Sick Of Them, Yes.
Especially the random, unshaven 40-something stranger in the street. There are a lot of those about aren't there? Always ready with their unsolicited advice, and maybe a stack of Big Issues under one arm, just to try and jab you with the pointy end of the Guilt Stick. I had one such arsetard come up to me outside a pub where I had stepped out for a cigarette, and seemingly because I wasn't positively beaming with joy at having to stand in the rain for my smoke, I was apparently wallowing in self-indulgent misery. Well he proceeded to tell me his life story and without warning pulled up his shirt to reveal a wrinkly tattooed torso and the scar from when he carved his ex-girlfriend's name into his *lower* stomach.
Oh gee, well I sure am sorry now stranger, your life is MUCH worse than mine. Mainly because I'm not an alcoholic dickweed who hangs around pubs (not allowed in) giving people the creeps.
Normally though, it's just the usual passing "Smile, it might never happen!" - To which I say, it already ******* well has.