I don’t know why, but the people I choose to be around are some of the angriest MFers I know.

My family was never angry. I don’t come from an angry people. If you list out my family’s worst qualities—impatient, crude, insensitive, loud, Chicagoans—you’ll see that angry isn’t among them. Not on the list! They will ignore you, interrupt you, make fun of you, scoff at your life decisions, and humiliate you, but they’d never yell at you. Even if you spit on their pet tarantula. The most they’d do is just glare at you. Until you blurred them by slightly crossing your eyes. Which was my preferred method of defense in such situations. Blur vs Glare. Blur wins every time.

I was yelled at once by my kindergarten teacher for telling a kid in my class to keep his fucking hands off the Mr. Robot I brought in for show-and-tell.

It was show-and-tell, not show-and-tell-and-fucking-touch, ASSHOLE!

I probably didn’t use the f-word, though.

Mrs. Fleming (the kindergarten teacher who was once stung on her tongue by a bee that landed on her pb&j when she wasn’t looking) must have thought it was really weird when my eyes began drifting towards each other ever . . . so . . . slowly while she was espousing the socialist values of sharing.

I blurred the shit out of that bitch that day.

But I’m off topic.

My family went easy on the anger gene. But the people I’ve chosen to be around, those closest to me, could school Bruce Banner in how to flip the fuck out over nothing. If these people could Hulk-out, they’d just always have the purple pants on and that would probably piss them off even more.


The second angriest person I know is my best friend Brian. We met in Mrs. Fleming’s kindergarten class. I let him cheat off of my papers and we both laughed whenever Dave Sazama couldn’t spell his name right. We solidified our friendship with the traditional TRADING OF THE STAR WARS FIGURES.

As we grew up I noticed a not-so-subtle fact about my bud: EVERYTHING pissed Brian off. EVERYTHING. Fire hydrants, bolts, having to take two cars anywhere. Everything threw him into a fit of tool-throwing, wall-punching, eyes-blazing rage. When he’d get so freaking mad, he’d pronounce every syllable to every word absolutely clearly and abandon all contractions.

Me: “I can’t get off of work that early, I’ll just meet up with you and Pat at Great America.”


Me: “. . .”


He’d also use phrases that contained “scratch,” “wash,” and “jumble.” Those were the words he used when plans changed ever so slightly.

“How’s it going?”


Joking with him didn’t help.

Brian, after bumping his knee into a fire hydrant: “MY FUCK-ING KNEE!”

Tim: “Your knee fucks?”

We didn’t hang around with Tim much longer.

I don’t know why he hated taking more cars than he deemed necessary. He’s not an environmentalist. Maybe in a past life he was a clown or a coyote and he was used to cramming many many people into a single car. I have no idea. Whenever I’ve asked him why he hates taking more than one car to transport less than 5 people, his response is always: “BE-CAUSE IT IS FUCK-ING DUMB.”

Brian’s good qualities far outweigh his anger issues. He’s extremely generous with his time and money. If he gives his word, you never have to doubt him. And when you need him, he’s there. No question. He’s a great friend and I’ve never met a more stand-up guy. He also likes to laugh his ass off. So shenanigans.

And his anger has dulled over the years. I haven’t heard a “jumble” or “SCRATCH IT!” out of him in a long time. It’s a calm that’s the result of maturity and beer.

I still don’t know why I stay close to angry people. One theory I have: maybe I’m not picking angry people to share this journey around the Sun—maybe everyone is this angry and you only find that out once you get to know them. Maybe this is how everyone is when they put that “so-nice-to-meet-you” mask down for good.

Another theory: I’m around these people because I want to learn how to be angry. I’ve never known how to deal with my anger. I can’t let it out until there’s just too much of it and then I explode. And one thing I’ve noticed about people who are angry all the time is that they can let it out in bursts here and there. For them, it’s a storm that passes and then it’s gone and they don’t think twice about it. Seems more manageable that way.

I’m still learning.

Like I said, Brian is the 2nd angriest person I know. The angriest person I know is Jill. She has two states of being: asleep and mad as hell at me. And sometimes, she yells at me in her sleep.

And that’s all I dare to write.



  1. If it is any consolation I think my son is going to be the new kindergarten Brian… he bared his teeth and growled at his teacher – the day he met her. It is going to be a long FUCK-ING year.

    • jeffandjill

      08/28/2014 at 12:54 pm

      That’s funny! For me. Hopefully, his kindergarten teacher will have learned all she needs to know about your son in that growl. He’s established how the relationship will work early and maybe it will be smooth sailing here on out.

  2. At least you got you sink and possibly, just possibly, the TV will stay where it is…[smirk]

  3. your*
    Sorry…too busy laughing

  4. Wise man.
    – An angry woman

    • jeffandjill

      08/28/2014 at 2:37 pm

      It’s funny when Jill gets mad because I tell her she’s the angriest person I know.
      “I am NOT!”
      Me, calmly, “Oh . . . does that make you mad?”
      After that, it’s not funny for the next day.

  5. Ah, the Six Flags Great America in Gurnee. *memories*

    Isn’t it great that THAT’s what I’ve taken away from this entire story?

    • jeffandjill

      09/01/2014 at 3:01 pm

      You should always stop reading once you’ve found your happy place. Otherwise, it’s all a jumble.

  6. I’m not a constantly angry person, but every so often I will be set off into a blazing temper by some stupid accident. Usually it’s if I can’t pick up something with my ridiculous butter fingers even on the 3rd or 4th try, or I’m trying to do something simple and it turns into a giant pain in the arse because I knock over something that spills/messes. Which pisses me off, so I get a bit rough, and usually end up breaking something. Which pisses me off more… etc. I’m getting better at stopping the snowball effect, because I’ve learned to put my hands behind my back, back away and go sit until I calm the hell down. Because the kids don’t want to see Mummy losing it and smashing things.

    • jeffandjill

      09/08/2014 at 6:58 am

      To be able to stop and step away takes some willpower! To not give in to the sweet sweet anger! I still haven’t learned how to be angry in any way that doesn’t involve speaking in gibberish.

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