I suck.

You see ‘em on the streets between midnight and 3AM. These guys who know they’re fucked up, but still insist on taking the wheel. Hey, pull over, you jackass, before you fucking kill someone. This is the same asswipe who bitches and moans when the “fucking judge” takes away his license after his second D.U.I. Those bastard cops, all trying to protect and serve and shit. Why don’t they go bust a real criminal? Idiot. Tis the season to get plastered. But do us all a favor and spring for a cab. Drunk-Driving Dimwits, you suck.

Hey, buddy. Guess what? The fruitcake joke thing is over. Let it go. It was barely funny twenty years ago. It’s even less funny now. Everybody thinks they’ve got a new take on the gag. Something about the life of the pastry. Or the weight of it. We’ve heard ‘em all before. Yes, it’s a pretty disgusting gift. But so are those goddam cheese logs my Aunt sends me every year. How ’bout some jokes about that? You still think fruitcakes are funny? Well, you suck.

Why is it when you want to make a positive change in your life, you always insist on waiting until the very last minute to do it? You wanna lose weight? Start now. Fuck that one-last-bon-bon bullshit. We’re talking about your health. So, get on that treadmill. Change your diet. Stop smoking. Get your finances in order. Write that screenplay. Do whatever it is you need to do. But start doing it now. Not on January 1st. Otherwise, you suck.

It’s the holidays. Time to show people how much you care. And what better way to express your love than with a Holiday Gift Card? They’re available in a variety of denominations, with lots of styles and colors to choose from. Yes, with one little piece of plastic you can say it all: “Merry Chanukamas. I don’t give a fuck.” People who give Gift Cards should be dragged by their ears over hot asphault by a one-horse open sleigh. I’m one of these people, and I suck.

If you’ve ever been out to the movies, you’ve most likely experienced this guy. The first time anything slightly amusing happens in the film, he lets go with a spine shattering cackle. The guffaw of all guffaws. The laugh heard ’round the world.

Everybody turns to look at him. But he’s oblivious to their stares. He’s too busy looking for his next opportunity to impress us with his keen sense of humor. How else would anyone know that he got the joke unless he announces it to the entire theater?

I’m always the fortunate one who gets to sit next to this guy. He’s also the one who chews his popcorn with his mouth open so everybody can count how many kernels he consumes. Hey, buddy, you wanna be a nuisance? Do us all a favor and wait for the DVD. Otherwise, save the gut busters for something that’s actually funny. Obnoxious Theater Goers, you suck.

For those of you who are not aware, I am nothing more than a lowly apartment dweller. And as such, whenever my clothing and linens become “less-than-fresh,” I am forced to fight for the community washing machine. This in itself sucks. But it is not the subject of my latest tirade.

What I want to know is which one of you self-centered dickheads is leaving the lint in the dryer for me to clean out? “Well, the last person did it to me.” So what. You think I care? Let’s do some thinking, people. Nobody likes to clean the lint trap. But it’s a hell of a lot easier to do when you know it’s your lint. I swear to God, if I ever find out whose been doing this, I’m gonna shove their face in the dryer and make them lick that funky fuzz out with their tongue. Lint-Leaving Louses, you suck.

Hey, they can’t all be winners, people. I’ve been writing these damn rants every day. Cut me some slack.

There’s a certain fast food chain (initials CJ) whose long running ad campaign informs us that unless a burger creates a big mess, it isn’t worth eating. Clever. I suppose this appeals to the target audience (i.e. not me). But who the hell came up with the idea to add those disgusting eating sounds?

The crunching. The chewing. The lips smacking. Is this supposed to make me hungry? Well, it makes me wanna puke. Every time one of these obnoxious commercials comes on, I lunge for the remote.

Since when does the soggy lettuce in a hamburger sound like that? It’s like somebody’s eating right in your ear. Of course, if somebody was actually eating in my ear, I’d punch their face in. Listen up, all of you CJ Sound Designers, YOU SUCK.

You’ll find them roaming by the storefronts of Hollywood Boulevard. You’ll see them wandering aimlessly down the Las Vegas Strip. I’m, of course, referring to these guys that still insist on dressing like Elvis. Not the cool Elvis of the 60s, the fat, tacky Elvis of the 70s. The overweight, drugged-up Elvis.

These fifty-year-old creeps with their hair all slicked back, sporting the shades with the little holes on the sides. They don’t always go as far as to don the rhinestone jumpsuit, but you know they have a few in the closet for special occasions. I can only hope that this is a dying breed and we’ll soon be rid of this abomination. Welcome to the 21st century. Elvis has been dead for over 25 years. Deal with it. Low-Class Kings, you suck. Uh, thankyouverymuch.

Okay, you thought you had a great idea for a vanity license plate. But when you went to the DMV, you found out somebody already beat you to it. So, what’d you do? Trash the idea and come up with a new one? No, you just added a number to the end and made the spelling more cryptic. “Hey, look at me, I was the 7th person to think of this idea.” Way to go, moron. You like puzzles? Here’s a fun plate for you to figure out: YEWSUK2