Get ready to confess your unpopular opinion: Part 3

Get ready to confess your unpopular opinion: Part 3
                        

It’s time for the third installment of #confessyourunpopularopinion. I had people coming out of the woodwork telling me things that bugged them, disagreeing with me and what bugs me, and an overall howling at the moon for permission to air grievances.

I’m thinking grievance might be too big of a word to use because, honestly, someone telling me they like the toilet paper roll with the paper coming from under instead of over is more of an annoyance to me (a toilet paper over fan) than anything.

Also, there are new rules that allow people to change.

Since the last time I wrote one of these, we ingested seven seasons of “Game of Thrones,” and my life is now altered. April and the new season can’t come soon enough.

I love winter. I live in Ohio, where it gets cold and it snows. The more snow that is forecast, the happier I am.

Why the surprise, fam? Why the complaining about “another cold snap” or “a big storm coming” with the roll-y eye emoji?

Maybe a move to Florida in winter is in order, where most of the time heat and humidity reside in full force. You know where you live, friends.

I love words, so when I hear the repetition of oft-used phrases, it makes me rage and become the Incredible Hulk. I believe a tightly tuned vocabulary is important. I also believe that thinking for yourself, instead of repeating phrases that everyone and their brother says, is even more important.

Somewhere, playing in the background of our lives, are the same stations, the same anchors repeating the same things, or other talking heads that drill a notion subliminally into someone’s mind. They don’t call it an echo chamber for nothing.

Then we repeat it, not even thinking about where it came from, and voila: We’re using the same tired notions and words on repeat.

Let’s learn new words and ideas every day. Can I do a repeat and remind everyone I don’t like Chipotle? Sure, they’re doing semi well-seasoned meats with mediocre guacamole and salsa that involves corn. (Insert unsmiling emoji right here) I can’t get behind it and will seek out taco trucks or eat from my own kitchen before eating there.

My daughter is grimacing while reading this. She can go write her own column on her love for Chipotle.

While we’re doing foods, I’m going to share my distaste for barbecue chicken pizza with pineapples. Pineapples don’t belong on pizza; they belong in a 7-Up salad (see the 1970s for that reference).

I love pineapples. I love barbecue chicken. What I don’t want is barbecue sauce on my pizza. I want a robust coating of light pizza sauce on a handmade crust, a thick layer of pepperoni and sausage, some red onion, noncanned mushrooms, maybe some hot yellow peppers, and a heavy coating of provolone or mozzarella.

Do not come at me with your barbecue chicken pizza with pineapples. I will put on some fencing gear and draw swords. Diet coke. That is all.

I want to hear your unpopular opinions, dear readers. Leave me a comment or send them in, and maybe I’ll do a compilation (anonymously, of course, unless you want your name mentioned), and we’ll see what everyone is thinking about or annoyed by in 2019.

Here’s your chance to let it all out because you know what? We’re allowed.


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