This is not The Haters Club You're Looking For discussion
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Weapons of hate:
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I just started the ball rolling, feel free to list your own weapons of hate.
The Lawn Dart: Do I need to mention lawn darts? A tool devised by pinko communist, in hopes that the capitalist pigs would give these “harmless” toys to children. There plan seemed to work well into the 80’S thank the bank we snapped out of that disaster. How many people are getting coloring books for the rest of their lives thanks to that happy go go toy?
Yes they do, my cousin still has a scar.Got the little effer right in the foot. He was wearing those cheap flip-flops… you know the ones you used to be able to pick up in a grocery store checkout line for like 75 cents.
Legos scattered in the carpeting, in the dark. Owie.
JACKIE! You are supposed to attach a story to it.But yes that does suck... My wife took all my legos away because "I don't clean up after myself".
Little electric keyboards!!! My cousin bought one for Kayla (aka Lilith!!!) and the damn thing had a voice recorder…. So Kayla discovered that she could record her own name on the demonic device, long story short after 2 days of hearing: KAYLA, KAYLA, KAYLA, KAYLA in the robotic low quality of the damn thing… it disappear.. . those 2 days rank high among the top most horrible days of my life… sometimes at night I can still hear it… KAYLA KAYLA KAYLA!!!
See Jackie, That is the way to do it.
Oh, sorry, Nick. Okay, roller skates on the feet of 7 year old boys. I'm not that great a skater, so it's all I can do to go around the rink in one direction. But I'm doing okay this one night at Skateland and feeling pretty good about making the turns, crossing one foot over the other - fancy!So I'm going a little faster than usual, when this little rug rat ZOOMS from one side of the rink to the other, not going in a circle AT ALL and comes STRAIGHT at me!!! I tried to ward him off, but of course he's going like a bat out of hell, and barrels right into me.
I go down like King Kong off the Empire State Building, crashing and almost burning, I swear. I may have been rolled over by a few skaters, too.
My ribs were bruised, and my knees didn't feel too hot, either. But I took him down with me. Little menace on wheels, grrrr!
If he was still on the ground I would have run over him for you.
I used to manage a toy store. Whenever an uncle came into the store looking for a birthday / christmas gift for his nephew -- it was always uncles, somehow-- i'd offer this really loud, obnoxious, battery powered toy machine gun that we sold. Amost invariably, their eyes would light up, they'd break out in this evil grin, and i had a sale. I'd also second the electric keyboard. There's something especially charming about a 3 year old, with one of the pre-recorded songs playing at maximum volume, banging away on the keyboard and singing out of key. Sold a bunch of those to uncles, aunts, and grandparents too.
Okay Tom, so you’re that guy. That’s good to know. Giving someone’s kid a loud toy is much like sending someone a post card – it says, I hate you with the white-hot passion of a thousand exploding suns, but for one reason or another, I feel constrained to give you something.
I wasn't the one doing the giving, just sold the stuff to the givers. I'm totally innocent.
I guess I can appreciate that, Tom. You have your way of spreading the word of hate, and I have mine. You sold people obnoxious toys for relatives, I punch hippies at random. Different means to the same end.
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Tickle me Elmo’s: Yes I know it doesn’t seem like a device of destruction, but believe me it is. After a few hours of listening to the little satanic giggle you will be possessed by an uncontrollable urge to go kill someone. The someone is usually a small child. Is killing children fun?
EZ-bake ovens: Again an “almost” completely harmless toys that is actually responsible for the deaths and sever burns injuries of thousands. Little evil bastards slide their inedible paste into the slot, then go outside to play, leaving their adult supervision cluelessly asleep on the couch. When the “inert” brown paste hits a certain tempature it turns into a volatile substance that is reactive to oxygen, often resulting in an explosion large enough to engulf the entire room… adult supervision included.