I love my cousin Fredrickson, but he is so arrogant at the family reunions. How can we possibly be related? He acts like a pig, and please don’t tell me who you voted for. He has poor manners and honestly, everyone is sad when he arrives, and happy when he leaves. My cousin wears so much cologne, his car interior has changed color. Twice.
I love my country, but the three thousand years of pro-neo tribal sequentialism speaks for itself. I am in the process of sending most of my money to the anti-country committee foundation, who are drafting a new national charter where all the people on top will be placed on the bottom. By most means necessary. Proudly flying my flag upside down, until everything changes.
I love my job, but there are a million other things I’d rather do. Have you seen how confusing the vacation policy is? Just tell us in plain English which days we don’t have to be here. And is anyone in management actually paying attention to the hallway temperatures? Newsflash: People spend a lot of time walking around. And please stop telling us about setting attainable goals. If you want me to attain a goal, you’d better put a stick in my hand, and a net in front of me.
I love my town, but the people smell rancid. I mean, there’s a four-letter word every townie needs to get re-acquainted with: B-A-T-H-S. And once you’re not stinking, how about getting to cleaning up the trash in the streets? Don’t make worse the city’s already dreary landscape. Pick up our garbage– I don’t want to see it! This place is an embarrassment and I never admit to living here, except of course when I get my license renewed.
I love America’s Statue of Liberty, but it completely ruins a straight path across the harbor.
I love soda, but it costs too much and there are so many better alternatives.
I support freedom of speech, but if you’re going to insist on saying offensive and hateful things, I’m going to insist you be punished or edited or restricted.
I love classical music, but it can be boring and too long.
I love Roxanne, but it sounds like Joe Pesci is singing the chorus, “Put on the red light!” And Stewart Copeland should concentrate on tuning his drums if he’s going to ruin the verses with those wallowy tom fills. Drop the stupid stick grip and serve the damn song!
I hate to dumpster dive, but I’ve acquired most of my home furnishings from the trash and have in fact made quite a bit of money re-selling tossed items. With a nice gift bag (hold the item by the tissue) they make great presents as well.
I love the word but, but it tends to diminish, and often completely reverse, the sentiment that precedes it.