I have a lot of pet peeves.
I have so many pet peeves that I should have a peeve zoo. I spend a fortune on Peeve-kibble for all of these pet peeves. I am the Doctor Doolittle of pet peeves.
The fact is that I have the number of pet peeves a 90-year-old man could have. I might as well spend my days standing on my front porch, screaming at anyone who dares to touch my front lawn and hollering about the level that the neighbor kid’s pants often hang.