You are the rock stuck inside of  my sock.

You are drying off naturally after the longest shower in history, because you forgot the towel.

Like the string that is hanging off of my sweater.  I keep tugging it and

pretty soon it is short enough for July weather.

The person using the car horn instead of ringing a door bell.

The low battery symbol on my cell.

Pungent perfume from a co-worker, the grossest smell.

The **** that asks for the red piece from your package of sweets.

The friend who cancels five minutes before every time you meet.

The rap artist that thanks God when he wins an award, even though his

songs are just about killing.

Medical technicians milling about when your arm really is broken.

The chapstick left in the pocket when the clothes are in a dryer.

Dress pants for work that are so tight, you feel you must be riding a wire.

The friend's children that you think are rude,

Unexpected company when you and your lover were getting in the mood.

But I guess it is just easier to say, I just don't have a good attitude.