It infuriates me to be wrong when I know I'm right.
You are the one who gives me reason to wake in the mornings, who infuriates me, who enrages me, who enthralls me. You are my passion, my fury, my soul. Shall i explain further?
What infuriates me is that in America violence is judged in context, whereas language is not. So with language there is an arithmetic that says: one f*** is a PG 13, two f***s is an R. They don't say: one bullet through one head is a PG 13, two bullets through more than two heads is an R.