There’s a lot of hate in me. That’s for sure. I mean, except for fridays, when there is a lot of popcorn in me. Then the next day, when there is a lot of popcorn in the toilet. Seriously. Eat nothing but popcorn for a day, then take a dump. 100% corn. It is like somebody dumped a buckwheat pillow into the bowl. But I digress. Some popcorn, but mostly hate. And when you’ve got hate in you, much like when you’ve got corn in you, it needs to come out. For me, that means a cunning and well crafted threat. These things just fire out of me when I least expect it. Again, not unlike corn.
Unfortunately, for some reason, regardless of my mood, people seem to be entertained by me. Except of course, when I am trying to be entertaining… like now. Ahem. I personally think that the things I say are as terrifying as they are clever. And thus, as a service for those of you out there seeking to let that hatred burning inside of you out, I have gathered together a few gems that I think might help you to get your point across. Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty more where this came from… especially if my arch nemesis Reese Witherspoon remains at large. YOU HEARD ME, WITHERSPOON! Don’t think I forgot about Election. Just because everybody else did doesn’t mean I did. You just sit there in your mansion, pretending like your name doesn’t sound like someone the Stooges would pummel in a pie fight, and just assume that everything that follows is directed at you.
Or I will…
These are the second half of an ultimatum. If you are looking for an “or else”, look no further.
Or I will draw a circle around you and destroy everything in the circle.
Or I will beat you with sticks. And I don’t mean two sticks at a time. I mean I will beat you with a stick until it breaks, then move on to the next stick.
Or I will beat you to within an inch of my life.
I hope you…
Here lie the ill wishes. Nothing brightens the mood like wishing doom upon someone.
I hope you trip over your own neck.
I hope you choke to death on your loved ones.
I hope you fall up an elevator shaft.
I hope you get eaten by a donkey.
I hope you accidentally swallow a tennis racket.
I hope you get a ceiling fan lodged in your kidney.
Sometimes you threaten to do it to them. Sometimes you pray fate does the job. In this case, you suggest a worthy punishment.
You should be shot out of a cannon and into another cannon.
Declarations of Hatred
Because people won’t know unless you tell them.
I hate you with all of my internal organs. Most hate only with their heart, but I have more hate than my heart can contain.
In the past, I had the rare compulsion to wield a device, a device from which death itself springs, indiscriminately upon all who drew near. The past is notable not for the compulsion but for its rarity. Indeed, each passing moment brings my resolve closer to the breaking point… and also I hate you.
This much is clear. You are a fool and your death will be a celebrated one.
There. I feel cleansed. I hope that you can hurl these prickly barbs of scorn at those who would be so foolish as to invoke your wrath more successfully than I did. Maybe then you can go on with your life hate free. Not me though. Not while I live in a world where LEGALLY BLONDE gets made into a MUSICAL! A MUSICAL! GAAAAAAAH! I hope you mistake a porcupine for a contact lens! I hope you dress in paper machete and go bungee jumping over a Mexican birthday party! I hope crows nest in your hair! I hope you fall into a hole end up in a fantasy world where knee caps are a delicasy. GAAAAAAAAAAH!