Tantrum Warehouse
Tact Free Since 2003

Why Tanning is My Last Vice

I go tanning.

And before anyone shoots me an email telling me how bad it is for me and how I am killing my skin cells and blah blah blah, I stopped listening to you before you even started.

I don't care.

I don't care that it is bad for me. I don't care that I shouldn't buy into the raging media beauty myth. I don't care that I will be a wrinkled haggy shell of a woman in possibly a year and a half.

I have no vices left. I almost never drink. I haven't smoked in four years. I am married so I have sex that even God approves of. All I have left is the tanning booth and Coca-Cola. If I drank the caffeine-free kind they would let me be MORMON with those kinds of habits.

I love tanning. I love it and want to marry it and have toasty brown little babies with it.

I am pale. So pale that you can see through me. And I have very light blond hair. So basically I am all one color. Gee how pretty.

Tanning makes me look a lot better. You can tell the difference between my face and hair and that just improves everyone right there. And oddly, it makes you look thinner. And the UV light seems to improve my acne. Also, I find that lit up little coffin-booth strangely soothing. It is the only time during that day that I am not doing something. That I can just relax, I don't even listen to the radio anymore. I just lay down and think about random shit.

Like who does Joey Lawrence think he is kidding by calling himself Joseph and does he ever say "Whoa" when he is alone? Like in the shower or something?

I am always amazed how people will jump on you when they find out you tan. "Oh that is SO bad for you!!" they will scream in your ear. Fuck you. Are you my mother? Then you have no right to say shit about me.

Besides I stopped caring what was good for me so long ago. Everything is bad for you. As people in 2004 we are no longer allowed to do anything. EVERYTHING is bad. Food, sleep, sex, shitting too much, shitting not enough. You cannot win this war on ourselves people.

And don't tell me to use self-tanner. That stuff works great, but if you are like me you just want to get darker and darker and you apply that crap until you are so orange you don't dare go through the produce section. And no one tells you!! Not until one day you see a picture of yourself and say "I look like a goddamn Cheeto!" And they will say "oh you didn't know??"

If I had known would I have kept putting that crap on?

Friends don't let friends drive drunk. But friends shouldn't let friends walk around looking like a cheese snack either.

Plus that shit is never even and it smells weird and it makes my face break out.

So I prefer the tanning booth. I don't go every day. And not for so long. Just long enough to make myself look like I have the skin color most women have naturally.

We're even. You bitches spend a bajillion dollars a year trying to get my natural hair color.

8:35 a.m. :: comment ::
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