30 Day Writing Challenge: Day Nine

Pet Peeves

This must be the third post that has asked for me to complain. Not that I am complaining about being invited to complain, as I like to complain.

Reality Television

Reality television is formulaic, and here are some examples.
Kitchen Nightmares has an ironic title, since each the first third of each show features Chef Ramsay and his Nightmare on Elm Street face march forth in order that they may find some restaurant problems. Into the second third of the show, and we are greeted by Ramsay yelling at people and interspersed external shots where, in a voice at least two octaves higher, he whines in bewilderment, safely out of earshot.
WAIT! We’re reaching the end and suddenly the restaurant owner decides they don’t see it Ramsay’s way anymore – cut to commercials!!!
The first third of a property show has an annoying couple looking to buy a home that they almost certainly don’t deserve. They have high expectations, but they are not willing to spend any money. We reach the second third of the show, the search for a property is about to begin and every God-damned show features the line: “It will be a challenge to find a home that fits their budget”.
TIME FOR A TALENT SHOW!!! It could be a cooking show, or one of the 500 singing contests, but whichever it is, there is a middle-aged person blabbering on about how tough their parents had it. BLAH BLAH BLAH. You’re a baby-boomer, of course they did.

Manicures on Public Transit

A few days ago, there was a bad snow storm. My journey ended up taking about an hour-and-a-half when it would normally take about 20 minutes. It seemed more like five hours, owing to the woman beside me deciding that she could make better use of this time by filing her finger nails beside me. Each stroke of the nail led to and elbow in my side. It was like sitting next to Vanessa Mae, except much less sexy.


I hate horses. But they can be pets, so I am including them as a pet peeve. Being honest, I am actually terrified of horses. They know I am, they react to my fear, and that, in turn, is why I hate them. There is no worse an animal to have around in an emergency situation. Imagine a fire in a stable. The horse is going to kick out at you, wild-eyed, and break your spine before it craps down its own backside and then runs into a wall and breaks all four of its own legs. A cockroach would be more use. I don’t understand the high-esteem that horses are held in, unless you particularly like the glue made from their bones after they have been involved in a hapless accident. With all the saddles, blinders, reigns and such, maybe it’s a fetish.

Vanessa Mae is a violinist
Blinders are sometimes known as blinkers

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