How to hate

That son-of-a-bitch Dom-hating grumpy dick-licker of a security guard has been reinstated by the management of my building. The same whore-fucking dirty rotten son-of-a-cunt who has hated me since the “You’re handsome” (http://dominicharvey.blogspot.com/2007/09/handsome-mans-burden.html) episode. Every time I see him I give him a big smile and a cheery “Hello”, and every time he sees me he half-closes his eyes and his face distorts into a kind of trembling, twisted, infuriating train-wreck of a grimace, which makes me beam with joy like a giddy schoolgirl after the first time she drove a schoolboy to wanton despair.
What can I do with this evil man? Baby suggests the fact he despises me so much indicates he maybe loves me. Baby should know – every time she unleashes her hatred of me she points out it is only because she loves me so much, and if she didn’t love me she wouldn’t bother.
His over-theatrical derision drives me to an exaggerated joy whenever I see him. I don’t know why, maybe because I know it etches the hatred deeper into his crooked spine.
I’m at breaking point. Next time I see him I may just pull out Mr Thriller and wave Him in his face, or maybe I’ll just grab the fire extinguisher and pummel his skull into jelly until I’m sure I’ll never have to see his twisted lips again.
Ah hatred, how energizing you are, how inspiring you are, how intoxicating you are, how I adore you.