Is Hate too strong a word?

The world - printed, physical and cyber - is already far too full of 'Top 100 things that I hate' yet it's not going to stop me from from adding a few of my own. And these are just what I can think of for today. I hate:

• People who stick those stupid yellow diamond 'Baby on Board' signs in their car windows. Whew thanks for letting me know; I'll stop driving like a kamikaze lunatic now and forget about my intentions of ramming my car into you and creating a burning, tragic blaze that contributes to the road toll. Or maybe not, now that I'm good and furious about it.
• David Koch from the channel seven Good Morning/Today/Sunrise/Get up you Lazy Bastard Morning Show. I want to smack that smug, self-important 'love me do' look off his face every time I see him (which is not often, thanks to my six year old's addiction to ABC kids).
• Courtesy-challenged chimps who think that the only way you can feel important is when you're in a parking space. We, the the drivers who have circled the carpark three times with a whining child in the back trying desperately to find a park just love you. I've got my indicator on and am waiting patiently as you, Oh Great One, return to your car to load up your groceries, return the trolley and back out so that it can now be my parking space. I know that you can see me here with the motor running and the indicator on, yet you decide that the only way you can continue to yap on your mobile is to give it your total concentration and remain stock still. Then you hang up, load your groceries at a glacial pace and seem to forget how to put your seatbelt on in a time shorter than it takes for rice to cook. You know, too, that I dare not honk my horn because that will only make you move slower. May a travelling band of starving locusts settle in your groin you self-absorbed scumbag!
• The writers of those nutritional panels on the back of evil-but-nice junk food. Be HONEST about it. If a peppermint Aero has seven fingers in it, don't put the nutritional information down equating 'one serve' as only one finger - no-one in their right mind is going to rip open that bar, eat one finger and put it down again until tomorrow, you cold-hearted label liars! And for those 'only one calorie' diet drinks in cans - may your pants be forever on fire. When I'm bothered enough to read the label, it's apparent that you've decided to assume that a 375ml can contains two servings, hence your claim of only one calorie. This may be seen as being a bit pedantic, but most normal people assume that a can of drink is one serve - for them and them only, you sneaky, diseased weasels!
• Funky clothing stores that only stock 'large' sizes that are in reality a size 12 (about a US size 6 or 8 I think). We've been told time and time again that the average women's clothing size is 14, yet you might as well stick in a neon sign that says "No one bigger than size twelve is groovy enough to enter here." What about the poor girls who these days seem to be reaching physical maturity before their teens and are NOT obese, but have already hit their adult size? How is not being able to fit into a 'large' going to make them feel about themselves. Or 37 year olds for that matter....
• Picking on Mark Latham's book or diaries. I haven't been able to get myself a copy yet because they're rarer than chicken lips at the moment due to the huge demand. Put it this way: if you don't like what he says, don't read it. He has a right to say whatever the hell he feels like and you have a right to choose not to read it. So there you self-righteous media morons who consider yourselves to be pure and holy and are in reality about as untainted as bilge water.
• Those bloody poxy, useless lids on icecream containers. Presumably they're cheaper than the old lids but they prevent us from being environmentally friendly and being able to use the containers for storage. They're hard to open the first time with that stupid plastic rim that runs all the way round; they're hard to close and harder again to open the next time. This rant also extends to those lids on plastic containers of fruit that kids like in their lunches. It is guaranteed that when a child actually finds the strength and agility to peel/rip the lid open the juice splatters all down their top, hands and table. Every single time. Not convenient!
• Newspaper 'gossip' columns that rave about the local A-list in town. Who compiles this A-list anyway, their old private school chums, aunties or bank managers? Adelaide has about as many genuine A-list members as Vladivostock. To pretend otherwise is just pathetic and sad. If you must print some gossipy articles about people at least pick someone who has done something other than turn up at the launch of a wine bar; got engaged to a brewing family member or modelled for five minutes. Please!
• Kate Moss. Always have hated her, always will. And I've hated anyone who lauded her (questionable) 'beauty' but ignored her sulky attitude and her obvious belief that no rules governing decent behaviour - or mothering - applied to her. Now that she's in the news for drug use it was obvious to even my 65 year old Mum that she'd been on the powder for years, but had obviously (finally) annoyed someone enough within her fawning entourage that they decided to drop her in the poo. If anything, she would have shocked me more if she'd been seen actually eating something and without a fag in her hand.
• Gone with the Wind, Casablanca, Citizen Kane and Taxi Driver. There, I admitted it. I'm sick to death of seeing their names in every Tom, Dick and Harriet's "Top Movies of all Time" list. GWTW is embarrassing; C is pure cheese and an shockingly bad script; CK is vanity and TD is shocking, unbelievable and has the most intrusive and abrasive music in it ever.

(Big breath in, big breath out). I feel better now.