You know whats Not on Roids, but is absolutely bursting with audacity? The average human being. We live in a society, yet some of us treat the public square like a personal playground for chaos. Let’s talk about the Convenience Kings—those absolute legends who take up two parking spots because it’s easier, forcing the rest of us into awkward vehicular gymnastics just to find a space.
Then we have the cinematic terrorists. You pay fifteen dollars to see a movie, only to have the magic destroyed by someone whispering loudly or chewing gum with such aggressive enthusiasm that the sound haunts your concentration for hours. It’s a miracle popcorn isnt being thrown more often. And dont even get me started on the public speakerphone users. Blasting a private call in a quiet cafe isnt just a choice; it’s a small act of social torture for everyone trying to enjoy a latte in peace.
In the professional world, we have the Thanks loop—people who reply Thanks to every single trivial email, creating a grating mountain of notifications. Or the corporate ghost who ignores simple greetings, triggering a subtle, persistent irritation that lingers longer than the smell of burnt breakroom coffee.
On the road, we deal with the bumper-riders who think slow traffic is a high-stakes race, and the sidewalk strollers who drift oblivious through crowds, creating human gridlock. At the grocery store, we encounter the Express Lane Architects—people with overflowing carts who think the ten-item limit is merely a suggestion.
Even at home, the madness continues. We have the Science Experimenters who let dirty dishes sit for days in blissful ignorance, and the electricity wasters who leave every light on, provoking silent resentment from anyone with a shred of environmental consciousness. Whether its streaming massive files on a shared network or clicking remind me tomorrow on a software update for the hundredth time, we are all trapped in a cycle of shared frustration and silent judgment. We know its annoying. We do it anyway. We are all monsters.
