You know what I really hate?
people who tell you what your food smells like.
It never fails: You go to the company microwave and heat up some leftovers because you don't have any money for a real lunch, and every fucking joker within 11 feet has to come around and say "mmmm, smells like barbecue." Well, that's because it IS barbecue, dumbass! See the chicken bones on my fucking plate? Thanks so much for your input, I might never have known what I was eating if you hadn't stopped by to tell me and interrupted my meal with your stupid, obvious comment. You know what, let me just make a sign that says "Yes, I'm eating barbecue!" so I don't have to stop between every bite and tell somebody else. Or they'll also ask, "Hey where'd you get that from?" Oh, a magical little place called a frigging kitchen! Try it! Now leave me and my God-damned food alone.