Junk grabbing and other nasty things you make me watch

Anyone who went to my high school in the 80s can attest to the validity of the guido junk grab habit.  This was a common occurrence in the hallways and it almost always cracked me up.  So much so, I eventually brought it into Drama Club for group consideration and zealous imitation.  And boy howdy, we imitated till our crotches were sore.  The thing we all noticed about this particular habit, was that it happened in conjunction with speaking. As if the guido in question was squeezing the words out of his penis and up into his mouth.  Gross, maybe, but the only logical explanation we found. These days, I'm not really surrounded by guidos out here on the Left Coast.  The only knowledge most of these people have regarding guidos comes from watching Jersey Shore.  However, this doesn't prevent junk grabbing from coming into my line of vision. And it's still just as fucking disgusting. Back then, we also assumed that the penii (plural of penis?) in question weren't really body parts, but rather something velcroed to the groin and removed at night for showering and sleeping.  Why else would it require quite so much adjustment?  You don't rearrange your ass cheeks, your earlobes, or your knee caps...why does the junk need to be moved, adjusted, readjusted, and juggled? Think about it. Please don't try to justify it with some of the excuses I've heard over the years. Bat wings, friction, underwear pinch, ball sweat...all not my problem.  Head to the bathroom if you are suffering THAT much and fix the issue down under.  But when you do it incessantly, and clearly mindlessly, it's a friggin habit, nothing more.
But the enthusiastic manhandling of one's junk isn't the only gross-assed habit I've been forced to witness. Can someone tell me why grown-ass people pick their noses?  The invention of the tissue happened in 1924 by the good folks at Kleenex.  Nobody is forcing you to carry around a germ-laden, soggy handkerchief.  Tissues are portable as well as disposable. Nothing in the world is forcing you to ram your pointer finger all the way up to the second knuckle in an attempt to dig out what I can only assume is brain tissue.  It would appear from how far up you've gone, that you have far surpassed the nasal cavity as well as the sinus cavity. Why the hell is this necessary?  Do you just have more snot than the rest of us?  And even if you do, may I refer you back to that lovely invention from the 20s? Face it, where does the picked nose treasure go?  Hopefully, as an adult you've outgrown actually consuming the booger. Then where?  You guessed it, it gets flicked or rubbed off onto a surface I'm likely to touch!  Does anyone else feel like blowing chunks?
Moving on, I'd like to address YOU.  You know who you are. The nail biter.  Again, I'd like to hope that most adults have outgrown eating their own hand.  You have a multitude of choices if the length of your nails doesn't suit you.  The nail clipper is my personal favorite, only to be followed by my second favorite, the emery board.  These come in all shapes, sizes, colors...they can be simple little creatures made of cardboard, or seriously fancy bastards made of specialized plastic and outfitted with sparkly jewels made to live, when not used, in cushy little velveteen cases.  If you are not inclined to care for your own nails, visit your local nail salon.  Men, this includes you.  Shellac manicures or pink and white tips are not necessary, just a basic trim and file for you, buddy.  But please, stop gnawing on your nails.  The sound grates on me almost as badly as the sound of fingernails scraping down a blackboard.  The snapping thud when you've bitten through the nail is vile.  A vileness only slightly behind the disgust I feel while watching your unclean fingers in your mouth as you chew and suck and make all sorts of vomit-inducing noises.  Nervous habit, you claim?  Take up smoking!  I don't give a flying fuck. But do not stand in front of me eating your hands.  Chew gum.
But wait!  Don't crack that goddamn gum.  Popping and cracking with your mouth wide open only makes you look like a cheap hooker.  You know it, but you do it anyway.  These are the same people who can't seem to eat with their mouths closed.  It's a fucking disease, I swear.  That sound: the pop, smack, crack!  Christ on the cross, it's enough to send me running and screaming as far and as fast as I can away from you.  What is it about a small stick of chewable candy that turns some folks into dime-store streetwalkers? Especially when you are actually speaking to someone, it is incredibly bad form to toss that Bubble Yum around with your tongue, back and forth, side to side, cracking it loudly. But you do.  Fucker.
Follow my ADD for a moment.  When did it become socially acceptable to clip your nails in public?  Unless you are at the Vietnamese nail joint of your choosing, nail clipping is a private matter to be done within the confines of your home.  Never do I want to be impaled by a nail missile being shot off by some ass wipe who couldn't wait to get home to groom himself.  Foul and repulsive, that's what you are when you choose to tend to your personal hygiene in my presence.  This goes double for the tool that decides after clipping his gnarly fingernails, to move on to his yellowed, thickened, claw-like toenails.  Take your ass to the chiropodist, but keep those funky feet away from me and my airspace. Toenails almost always turn into dangerous projectiles when clipped.  Yet another reason to do it in the privacy of your own home.  Put your own fucking eye out, butt munch.

Do you know that women need to adjust their yabbos occasionally?  We do, and usually more so as we get older.  They tend to slip out of where we initially place them in our bras.  Yes, we actually reach right in there and hoist those puppies into place.  But, bitches that they are, eventually, they begin to slip down, requiring another hoist.  Yet, this doesn't mean you just dig right in and yank one back up in the middle of dinner.  I've seen all forms of fun bag rearranging in public and in broad daylight.  What the hell are you thinking, ladies? Neither the time nor the place for something so personal. While the rest of us may understand the need, we do not approve of the public handful you've just grabbed.  If we are offended by men scratching their nuts, and oh yes, we are...then we must also have that same disgust for women who do the tit flop just about anywhere they see fit. Almost as bad as publicly breastfeeding a toddler, but not quite.  Just don't.
It's not that I'm perfect, far from it.  I have habits that may drive you out of your skull.  Not that I care, but the possibility still exists. But I can say with all honesty that I try really hard not to crack my knuckles, squeeze out ingrown hairs, pluck my eyebrows, burp the alphabet, search for blackheads, or pick my teeth while you are standing there trying to have a conversation with me.  It's gross...are you friggin kidding me right now???