The hills are alive...with my self-indulgent whining

These are a few of my least favorite things:

1) People who feed pigeons. This defies the laws of logic and sanitation. You are not the Bird Lady in Mary Poppins, nor are you a charming oldster on a Central Park bench tossing popcorn to docile birdies. You are dumping a loaf of bread onto the sidewalk, causing an unholy swarm of overfed winged rats in front of my building. I will hunt you down and make you lick the be-shatted sidewalk under the 90/94 overpass on Western if I catch you at it again.

2) People who read newspapers while standing on crowded trains. Yes, I understand that snapping the paper before you fold the page back is very satisfying. Balance that pleasure against my surprise as your fist whizzes past my face in the packed aisles of our morning commute. Shitting my pants in fear really detracts from the intense pleasure I derive each morning from stewing in my own sweat and the fetid breath of the seven people currently sharing six vertical inches of germ-covered pole.