I’m reading The Road to Little Dribbling, a travel memoir by Bill Bryson.
In this morning’s chapter, Bill (I feel like I can call him Bill, after spending a decade travelling the world with him in his books) promoted a concept he’s come up with: we should all be allowed a list of a dozen things we hate without having to defend, justify, or explain it.
I think with most of mine, the explanation is self-evident:
- Small talk.
- People who call holidays ‘holibobs.’
- Love Actually.
- The people and charities dedicated to saving giant pandas from extinction.
- Portmanteaus.
- Books written in present tense.
- Gullible fools who claim the Loch Ness Monster isn’t real.
- Olives.
- People over 20 who brag about how much alcohol they drank on a night out.
- Brexit (see #5) and everyone who voted for it. All 20 million of them.
- The fetishisation of coffee.
- Centipedes.
What’s your list?
Anna Kaling - Author 
Holibobs? OMG. No, never heard that one before, but I hate it already.
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Isn’t it disgusting? It’s usually said by the kind of person who refers to their small child as “my sexy lil man x.”
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Do they give the sexy lil man prezzies at Xmas?
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Actually just shuddered.
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1, 2, 9 and 10 – agreed.
My additions:
Tiny little buses and trains on crowded services
Tea.
Noisy children.
Bill Bryson.
Celebrity TV shows.
Slugs.
Gregg’s.
Pretentious literary fiction.
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Good additions (mostly).
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Holibobs? Really? I dislike these people already.
People who say, “I’m a hugger!”
People who stand to close to you in queues because YES THAT’S GOING TO MAKE IT GO SO MUCH FASTER.
People who eat loudly.
People.
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I could’ve just said “1-12. People” and left it there, but it made for a short blog post.
“I’m a hugger!”
“Oh really? I’m a puncher!”
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