Wrath

I hate everything. Okay, I love one thing. Hating.

I hate Best Of issues, I hate my editor, I hate narrative writing, I hate all those brilliant writers at the New Yorker, I hate sources who go off the record to say some weak bullshit you wouldn’t want to quote anyway, I hate New Times, I hate Village Voice Media, and I hate the Bay Guardian even more.

I hate hypocritical hippies who want to save the world but only talk about themselves, I hate all the drama queens who said they’d move to Canada if Bush got reelected and never did, I hate hybrid SUVs, I hate people who talk about their “passion,” and I hate phonies who say “Let’s do something soon” and then never call you.

I hate that little piece of salad stuck between your teeth, I hate going to the dentist, I hate listening to your bullshit, I hate dumbasses who suck out on the river with 8-5 off-suit, I hate beggars who complain when you only give them a quarter, I hate it when my girlfriend makes me watch Grey’s Anatomy, and I hate it when Grey’s Anatomy gets pre-empted by What About Brian even more.

I hate music snobs, I hate hip-hop with a message, I hate Leslie Griffiths’ new orange eyeshadow, I hate it when the neighbor’s cat beats up my cat, I hate dog owners who lock up their pets all day in an apartment, I hate people who order a Whopper with Diet Coke, I hate Monterey Market’s prices, but I hate Andronico’s even more.

I hate trying to find parking in San Francisco, I hate the five-foot parking mirages between curb cuts, I hate $75 parking tickets, I hate not being able to turn left for twenty blocks, I hate the smell of urine in the Tenderloin, I hate Gavin Newsom’s new girlfriend, I hate the wannabe artists living in the Mission and their ironic trucker hats, and I hate San Franciscans who think the city -- oh, excuse me, The City -- is the center of the universe (that’s lowercase).

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I. Hate. You. I HATE YOU.

But that’s just me. So please don’t hate this paper. Please don’t hate our advertisers. And please don’t hate me. -- Will Harper