Zach Braff
I have an intense, visceral aversion to this man. Perhaps it is his contrivedly-impish facial expressions, or his over-gelled faux-floppy hair, or the accumulation of consonants at the ends of his names. Perhaps it is the fact that he made it impossible for me to listen to that Shins record after it had served as a pleasant reminder of the season I spent working as an electrician’s assistant in Western Massachusetts. Perhaps (no, definitely) it is all these things in combination.

A few years ago I tried to popularize the term ‘braffed,’ a word to indicate a situation that has been overwhelmed by irritating mediocrity. Example: “Argh! My boss rewrote my presentation and put three typos in it!” “Man, you got braffed.” It never caught on, but once I tested the Ruined Music email list software by sending myself a message that read “Test test, you got braffed,” and in a stroke of misfortune, sent the message to the entire list. I braffed myself!

Zooey Deschanel
I want to think I’m wrong on this. Maybe if I hung out with Zooey Deschanel we’d discover that we have sooooo much in common, and we’d run around the Lower East Side shopping for adorable vintage bracelets, and she’d convince me to cut my hair in thick chunky bangs, and then we’d drink kombucha and giggle and swing our purses as we skipped down the street and then a unicorn would fly overhead and vomit glittery stars and we’d hold hands and promise to be BFs for F. It’s possible.

Then again maybe not.

Conor Oberst
Hey Conor. Yeah, look, a lot of people didn’t like George W. Bush. Most of us were able to deal with this without resorting to tripe like “Does God suggest an oil hike when the president talks to God?,” but then again most of us are not bugeyed professional daydreamers in Prada suits. Aw, I’m sorry, did I hurt your feelings? Quick, someone get Conor an absorbent sweater, I think he’s going to cry.

Sandra Lee
I have seen this lady on television maybe three times in my life, on account of not having cable (move to Canada you goddamn commie), but three times was enough to convince me. Plus surely you’ve seen the mashup clips that are circulating on the internet, this one being the best/worst (pet peeve: ‘expresso’), via Salad & Candy:

***BONUS: A Person I Have Already Punched in a Bar***

Sufjan Stevens. Except it wasn’t in a bar, it was on the sidewalk outside a bar, and it wasn’t an angry punch, more like a friendly one. Also he was very drunk so I don’t think he felt it.