Mine, in no particular order. I'll stick to the things that short-circuit my normally short-fused existance completely.
1. People carriers and 4X4's;
You are not cool because you drive a Cayenne or a Zafira or an ML320 or a ZeebyZoggy or a Minfindra or whatever the fuck its called. Your headlights are too bright and at a level which permanently scorch my retinas when you slot in behind me in the fast lane in some fucked up attempt at bravado. You may have a three-litre turbo-super-plasmacharged engine but I have a sleek little car with little weight, while you are driving a tractor with the co-efficient of a brick. Incidentally, no-one cares about you or your kids.
2. 86-beam xenon headlights.
Enough, OK? I can see you in my rear-view from about 30 miles back. There are Nimrod Search and Rescue pilots who would like that kind of illumination and that weird polarised bluey white thing isnt cool, it just makes you look like you have failing headlights. You also dont need to have every single fucking light on your vehicle on at the same time.
3. Children.
Lets face it, children have no social skills whatsoever. They are selfish and have zero impulse control. So please dont take them on busses or planes or in shops where I might be. If they starts screaming for no reason whatsoever, beat them hard rather than whispering a mousy "Sshhhh, whats wrong poppet, mummys' here. There there."
SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!
Your kids arent cool either. No one wants a demonstration of that fact that Little Lord Snottery can count to ten. If you are going to let your bastard offspring loose on the community be a good parent and teach them some fucking manners and stop letting them dress like sluts or gangsters when they are barely out of pampers. I was a mouthy little bastard when I was young but listening to two 8 yr old girls calling another girl a "pure fuckin hoor man!!!" shocks me.
4. Adverts.
With very few exceptions the music in adverts is shite, repetitive and annoying. The copy-writers probably think its dead cool but having kids singing some utterly unintelligble shite does not make me want to shop at Asda, buy a Jeep or anything else. Hearing some nu-break-metal-blues-souljazz funk fusion does not make me want to buy Dulux paint.
More to follow, when the redness has gone from my face.