Here follows what may become a regular feature of IP, a catalogue of unacceptable things. I know I call them "dealbreakers," but that's only because in my mind, I imagine these things--which I'm going to categorize by sense--to be things that, should you enjoy them, would cause me to hate you. This of course is not the case. Even I am not that big of an asshole. (Well, I am, but for a lot of other reasons.) At any rate, take these for the subjective opinions that they are.

Or, for your own amusement, use them as an index of how disgusting you are. Either way, I hope that one day we can meet in a conciliatory fashion to discuss these issues, and how you may go about changing your personal habits so as to make the world a slightly less repellent place for me to endure.

TASTE: Sauerkraut

Who doesn't like slimy cabbage? NOT GERMANS! From the same capricious, devil-may-care people who brought us things like obnoxiously expensive luxury cars and Frederich Nietzsche comes this delicious recipe featuring a salad green that almost nobody likes! (Get out of here, Korea.) That people put this stuff on innocent hot dogs somehow makes it worse--and this crime is not mitigated by the fact that people also countenance relish in the same context. Relish is, all on its own, a horrible misdeed. It's just that sauerkraut is infinitely worse. Relish is to sauerkraut as David Caruso is to Carrot Top. There are degrees.

(NOTE: I have German blood. It runs vinegar-thin. And I have cabbage in my bones. This may explain the crackly noises when I stretch.)

TOUCH: Slow shower drains

There are worse things than cleaning hair traps. I mean, it's an icky deal prising out the clumps of jetsam pubes from the catchall, but the smart amongst us do it right before getting in the shower, as you are just about to get clean.

Worse is the shower water that pools around the ankles. I do not know why this is.

It's hardly worse, when you think about it, than taking a bath. Taking a bath is just really making a thin stew of yourself. So why do I get so skeeved out when I feel the shower water collecting around my feet? Why do I uncomfortably dance so; an awkward little two-step where every footplant results in a glum little splash?

And how is this worse than cleaning a hair trap? It shouldn't be. And yet it is. I have often whispered to my sullied feet after such an unrewarding shower: I'm sorry. I will take better care of you.

HEARING: The Offspring

A "friend" of mine recently reminded me of this band's existence, and it was . . . well, completely debilitating. Hoobastank and Sugar Ray at least had the decency, while being completely reprehensible, to just record completely forgettable songs, no matter how much overplay they got. But The Offpring--"Come Out and Play," "Pretty Fly for a White Guy"--manufactured tunes so diabolical that they are all but ineradicable from one's consciousness. One can only hope that they all end up in some Holiday Inn version of hell where they are forced to do covers of Collective Soul songs. (Backing band: Collective Soul.)

OLFACTORY: Office Microwave Chili

Really, this is a tough one. Given my choice, I'd toss the fucking office microwave onto I-5 to be run over by trucks. The smells are unholy: ramen, lasagna, tuna fish . . . it's a Collective Soul of bad odors. It just fucking invades everything. It is the smell of ruin and calamity and everything bad. I someday dream of storing up some quantity of vomit in a jar and then reheating it for all to enjoy. "Don't mind me! Just reheating vomit here! No use wasting partially digested food!"

But I dare not pursue this. We already have "Hot Pockets." Society surely does not need "Hot Vomit."

Maybe.

VISUAL: Hot Vomit.

Don't make me do anything stupid, okay? I'm a man on the edge.