“What Excites Most People, But Bores You To Tears?”: 44 Honest Answers

The Kardashians, influencers, and marriage/dating reality shows.

The launch event for a new iPhone or sneakers—or whatever. Yaaaaaaawn…

Football, soccer, and sportyball games in general.

Reality shows. They don’t bore me—I find them gross.

Going drinking at a club—everyone wants to get drunk and dance, and that's just not my thing.

'Slebs.' I don’t care what they eat, what they wear, or where they go. Why is everyone so obsessed with them?

The whole “family” hype, and how some people have the audacity to lecture you on how to behave: “Family is everything, you should spend your holidays with your parents, you won’t have them forever, blood is thicker than water,” etc.

That may be true for some—those who had the fantastic chance to be raised in healthy, supportive families.

But not for those of us who grew up in toxic, a*****e families, facing domestic violence, and parents struggling with addictions or mental illnesses. Sometimes, abuse went so far that we experienced [unaliving] thoughts or even attempts.

For people like us, such families are—or were—a nightmare, and we’re still grappling with related traumas and complex PTSD. To my fellow survivors: big hug. Family is where you feel safe, not where you walk on eggshells. Do whatever it takes to protect your mental health and inner peace.

Tik-Twittiot Influencergrams.

Mega-cruises. Too many people who just want to party, get wasted, and act out. Mediocre food and entertainment. Expensive drinks. Excursions in a crowd, surrounded by people trying to sell you junk. It’s not the way to see the world.

Camping. Why haul a bunch of stuff just to sit in the woods with bugs? I can sit around a campfire at home, with a fully functioning, bug-free bathroom just steps away. Why pay money to live like a homeless person for a few nights?

Watching golf. Friends and family have told me it’s a mental game and extremely difficult to master; however, the slow pace has me yawning and bored to tears…

Concerts: expensive. Noisy. Smelly. Overstimulating. And honestly, the album was better.

Christmas. And New Year. Yay! Let’s all spend our time pretending to have fun with people we avoid the rest of the year.

Horse racing.

Being part of weddings. My youngest daughter is getting married in a few months, and the best I can summon is mildly feigned interest. I do not want to dress shop. I do not want to pick venues or indulge in whatever other social hell is expected. I’m supposed to spend HOW much on a mother-of-the-bride dress? Oh hell no—a nice cocktail dress will do.

OH GODS! Is that high-priced tater sack made of satin or Satan? I can’t wear burgundy for fall colors? It’s the color of wine, which I won’t even be able to touch because I’ll be taking so many anxiety meds just to 'perform' publicly.

Not only do I have to worry about wearing heels after a decade, but now I’ve got to dance with my son-in-law, who’s 6' to my 5', WITH HEELS on. I didn’t even like my own d**n wedding.

Religion. ANY religion. Don’t preach to me, don’t read me a sermon, and don’t tell me made-up stories about heaven and hell. There are no such places, no God, and no 'one true religion.' It’s all b****t—made up by people in the Stone Age to explain what they didn’t understand and to keep people in line. Those stories and made-up rules are still used to control people today.

The beach. I can lie in the hot sun somewhere without seagulls, sand, or a bunch of other people.

Amusement theme parks—where the idea of fun is paying a small fortune to stand in endless lines while being jostled by strangers who think 'personal space' is a myth.

The rides are basically overpriced torture devices designed to fling you around until you either vomit or achieve a fleeting sense of 'adrenaline' that everyone else seems to worship. Personally, I’d rather skip the whiplash.

The food? The worst cafeteria meal of your life, three times the normal price, served lukewarm on a plastic tray.

And the atmosphere? Oh, simply magical. Nothing says 'family fun' like being crammed into a sweaty crowd of people who look like they lost the will to live somewhere between the roller coaster queue and the fried-dough stand.

Overall: unnecessary stress, overpriced misery, and a soundtrack of distant screaming. Amusement parks truly are the Disneyland of bad decisions.

Cities. I can handle visiting one for a few days—too many people, too much noise.

Babies. New mothers bring their babies to the break room at work to show them off, and everyone drops everything to coo at the tiny, human-shaped pukey-poop machines.