This is not The Haters Club You're Looking For discussion
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i hate the word hubby
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Yeah, I agree. Terrible word. Maybe wives should just call their husbands by their fucking name. This goes along with something else I hate which is when people shorten words in an attempt to sound cool. Ex: This girl the other day said "I really like your ensem." Meaning, "I really like your ensemble."
1) I fucking hate the word "ensemble" to begin with.
2) When she used the word "ensem", I felt like barfing. I could not even get over it to realize she was complimenting me. Instead, I felt like she had stabbed a knife in my brain.
3) I also really hate how my computer will not let me use the apostrophe key right now so I have to type out all of my contractions.
My worst birthday nightmare was my Dad taking me out to one of those restaurants where they have someone playing piano and singing in a corner. I was around 12. My dad had the guy sing me "Michelle" by the Beatles for my birthday. I have always hated that song. Before and since.
Uh, I was once engaged to this guy who had a thing for Elvis. He sang "Love Me Tender" to me in front of 150 people, acappella, in an Elvis voice...he never could understand why that was not the most romantic moment in my life (as I often sited it as the most embarrassing!).
By the way, I didn't know Elvis, but I HATE his music!
My teenager's grandmother (paternal, thank you very much) wanted to have a Mariachi guy go to her high school on her birthday and serenade her with the song "Margaritaville" (her name is Margaret)...I was practically torn in half. Part of me couldn't even believe she would come up with that inane idea and have the gall to actually think M would possibly enjoy it... the other half of me kept imagining M trying to crawl inside her desk due to the sheer horror of the situation. That was a tiny bit funny to me.
I guess you'd call that my mean side.
By the way, my hubby, uh, husband I mean, hates the word preggers. As in: The hubby got his little lady preggers.
Yes, that was the beginning of the end. He put the final nail in the coffin when he conned my friend Isabel into teaching him to sign (I used to go to school to interpret for the deaf) it, and he sang it to me again (this time in private) and signed it. As it turns out, as much as I hate being a "spectacle", it was worse having no one else around. The entire time he was singing I just kept thinking, "oh god, when he's done I'm going to have to say something...what the hell am I going to say???" Two weeks later I came back to Oregon and it was over. (Mind you there were other issues, I’m not THAT shallow!)
Val, I can't even remember to be honest, I think I blocked it out. We were driving back from Montauk Point and he just pulled over on the side of the express way in his brown Mazda and started singing and signing. I think he was trying to make up for the public humiliation, replace it with something good. I think he really believed it was "good", it was not! I'm pretty sure it was something along the lines of, "Uh...thanks...can we go home now? I think I should go back to Portland for a while."
Yeah, I like "fatty", just call em "fatty"...they're already prone to crying!
Hehehehe...hehehehehehehe...hehehehe
Hehehehe...hehehehehehehe...hehehehe
That's because a "muffin top" is a (hopefully teenager) cubby girl with skin tight hip huggers and that lob over em! (Occasionally without a shirt that meets the pants, so you get to experience the whole shebang!)
I don't think it's good form to tell your wife she has muffin top. At least you didn't add camel toe. (Did you?)
Hmmm... I guess that explains why I have been on the couch... I just thought it was a cute way to say " Hey babe! Your starting to show" Instead of, "Gewww! your getting a bit chunky don't you think?" }:-D
Oh god Nick, this calls for flowers, chocolates AND a foot massage...you better get crackin lad!
By the way, the "Elvis Impersonator" as my family refer to him was named Nick...
By the way, the "Elvis Impersonator" as my family refer to him was named Nick...
|:-o Really, I Hate being associated with Elvis impersonators.... And I guess I deserve the couch...
You know what I hated when I was preggers? People who touched my stomach... on the subway, on the street...in stores...at bars (kidding) I had co-workers who wanted to put a red thread on my belly to ward off evil spirits... insane
Nobody tried to touch my stomach without permission when I was preggers. Maybe it was that "touch-my-stomach-without-permission-and-I'll-kill-you" look I had on my face.It was probably that or maybe they were just horrified by the thought that I had a huge muffin top.
Sorry man, but Elvis was one weird dude! I realize that most ridiculously rich people have eccentricities, but this guy was above and beyond. As a kid, I loved his movies - Kissin Cousins - was a fav. Now, anything remotely connected with an Elvis song sends a shiver up my spine!
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I hate singing Happy Birthday, but I so much more hate having it sung to me! In public is torture in fact. I refuse to be taken out to dinner on my actual birthday in fear that someone would be cruel enough to inform the wait staff! (shudder)