A/N: Made by the request of a continuance and I just like writing these gosh darn things! Well hopefully this doesn't flop and I don't have to remove it, that wouldn't be nice. However, I do appreciate some R&R here. It's hard to be snarky when you are writing Mark, ya know? But I tried to be somewhat funny. Please like it :)
Disclaimer: Own nada.
Note: I do have a horrible perm, that was not a lie. I am getting it fixed Friday. I look like Daphne Rubin-Vega on a bad day.

Yes, yes, it really is that Mark Cohen. Erm, see, my confidence only came from the fact that the girl with the bad perm is sitting beside me typing this. This is how it works: I mutter my way through a list and she neatly types it out. And her perm is horrible, she knows it and I know it. But that's not the point. In a nice Roger Davis-fashion I am creating a list of ten things I hate. And trust me, Mark Cohen does hate stuff. I'm not as cynical as Roger but you know…

10. Parents calling. Ugh. It's like we move out to get away from them and they don't know that's the reason why, but they feel the need to call every other hour. Jeeze.

9. Maureen Johnson. Well Roger had her on his list and I suppose I need her on mine. It's not like I hate her or anything. I mean….I guess…maybe I still love her. Maybe I do. So what. But she has a girlfriend. I guess that's the beauty of Mark/Maureen fics: we can pretend Joanne isn't really there….

8. Kool-Aid. I look like a Kool Aid kind of guy but I'm not! The stuff is full of sugar. The mother in me comes out and says "Just Say No to Kool Aid."

7. The Fall. Whoops, Roger hates that. Never mind. I actually love it because Roger hates it. Crunchy leaves, yes?

6. Double Negatives. Literally. Like you know when you take a picture and they give you two sets of negatives? I just need one! Triple negatives are even worse. The reason why I took up film instead of photography.

5. Contacts. Touching my eye is fairly disgusting. I had to stand at the mirror in ninth grade saying "Ew ew ew ew." every time I tried to put them in. Needless to say, I have stopped using contacts all together and have embraced my glasses.

4. Constant Guitar Playing. I can only listen to Musetta's Waltz so many times.

3. Depressed Roger. Sigh. Not a pretty sight. You know you have a depressed Roger on your hands when you get the parents calling, the Maureen Johnson constantly checking up on Depressed Roger to see if he's okay, Kool-Aid drinking all the time, fall-hating comments, double negatives (this time I don't mean the picture kind), comments about myself not wearing contacts and constant guitar playing. Whoa. Hey. Wait a minute. All this stuff actually leads up to depressed Roger…cool. Uh no. Not cool. Bad Marky.

2. Me/OC's. Okay. This grinds my gears. Just the term 'grinds my gears' actually grinds my gears, but anyway. No, I will not hook up with your fabricated character. As mentioned above, I might just kinda love Maureen a little. I agree with Roger on this one. Nanette Himmelfarb will not just happen to be in the neighborhood and stop by and ask to tango with me. Maybe I just made Nanette Himmelfarb on the spot, ever think of that? Trying to impress my ex-lover's lesbian girlfriend (wow that's a mouthful)! OH. And even if your crazy character was a filmmaker with matching glasses and a scarf I would STILL not hook up with her. I wear the scarf in this relationship! Not the girl whose parents got ran over by a truck when she was eight. Just because I'm the lonely one doesn't mean I need to be gettin' any. Mucho masturbation, as they say. So there. Good. Feels nice to get off my prepubescent-man's chest.

1. Jam. And I actually mean jam. Not, you know, "follow The Man/follow The Man/with his pockets full of the jam." –type jam. Even that isn't good. But ugh. Jam. It's just…horrid. My mother sent me jam sandwiches every freaking day from kindergarten to middle school. I would have to resort to eating crayons in kindergarten and trading my lunch with Roger (who loves jam) in middle school. It makes Mark Cohen mad.

Special mention: People knitting scarves to look like mine. While it's flattering, really, it's just sorta weird. It's my scarf, not yours! My mother made it for me! It's soft, believe me. It keeps me warm at night (NOT Roger, you Mark/Roger shippers) and it doesn't complain like Roger does (another reason why my scarf is better than Roger). It's a trusty piece of material. It's a part of me. You cannot have it.