Confessions of a Bigot: S***er Hater

The Confederate flag. Gay marriage. Religion. Racism. It seems as though everyone wants to air their opinions regarding these matters on social media these days.


The problem is, billions of voices fill the void, citing facts, perceived truths, or flat-out lies. Thus, a single voice is not heard, and individual sound is lost in the cacophony.

Even after you’ve destroyed your vocal chords, the world keeps on turning. Life continues marching along, oblivious. Nothing you said regarding Obamacare or Caitlyn Jenner or the Confederate flag or the ruling of same-sex marriage equality will matter. And yet people still stand up and shout and start massive arguments and fan the burning embers of unrest inherent in humankind.

It feels much like high school melodrama, and it’s annoying as fuck.

However, I want to give this soapbox thing a try. I’ve decided to confess to a deep-seated hatred I’ve possessed since my youth. This is no easy task; admitting you are a bigot is difficult to do. But I must get this off my chest before it consumes me.

I’ve decided to tell the world I fucking hate summer.

Cue Coalescing Gasps!

The dog days of summer. The lazy days of summer. Happy days.

As soon as winter melts away, these phrases start cropping up in daily conversation. Every year, more and more people seem to hail the “oh-so-glorious” days of summer long before flowers and grasses have sprouted from their frozen slumber.

Me, on the other hand?

Fuck you, sun!

Fuck you, sun!

Your Reality

What’s so fucking great about summer? Here’s a small, non-exclusive list of what many vacuous-eyed summer-lovers claim they adore about this shitty season:

-Barbecues, family gatherings, and picnics

-Nature walks

-Baseball games

-Swilling beer in the back yard

-Swimming/outdoor watering holes

-Prolonged daylight

-Tanned skin

-Bleached hair

-Shirtless men and string bikinis

-Blasting loud music with the windows down



My Reality

That same list of reasons summer-lovin’ motherfuckers enjoy this balmy time of year is the reason I hate it. Not because these are horrible pastimes, but because it’s hypocritical to believe you can only enjoy these activities during the hottest fucking days of the year.

Allow me to break it down:

Barbecues, family gatherings, and picnics

Did you know you can barbecue, get together with family, and enjoy a picnic during the spring and fall too, when outdoor temps mimic average room temperatures and pesky buzzing pests aren’t quite ready to leave you riddled with red bumps?

Hmm. What a concept.

Nature walks

Sweaty balls, labia, and butt cracks will occur during nature outings regardless of the time of year. But you can avoid offensive odor, skin cancer, mosquitos, and extreme dehydration by hiking through the mountains during autumn. Unless you enjoy that life-sucking, suffocating summer humidity, of course.

Baseball games

The Great American Pastime: Watching fully-clothed humans play with balls and long wooden poles. (Or is that the definition of a bukkake? I can’t remember.) Fucking yawn-tastic.


Swilling beer in the back yard

Nothing says “Good times!” like drinking two dozen beers in 110-degree weather and never feeling a buzz because the humidity and heat suck the alcohol right out of the can, amirite?

Swimming/outdoor watering holes

Look at me splash in water! Look at my wrinkly skin! I love standing in piss-warm liquid! Speaking of piss, I also love the burning sensation of other people’s urine in my eyes!

Wait. What’s that smell? Is that chlorine, or did you just ejaculate all over my body again?

Prolonged daylight

Ah, the long days of summer. It’s even better when you work an early shift. Sunlight and the sweet sounds of childlike glee filtering through your window when you lie down to sleep are such gentle reminders of how lame your social life is.

Tanned skin

Who wants skin cancer?

I do, I do!

I do, I do!

Bleached hair

Hey, some of us are bald, okay? This is just an insensitive peacock strut if you ask me. Hair-havin’-ass motherfuckers.

Shirtless men and string bikinis

Gawking at flawless human bodies is all fun and boners until some hairy dude obstructs your view with his less-than-stellar banana hammock and cellulite-ridden ass cheeks.


Blasting loud music with the windows down

Because you can’t do this any other time of year, right?


Kids out of school for summer? Awesome! Now you can spend more money on daycare! And we all know it’s impossible to vacation during any other season because “vacation” means “sweat all fucking day even while standing still” in Swahili.


Because you definitely can’t get away with them any other time of year. I mean, cops don’t come out during the summer at all. Especially in college towns.


I prefer spring flowers and rain showers, crisp autumn smells and faded foliage, the sharp sting of pelting icy drizzle and bone-deep chills of winter. You may prefer skin cancer and soggy skin and gawking at banana hammocks.

We don’t have to share the same viewpoint, and that’s all right.

Random Wrap-Up

Opinions—especially ones about mundane topics such as seasonal preference—don’t really mean shit in the grand scheme of things. They never will. Perhaps they matter to your friends and family and coworkers and strangers on social media…


…but they don’t matter to the whole of society.

If humanity were of a collective mind, they might. But let’s face it: Humanity will never become a collective mind on any topic. Even if some fucked-up amorphous aliens took over the world and subjugated its entire population, or zombies or vampires or any other monster of lore rose from the depths of fiction into reality, humans will never agree—as a whole—on anything.

Isn’t that the true beauty of being a human, though?

Oh, and one last thing:


(You may now commence with the “Summer-hater!” slurs.)

Stay tuned. There’s more randomosity coming soon.


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