F-Zero GX is the only game so bad that I gave it away rather than selling it. Any money I had earned from the sale would have been tainted. Here, let's make an awesome racing game with like thirty goddamn characters... but you can only use four of them unless you can beat the single-player mode. And the single-player mode is made entirely of challenges like "Using the awkward-ass swerve button, kill all 25 enemy racers, who are all faster and heavier than you are, have infinite boost, and get a head-start. You have two minutes." It's bad enough when you have to unlock so much of the game's content, but at least make the hoops you have to jump through sane.
The rest of my gettin'-mad-at-games is really just a hobby (Fandom is fun! Part of that fun is hating things!), but F-Zero GX? That game can burn.
Deus Ex. Everybody said it was awesome, but then I started it up and the end of the tutorial consisted of trying to get across a moat while a robot that could see through walls shot your arms and legs off. Did you know that without arms and legs, you can't activate switches? I'm pretty sure there was a switch, anyway. I'm not positive; it sort of just dropped me in there and said "Try to get across!" A switch would have made sense. For me, Deus Ex is a permanent badge of shame on my record: the game where I couldn't even beat the tutorial; and for that, I resent it deeply. It gave me little hope that the main game would be somehow less inscrutable.
Deep in the mists of prehistory, I once played Donkey Kong 64. I will never get that time back.
I only bought Blueberry Garden as part of some package deal with some other things that looked worth a try. This was the only one that turned out not to be worth, at least, a try. It is a game about running/flying around an abstract environment touching objects while the area floods with deadly water; every time you touch one it gets added to a big pile and warps you back to the start, so you end up repeating yourself a lot. In practice, by the time you usually find a new area, it's already flooded. Melancholy notes tinkle on a piano all the while.
Finally, Windows Solitaire always traps the card that I need directly underneath the card for which I need it.