Excerpt from You Won't Like Me When I'm Angry

Mr McGee, your newspaper is only interested in reporting murder, rape, horoscopes, UFO's and Farrah Fawcett. I don't happen to fit into any of those categories - and I wish NOT to be interviewed.

Hola amigos and welcome to another issue of Bad Sandwich Chronicles Beyond Thunderdome. If you like what you read, please consider subscribing if you haven’t already, and if you already subscribe, thank you. I appreciate you more than I can say and you are all allowed to stay in my home anytime (disclaimer: not actually true).

Anyhoo, on with the show, as it were:

Shit happens that makes me angry, folks. I don’t get angry very often but when I do it’s at a few very specific things. I’m not talking about the casual frustration of, say, when your friend starts talking and then walks away just assuming that you’re gonna follow them to listen to whatever dumb shit they’re talking about like you’re some kind of 1950’s stenographer. That’s just casual frustration shit. I’m talking about being legit angry, and these first two are the quickest way to ruin my day, despite that they are both completely stupid and inconsequental in and of themselves, even compared to the rest of this list.

But anyway. When god hates me here’s some of the things that he rains down upon me.

Let’s take a look. I become enraged…: 

When my belt loop gets caught in something

Let’s set the scene: you’re walking around some kind of corner or around one of those bathroom doors with the kinda ‘L’ shaped handles instead of a knob and suddenly you’re jerked back by the hip because your belt loop just got caught around whatever it is that you walked by. You’re familiar with this phenomenon, I trust, particularly if you’re approximately 6’ tall. 

In a way, this is an amazing feat. you couldn’t do it on purpose (at least I couldn’t). I mean, if you were to offer me one million dollars to hastily walk around a corner and surreptitiously catch my belt loop on something, I would not have a million dollars. HOWEVER, the gods, they must be crazy because they do this to me all the fucking time. 

Why does it make me angry? Probably because it’s so fucking insane that it even happens and it stops my momentum and makes me ponder the greater futility of existence and also it makes me look like a dumb asshole. I appreciate the galactic humor of it, but it’s not for me. However, our next entry is something that is very similar and yet has absolutely zero galaxy based redeeming qualities: 

When my earbuds get pulled out of my ears

Fuuuuuuuck this. Now, with the profusion of AirPods, this is thankfully going away, but man, when you’d be riding your bike and the hand brake would somehow catch on the earbud cord, or you’d be walking around and it would snag on the button on the wrist of your jacket or whatever, fuuuuuuuck this. Nothing, and I mean nothing is more infuriating. I would rather be forced to watch my brother be executed by a group of madmen. I’ve spent about 75% of my life untangling earbud cords and i’ll be GODDAMNED if some random act of bullshit is gonna undermine my fucking efforts, lo mein?

Anyway, this sucks metric tons of shit. and it also kinda hurts. But hey, since we’re talking airbuds:

Some asshole talking to me when I clearly have airbuds in my ears

Now, I’m a man, so for me this is not even 1/100th of the problem it is for the ladies, but I’ll be dipped in shit if I don’t make a HUGE deal about pulling out my earbuds, saying “WHAT?” and making a gigantic old ass man spectacle of whatever asshole is trying to talk to me while i’m clearly not in ‘talk to me’ mode. 

Listen up Pauly D, there are social cues, right? This is like the MOST basic one. I get that you just HAVE to talk to me (or, much more likely, some poor woman) but you’re blowing it, cochese. Go take a lap, hit the showers and think about what you’ve done. 

If you’re talking to someone who has their earbuds in, it had better be to tell them their pants are on fire or some such other very immediately relevant shit. Otherwise, in the words of Steven Toast, you’re just wasting my time. 

Loud bros

The worst thing in the world is when a bunch of loud ass dopey flat brims get poured into the restaurant/bar you’re at at top volume saying shit like “my dude” and “no, NO, NO, NO bro! It was actually my boy Steez that fucked her” and so on and so forth. The bros. They are loud. They’ll fuck your sisters. They’ll steal shit and they’ll punch you in the face on the way out just for fun. They are no Bueno, these bros. 

My best friend has a stepbrother who goes out and specifically starts fights. His move is this: he goes up to a couple and tells the woman he’d like to fuck her in more or less those exact words. if this doesn’t….

Thank you for reading the excerpt from this week’s Bad Sandwich Chronicles Beyond Thunderdome. If you like what you read, consider subscribing. Either way, thanks for coming! 

xo