While stuck in traffic yesterday, I had this thought about several folks:

Hey! It's possible I could like you. We could even be friends. You're driving a nice car, and seem to be a nice person. There's even a chance I could learn to like your music. If I could hear it, that is. But . . . I don't hear a bleeping thing except that bleeping thumping bass woofer you've got stuck in your trunk, and turned up to 8.6 on the Richter scale. Like I said, you may be a really nice person, but at this exact moment, I really, really wish that the wires to your woofer would short out to, say, about 1200 volts, and generate a pressure wave that would completely implode your worthless, bleeping skull.