A/N: So on my day off of writing exams, the idea came to me in the shower which, coincidently, most of my fic ideas do. I'm in a bit of a Roger Davis mood and I figured compiling a top ten list of things Roger hates would be a nice idea. Enjoy and please R&R. It's all tongue and cheek, y'know.
Disclaimer: Pfft. Please.
Side note: Number one...that is where my tongue in cheek is,really. Roger doesn't hate Mark. Just hates that everybody loves him. Hell, I LOVE Mark. Roger just is always second best, it seems. 'Tis a joke!

Hello, I am that emo-loveable-guitar-toting-music-loving rocker that normal people and fangirls alike seem to love. I have that grumpy, sarcastic, fun-loving, The Man-hating charisma we all seem to enjoy. However, it seems that people think that I am immune to any dislikes of sorts. How completely wrong is that, you ask? Well. It's absolutely completely wrong. So with the help of my author lady friend Samantha, I have created a top ten list of things I absolutely and completely hate. 'Absolutely' and 'completely' are my two favourite words to use together, if you haven't noticed. On with the list.

10 Things Roger Davis Hates.

10. Maureen Johnson. Yes, everybody's favourite bisexual. The loud, drama queen, cow-loving woman. But once you live in the same friggen loft as she does for about two weeks, you develop the anger that only serial killers have. Not only did she eat ALL of my food, the food with MY name it, hence it being MY food; she also found a way to annoy the living crap out of me. Every. Single. Day.

9. Lime Jell-O. Disgusting. How such a thing can exist, I don't even know. However, if the Jell-O is in a big wrestling ring and two scantily-clad women are in it, then that is fine with me. But don't tell Mimi….

8. Mark/Roger pairing. Ah. Once again, how can such a thing exist with dignity? I'm all for gay people, I mean, man, half my friends are gay! But myself, however, I am straight. Straight straight straight straight straight. I love women. All women. Not Mark. Even though he does have his girly side, it does not account or add up (or something) to him being a woman. Or a cross dresser. Or whatever.

7. My dad's double chin. Ugh. It does not need any further explanation.

6. Cheese. Cheese pizza is a wonderful thing. It really is. But a single, moldy, crumbling, lonesome brick of cheese? Dude. Please. Cheese is for mice, not Roger Davis.

5. RoDger DaviD. Sigh. 'Tis not my name. So many times in public school it seemed the teachers could not get the name straight. Roger, no D. Davis, no D. It sounds like a porn star name.

4. Grilled cheese sandwiches. Maybe I have listed cheese too many times, but the mere thought of that melted cheese on the stale bread we have in our kitchen makes me want to kill pandas. Or something.

3. OC's. ARGH. I don't care for them. No, I will never move on from Mimi, nor will I ever even THINK of moving on from Mimi. I don't care if she's named after your lesbian stepsister's ex-girlfriend's daughter's neighbor. Or her parents died in a freak car accident and then they were both mulled by a pack of hyenas and your sister was left to take care of you but she ran away and joined the army disguised as a man. Mark won't fall in love with her. I won't fall in love with her. MAUREEN won't even fall in love with her. Geeze.

2. The Man. Original name much?

1. Mark Cohen. Mark Mark Mark. Everybody loves MARK. YES. He wears an adorable scarf. Yes, he films everything. Yes, he is the lonely one. Yes, he has glasses. For Christ sake, yes, he can dance on tables and tango. But my LORD. He isn't all that GREAT. He whines and complains and talks my freaking ear off. Mark Cohen isn't the best thing on this earth. He isn't. Sure sure sure, he's my "best friend" and yes, Mark and Roger friendship is wonderful, mainly because I'm apart of it, but Mark Cohen never created a tree. Planted one, yes. But never created one.

Special mention: Fangirls. Why, yes, I have many of them. And when I say many, I mean many. They like to stalk me, create fanclubs about me, buy "I'm a Roger" t-shirts, love me, worship me, try to play Muzetta's Waltz JUST BECAUSE I can play it, or their dream of becoming a rock star is because of me, but my God. It's a little scary thinking that millions of pre-pubescent girls are screaming my name at night. However, it is a little flattering. Just a little. Like I'm the Beatles and I have groupies. So maybe fangirls are on my "I Have Not Decided If I like It or Not" list. Will that list ever be available to the public? Well, we'll just have to see…