Clayton's LV/H8 of the Week ( / Season)

 I admit, it's been a minute or two since I posted a LV/ H8 blog. Sometimes it's difficult to put into words just how much I hate humanity; things that seem simple like driving to work, waiting in line at the grocery store, or taking out the trash spark my ire and ought to ignite a plethora of blog posts, but the rage spreads from my overwrought brain to my eyes and, Cyclops-style, sears all thought and motivation from my mind. Then I hear a song I love on the radio and forget about what it was I hated and the blog never gets written. Welcome to my daily life.


 HATE #1: Bumper stickers.

After this picture I take back that entire paragraph.

   A week or two ago while going through the daily tragedy of driving, I encountered a middle-aged Jeepish contraption (I'm terrible with car identification) with a daring bumper sticker. In an attempt to get a ticket for following too closely, in the vein of a dear former roommate, I sped ahead and craned my neck to read the sticker. "Fear the Government that Fears Your Gun," it read. Now, I realize that I live in Georgia, but are we being serious right now? The quotation is trite and stupid enough to begin with, regardless of one's opinion on gun control, but to put that idiotic statement on a car reaches untold levels of ignorance. It made me realize that I don't fully understand the concept of bumper stickers. Are cars anonymous enough that we feel safe spouting our narrow opinions without fear of having to defend them? Is it a pussified way of voicing ourselves? Do we buy bumper stickers because our bumpers are too unadorned without them? I don't know. I don't care. I just hate.



 Hate #2: "Young man."
  Obviously a dichotomy exists between generations, especially when generations are distanced from each other to the point that one generation was raised in the Depression and another existing generation was raised on Madonna. As youth, we have been taught to respect our elders (though each generation seems to learn this less and less). As elders, I don't know if we're taught to give respect to younger generations, because I've never had the benefit of being an elder. I admit that I don't always show the deference to elders that I ought. It seems that almost every time I make an effort, though, I get the ironic response of being called "young man." Okay, people of the world, listen up. I am 23 years old. I've lived in four decades, graduated from college, paid my car insurance, watched R-rated films, signed rental agreements, kissed vampires, and done other grown up things. Obviously I am younger than your condescending self, but I am old enough to realize this without you constantly reminding me. It would be rude of me to call you "old man," so don't tempt me (Frodo!) to do it. Besides, why even call me anything? It's always fine to say "Hi ^_^" or "HEY YOU," or, ya' know, call me by my GOD-GIVEN AMERICAN CITIZEN NAME.

Hate #3: 100-Calorie Anything.

I promise this is real.

Since America is fatter than every third world country combined, there has been a push in the past few years towards consuming less (I won't even begin to rant about what a misguided and lazy response this is to the very real problem of national obesity). This Law of Lessened Consumption materializes in what I have dubbed The Religion of A Hundred Calories. Is your favorite snack sweet, unhealthy, and full of sugars, yet the portion is small enough to be just a hundred calories? EAT UP! Have you already eaten a huge fast food lunch (with a Diet Coke) but crave more, and that apple just isn't enticing? A handful of carb-ingested crackers are only a hundred calories so toss that apple out! The concept is dumb and lazy, but if by some stroke of illogical fortune it does save our nation from the danger of obesity, we'll die of pollution instead! 100 calorie snacks essentially are a big bag of the same snack that has been repackaged into dozens of smaller bags for people with no self-control. Instead of littering my beautiful neighborhood with one box of Cheez-Its, you're not littering my once-beautiful neighborhood with fourteen bags of Cheez-Its (and the box it comes in). But thank goodness it was only 100 calories!



That Thing I Love: *Natural* Tanning.

 Now that it's May, the Georgia heat has hit the upward swing. This, compounded with my early morning work schedule, has given me the benefit of being able to lie in the sun and tan on the occasional days I get off on time. Most years I tan only at the beach and just lie out throughout the entire vacation and burn myself to the point where, once the red fades into a tan, I manage to be tan for about three weeks. This year I've been taking advantage of friends' sisters' apartments' pools, beach weekends, and backyards to soak in the sun and turn a delicious shade of... tan. And honestly, though a lot of it is about getting rid of the pale white skin I wear throughout the winter, the part I most love about tanning is the act itself. Lying and soaking in the sun, only to bleed it back out through my too-huge pores in noxious sweat, is one of the most empowering feelings known to mankind. It makes me feel like a part of nature itself, going through a cyclical motion of soaking and emitting, all with the added benefit of making myself implausibly more beautiful. Tanning - it's just something I love.