Grains of Salt
I Hate Vanity Fair
While renewing my New Yorker subscription a couple of months ago, magazine publishing giant Condé Nast offered me a deal that seemed too good to pass up: 12 issues of culture/fashion/politics magazine Vanity Fair for 12 dollars. That’s right — for the price of a taco a month I would have some of the world’s finest photography and writing delivered right to my doorstep. A Vanity Fair article, “The Man Who Knew Too Much”, served as the basis for the amazing Michael Mann film The Insider. So I thought “Why not?”
I Hate Fat Kids
I hate Fat Kids. I simply do. Fat kids and their parents. Normally, I’m not this vitriolic. In fact, I pride myself on being an even-tempered and well-centered individual with no strong likes or dislikes. But I absolutely despise fat kids and their parents. I used to be one. I was chubby as a child, and obese as a teenager. Even now, after years of dieting and exercise, I still have a gut that troubles me. I look better now, but that doesn’t lessen my ire. I could be a little more specific: I hate spoiled fat kids. I hate spoiled fat kids whose parents indulge their every whim. I hate spoiled fat kids whose parents indulge their every whim and are proud of it. Unfortunately, despite the specific nature of my hatred, I’m in a country that is chock full of them.
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