The swine flu. Syphilis. Salmonella. Season six of Lost
. Forget all of those things. Nothing is more insufferable than driving down one of Charleston's narrow streets and having to avoid plowing right into an utterly clueless popped-collar bro wearing sunglasses, talking on his iPhone 5, and riding a skateboard against traffic in the middle of the street. If making street pizza was legal, we'd be making it day in and day out. Get out of the way, douche. Oh. And white boy reggae sucks.