Several summers ago, several "Coney Island Whitefish" were strewn about our condo, and this one, coincidentally, had taken up residence in my shrubbery (aka BOXwood).
Yeah, this was not a quality of life issue in the condo, warranting a knock on the door by the Bucktoothed Bitch (TM) or warranting the dispensing of fines. Yeah. Big bloated bags of rancifying DNA, aka BIOHAZARDS, yeah. Yet one more example of the ineptitude of our condo management, yet my pretty kurtas hanging to dry for a scant half hour on a dry breezy day in the summer is the REAL quality of life issue that demands immediate attention.
FUCK THESE PEOPLE.
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What sayeth thou? (Mean people suck, don't fuck it up.)
"I hate people."
"People" stop being "people" when they become friends.
Friends stop being friends when they become assholes.
So to refine my hatred, I hate people and I hate assholes.