I'm not going to introduce this article with some long-winded, repetitive diatribe about things that make me uncomfortable. I'm just going to tell you outright. On to the bastards that make me feel gross or awkward or creeped out or annoyed.
People that enjoy being referred to by their first AND middle names: Hey Marie Anne, why don't you and Anthony Michael hold hands and refer to each other by your first and middle names as you climb into a wood chipper? I will NEVER refer to someone by two names. To me, you have a first name, a last name, or a derogatory nickname with which I will refer to you. That is all. You know what kind of people love to be referred to by two names? Murderers, psychopaths, and serial killers. Don't believe me? John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald, John Wayne Gacy, Sara Jane Moore, Henry Lee Lucas, Jack The Ripper coincidence? I think not! Beware of anyone who's referred to by both names. I always knew I inherently distrusted Jamie Lynn Spears. Now I know why.
Overly affectionate couples: Hey. What are the chances that you two could stop being so adorable in public for five seconds? I don't want to watch you cuddle, make out, and caress each other at this bowling alley, and I don't want to see you sitting on his lap while he runs his hands through your hair at this bar. I came here to drink and be merry, but instead I get to watch your horrific "romantic" antics while throwing up in my mouth and trying to find something with which to gouge my eyes out. It's gross. Cut that shit out. You don't have to find a room, just an area as far away from me as possible before I punch both of you in the ovaries (guys that do this have ovaries). It could be a hallway, a parking lot, a walk-in oven I don't care, just go away and take your creepy PDA away from me now.
Music lovers: Hey there. As if your "retro" Velvet Underground T-shirt-the one that you just bought last week and washed 40 times before you wore it-didn't tell me that you love music, you feel the need to tell everyone around you about this new band you found that no one knows about. And lest I not forget your I-Pod, whose earbuds are never far from your ossicles (the bones of your ear, idiot. I Googled the shit out of that). Even when you're conversing with people, you've got those damn headphones in your ears; I just told you an entire story, which you watched me tell you intently, before you take the things off and tell me you couldn't hear me. Dick. Peel those sound nipples out of your ears and get a life. And no, I don't want to know about the sick garage band you and a couple of middle school kids are starting, ass.
A random list of other types of people, sans explanation, who make me uncomfortable in no particular order: optimistic Mets fans, pretentious asses who criticize smokers, people who can't drive (Asians, women, and Asian women), beer snobs that think they're better than me because they drink some lager I've never heard of, vegetarians, fans of women's athletics, every Laundromat patron ever, people with Bluetooth headsets, people who like romantic comedies, Hyundai drivers, convenience store clerks (except for Arnold from Quik Chek, that man is the shit), amateur poets and emo kids (practically the same thing), and people who claim to never watch porn. Oh, and people who drink from juice boxes. I can't explain that one, they just do.
So there you go. All of you creepy bastards make me, and most humans, undeservedly uncomfortable. Your unadulterated, unwarranted, unwanted douchebaggery makes me fear for the future of our species, and your incredible ability to make every situation awkward is almost unparalleled. Stop doing the aforementioned things, or you will undoubtedly continue to waste precious oxygen that could otherwise be used more fruitfully by people who have more redeeming social value, like potential murderers, pederasts, thieves, and fans of American Idol.