10 Things i’ve Learned to Hate
By Dan Pullinger
Whenever I’m feeling lost I like to make a list. They’re just so re-assuring. It doesn’t matter what it’s about, it’s more about the therapeutic process. What’s more it’s easy to trick people into thinking you have a meticulously ordered mind and something of a life plan if you’re brandishing a freshly produced list. So when Mr Bellbottom tells me I have half an hour to come up with an article because I thought it was about a week before it actually is, and that is an interesting story in itself, I decided to dazzle him with a list. The next part was the title of said list, and given that two editions ago I did a list about nice things to do in iso I thought it appropriate on this occasion to visit the dark side of lists. This was alarmingly easy and so without any further waffle here is, in no particular order ….
1. Nat’s what I reckon For those of you that remain blissfully unaware of the internet cooking pseudo-sensation that is Nat, I envy you your ignorance. For those that insist on sharing videos of this ink-besmirched buffoon I now hate you also. This talentless soggy polly waffle has been inexplicably cluttering my feed for over six weeks now with his sweary bonhomie and crapulous cooking tips. How it is that people I have hitherto thought of as valuable members of my on-line community could think that this colourless gherkin is worthy of a retweet or share is well beyond me. He has driven me to paroxysms of rage and property destruction far in excess of anything a rugby league player could rustle up on Mad Monday and for what? A sauce made from tomato, garlic and the f-word? Give me strength. There are those who’ve suggested I am jealous of him and his rapid rise to stardom and they’re absolutely right. I hate him I hate him I HATE HIM!!
2. Possums Having had a little extra time at home I have become aware that I’m not the only soul that resides at my address. It turns out I not only have a family of possums living rent free in my ceiling cavity, I have a family of possums now living rent free in my head. I was advised that in order to outwit these evil yet adorably furry collections of hatred I would have to think like them and so it has come to pass that in between hissing like something from the zombie apocalypse I have now invested my childrens future on rolls of chicken wire and expand-a-foam in order to prevent their impudent comings and goings. After eight weeks the score remains Possums: 1, Me: 0.
3. Eddie McGuire This would usually require no explanation as Eddie would have to be one of Australia’s most easily detested sub-humans. However, in my case I must elaborate. You see, just before Covid-19 became a thing, I was selected by way of an extraordinarily painful audition to be on his appalling celebration of mediocrity that is the show ‘Millionaire Hotseat’. You can catch me on TV in late August apparently, but in the meantime all my carefully orchestrated banter with the great man has been reduced to no more than a memory – banter that includes such witty ripostes as “yes Eddie, I hope to be bringing back the Goodes” and “yes Eddie, I’m busting to be up and Adam”. I’m still reeling from the realisation that, spoiler alert, I didn’t win anything and I made a complete tit of myself on national TV. It is some consolation I suppose that whilst I remain an anonymous regional nobody he remains a highly public tiny-minded wally.
4. My Kidneys Usually I wouldn’t be down on any of my organs but it seems that in isolation my kidneys took it upon themselves to produce some small mobile calculi, better known as kidney stones. The upside to this is that they were lasered earlier this week and as such I am off my face on morphine as I write this, so that’s something I guess.
5. Social Media If ever there was something as eminently hateable as the barbed shafts of envy that spear forth from social media into a fragile heart then I know not what it is. The whole design of it is a giant pissing contest constructed solely to tell you that no matter what you do it will never be enough. From the perfection of an acquaintance’s
carefully manicured home-cooked macaroons to the apparently spontaneous yet meticulously choreographed dance routine of a distant relative it is all nowt but an elaborate ruse to have you believing all that you represent is somehow inferior. Or maybe it’s just me. Either way I hate it.
6. Donald Trump He’s still there. He’s still awful. I still hate him and so should you.
7. Home yoga/gratitude journaling Under normal circumstances these would be things I would happily and tolerantly ignore. Under the conditions imposed upon us, quite involuntarily I might add, by faceless bureaucrats in the employ of a petulant pugnacious Pentecostal yes-man I have been made to feel that I am less of person because I engage in them not. Welcome to the list.
8. Politicians The take-home message that the current mob spent the last election campaign driving home was the promise that they were not the Labor party. Be this as it may they do an uncanny impersonation of them these days. The passage of time can be an ironic old slapper like that.
9. Lists I mean, what’s the point?
10. Bono The worst thing about this Stranger Things driven 80’s revival for a 40-something chap like myself is having to endure painful memories for a second time. Devo I can cope with. Bono I can not.