Wild thing, I think I hate you

A somewhat inappropriate title for what captured my bitter little mind from 2-4:55pm. I hate listening to my co-worker talk. I really do hate it. I've gone to new extremes of rude. In a similar situation, the old ro would probably stare into the distance as if suffering from an acute case of autism, politely waiting for your idiotic sentence to finish it's ooze from your mouth. The old ro, who surprisingly enough, could multitask--would pick key examples of your idiocy as things to hate about you later. The old ro would more than likely keep her hatred loosely hidden from your awareness, only to speak of your ills for her own and other's future amusement. The old ro led a boring life, and this made her feel better about herself, especially since it was so fittingly deserved.
I could describe this miserable culprit, but no descriptions can encaptulate the essence of what makes my blood boil, my brain hurt, my fists curl, and my mouth shout. I realize that without a viable description, I cannot justify these sociopathic, reactive fissures that reflect my sentiment as "cuckoo".
I feel like Steve Martin in Planes, Trains and Automobiles. Do not get me wrong, I liked John Candy's character, and I think learned the lesson which the movie so provocatively unfolded before my very amused eyes. She just talks "like a chatty cathy doll", she just goes, and goes and goes and goes. Unfortunately, I have not reached any high states of meditative powers which summon the ability to tune out the useless and annoying. In fact, my mind does the opposite. I say, "mind, do as i say, ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore." But no, I hear every useless word she spits from her teeth. Honestly, I'd rather listen to hours of toilets flushing.
It did send me into one somewhat interesting tangent. Thinking about humor, sense of humor, and what people with no sense of humor think is attractive about someone else with no sense of humor. It must be like a positron-electron explosion, only the boring version. I hate when people start sentences with the line..."you know, what's funny about that is....." and nothing funny ever comes. Promising something funny, and then not delivering should be a punishable offense. I can't wait until I rule the world, I'm going to create a lot more punishable offenses. I'll hold interviews for the sentencers.

I'm not sure I made any of my points. I'm a louse, let me count the ways.