I hate that my best friend wants to move to Sarasota, Florida.
I hate that every time I go to the apartment there is an enormous, smelly beast of a man who looks like he's 7 feet tall, 500 pounds, hasn't shaven in years, talks like an extremely loud woman about anything an everything no matter how inappropriate no matter how public we are, shows a butt crack even when he's standing up, blabbers endlessly and has no problem breaking in when we are in the middle of having a conversation, and is too oblivious to know that Mark, Robbie and Dustin only keep him around because he cleans the house while he's there.