#18 I Hate White Trash

Growing up in a big, diverse city like Chicago, one would think I would not have much experience with white trash.  Unfortunately, this is not the case.  Chicago is only one of the many places I have been which is crawling with serious trash.  Take the south side for instance, and their love of the Chicago White Sox.  While some may call me a Joanie, I still believe it does not get any worse than this. U.S. Cellular is jam packed with jean shorts, tattoos, beaters, and trashiest of all, the Purdy family (joke).  There should really just be a direct trolley running Sox fans from the field to their other home away from home, Great America.  While a ride on Batman once in awhile can be a thrilling adventure, I'm generally straight off of waiting in line with airbrushed t-shirt wearing couples smoking cigs and reeking of garbage.

I also had the opportunity to spend 2 years at the lovely University of Illinois, where I not only furthered my education in English, but learned more about the trash of the Land of Lincoln. Dark roots, Aeropostale gear, and humongous hoop earrings surrounded me on my daily walks to and from the quad (Side note on big hoop earrings, I once told an unnamed Evanston trashmobile that I could stick my fist through her hoop and she never spoke to me again). Anyway, I obviously had to get out of this place.

Unfortunately, the trash could once again not be escaped on my spring break trip to Acapulco where I learned about East Coast trash.  Sometimes, I think this may be the worst kind because a lot of these people actually have money, I guess they just choose to spend it on special types of all day hold hair gel, and labels which they can flaunt to show off their wealth.  You can hear and see these people from miles away, and thanks to them, and the man who attempted to roofie me at Palladium (I stand by my story), I will not be returning to Acapulco any time soon.

And then there are my frequent visits to L.A. where half my family lives.  Driving down the glamorous Ventura Blvd., one may have the pleasure of seeing a lady of the night, dudes with their pants down to their ankles, and joutfits galore.  There's also Disneyland and if you think Great America is bad, try Six Flags Magic Mountain.  

And it's not just the U.S.  My favorite kind of trash, Eurotrash, runs rampant through an entire continent, and often pollutes our country as well.  I mean, we have enough of a garbage problem, not knowing where to put it and all, we don't need other countries sending over theirs as well.