Dry Heat...Omg Stfu!

Temperature in Phoenix is supposed to be 118 today and 120 tomorrow. We are all gonna die people! Period.

I love when you talk to people that come to visit for a week in March (when it's 80 outside) and then they offer the good ol' "Oh, but it's a dry heat.".

I don't give a crap what kind of heat it is, 120 is ungodly! Secondly, come back in July and say that asshole! Yeah, not even mosquitoes are dumb enough to live here (do they even have brains? clearly they are higher functioning than humans or at least have better survival instincts). My oven emits dry heat as well, yet I never feel compelled to stick my noggin in it.

What does that even mean-dry heat!? My lungs have second degree burns all summer long?! Let's not forget the pool will be that comfortable fresh-urine temperature, mmmm so refreshing!

God hates AZ! I am certain. And which moron had a bright idea to inhabit the damn desert? And why am I so demented as to stay here? I think my brain evaporated throughout all the years I lived here, making me no longer capable of rational decisions. Waaaaaaaa!

Yet, we still have homeless! You know if you're homeless in AZ, there's something seriously wrong with you. There's no medication that will help your ill. California is a hitchhike away people!!!! 80's, beach, more sunshine (why am I still here?).

(On the bright side, my a/c went out in May, so I am covered through this summer :).)

Sensodyne Sucks!...Miracle Whip Too

This morning I noticed, I am out of toothpaste. No problem, I got travel size Sensodyne I got from my dentist last time I was there. Well, I brushed my teeth with it...I can assure you that baking soda tastes better (I've done that before, so I actually know). I mean wtf? You know why your teeth aren't sensitive? Cause they are not clean either. That layer of filth covering them acts as preventative layer from any sensitivity you may have to cold, hot, sweet, whatever. Freaking gross.

I am all about trying out new things, but when it comes to toothpaste give me my Colgate with all the flouride and minty artificial taste my body can handle.

***

Also, wtf is up with Miracle Whip? I stated before that I am from former Yugoslavia, where we have and love mayo. Yes, we eat mayo sandwiches....precisely, just bread and mayo and it is delicious (until I discovered my allergy to eggs, besides the point).

So when we moved to the USA, I set out on a little grocery shopping adventure. I spoke English...British English. See you put a word like miracle on the can and pardon me but I expect something fabulous...followed by the word whip...ummmm whip cream is the first thing that comes to mind. Yeah, do you see the logic behind my reasoning and where this train wreck is headed?!

Let me tell you, there is absolutely nothing miraculous about the vile substance contained in the jar of Miracle Whip. It's sour, like it's gone bad, with some sweet undertones, just plain disturbing. As for the whip part of it...I think they just wanted to fuck with us. I imagine that mod podge is more palatable. Who was the joker that invented that crap? And who buys it? Wtf is it anyhow? Sick.

Things I learned in San Francisco

So I recently took a trip to San Francisco. I have never been and since I was in a dire need to get the f... away from my life, I decided SF would be a swell choice. It's on the water and temperatures are in the 60's. Being that AZ is scorching hot this time of year, that's all I needed to make my decision.

First of let me tell you, you can tell a city by its homeless. I'll elaborate. Homeless in NYC have an agenda, they approach you with a freaking business deal "Hey lady, do you have a minute? Let me tell you..." Tell me what?! How to invest my money ensuring sufficient retirement funds? What?! You're gonna let me know the secret to getting rid of cellulite??? How to find a dream job? Eternal youth?  I mean these folks have an agenda and they are selling it.

Now Chicago....completely different. In your face, angry (must be the cold), zero regard for authority... they will chase you down for a buck. (No seriously, one time guy followed me for three blocks and then I decided to start running. I won.) They intimidate their prey and reap the benefits. Most times they even laugh at fear in the eyes of their victims.

San Francisco, well these folk are laid back, some of them even asleep by their money receptacle (wouldn't it be nice to fall asleep and wake up to money in your jar?). They are very casual in scoping out the potential and approaching only when certain of payoff. They do not drive a hard bargain. Weather is nice, most have a cup of coffee in front of them, some even use humor to lure donations like a guy at Fisherman's Wharf with a sign that read "Getting divorced, need money for a hitman."

Based on just homeless I will take Frisco over Chicago or New York any day. 

While I was there I was searching for a perfect meal (food is a driving force in my life. I know isn't it in everybody's...yeah, but I think of lunch before I even finished breakfast and most people I know do not do that. it is safe to say that I think of food 25 hours a day :).), I came up on this cool place called Fly in Hob Hill. On the menu they had a drink called Eastern European, that consisted of grass fed bison infused vodka and apple juice... Clearly, an Eastern European didn't come up with this. There are a few major flaws. First off who monitors the bison and makes sure they only consume grass and no bushes or tree particles. Also, bison isn't the first animal to come to mind when thinking of Eastern Europe...wild boar is more like it. Lastly, mix vodka with apple juice, WTH?! Generally, vodka is consumed before it's even cool, let alone are we gonna water it down with some damn juice. Seriously.

Final lesson from my trip... elderly wheelchair bound Asians have no fear (OK, who out there will label me racist...I am merely reporting what happened, so you can get your panties out of a bunch). While waiting at the crosswalk for my sign to turn, I was shoved aside by a gentlemen in a motorized wheelchair. First off, I wasn't even in his way...we weren't going the same direction. Secondly, he could've said "excuse me" and not just shove me into the oncoming traffic. Lastly, let's think about this situation this old man...you're already in the wheelchair, do you have a death wish...I can help put you out of your misery...SOB?! Old people ain't skerd, right?!

Vin Diesel and Dwayne Johnson The Rock Sandwich....mmmmm hell yes!

My supportive family...
Me texting my sister: "You know there's a new Vin Diesel/Rock movie out? I wanna go see it."
Her: "Yeah...Fast and Furious?! You know it'll be dumb, just bunch of cars and them running around."
Me: "I know, but who cares? It's The Rock and Vin Diesel!!!"
My Sister: "Ummm....you know Vin is gay and Rock is questionable they say."
Me: "I don't care! I'd love to be a pickle in that sandwich."
Her: "You can't be a pickle, they already have their own pickles...WTF?!"
Me: "I'm sorry dream killer...I wasn't aware you work for the "Squish a Wish Foundation"!"
Her: "You need to get your head checked!"

United Airlines Will Be The Slow Death of Me/Not a Fan of Kids

As I sit on the United plane, that was supposed to take off 2 hours ago, waiting for the mechanics to check the engine issues we have, after already being delayed twice due to weather...waaaa, three rows behind me there's a 2 yr old screaming bloody murded. While I cannot completely blame him,  cause at this point I feel like screaming too (beats the alternative of stabbing folk), I remember the following Facebook post:"You know what's more joyful than a sound of child's laughter?! Fucking silence of not having any children."
Omg, how this rings true right now...or are my ears just ringing from incessant ear piercing noise behind me...bedsides the point. 
This trip was supposed to be a vacation,  liberation from daily duties,  family. A great relaxing, solo adventure.  If it persists the way it's going so far, I can see myself on Channel 5 Breaking News and then doing 25 to life for murder. Arrrrgh!
Then again I can look at that as retirement planning...I think :).

Panhandling...Used Car Sales of the 21st Century

So the other day I am in front of Starbucks, meeting a friend, when a young approaches me, doesn't really look homeless, but more bored, into recreational drugs (not quite heroin haggard appearance, more of "I like to take extasy or trip on acid"-is that the same, I am drug ignorant; look) and looking for someone to chat with.
He says: "Soccer?"
Me: "I'm sorry what?"
Him: "Oh you just have such great leg muscle definition." Smile.
Me dumbfounded...WTH?! See my grandmother always thought me "if you can't say anything nice, do not say anything at all", but what am I supposed to say "I love your dilated pupils" or "I love how unfocused your gaze is...and the jitters...rad dude"...I mean seriously.
I just thanked him and went inside.

Same parking lot, an hour later...that's what happens when you work in the ghetto/drug infested area of Phoenix, another guy approaches, mid 30's, as drunk as Anthony Bourdain on his trip to Greece and he starts: "mmmm...fend...u...bit...doooo uuuu haff 45 cnts I mmmm haff?". Well you may not be offending me, but the alcoholic aroma about your body is burning my eyelashes and my hair off, and that ain't no easy task as I am one hairy beast. (May I just note it is 11 am ladies and gentlemen and 108 degrees outside.) Also kudos to you, my alcoholic cohabitant of mother Earth, on figuring out precisely what amount you're short of buying a 40 to continue your "spiritual" existence on this planet.
Me: "No thank you I am good."...I know that was not the answer to his question...do you think he was boggled by that, believe me he had bigger issues...like crossing the parking lot, breathing...

Finally, the third one, as I made my way to the store across the street, a young homeless guy, high as a kite, would've definitely benefited from some Visine. He pitches me his line: "Pardon me, would you happen to have any change?"
I am sorry, when the fuck did the panhandlers get so erudite..."Pardon me, change comes from within my friend, and you're welcome!" I replied and carried on.

Excuse me, I am not quite sure I could support a weed habit...hell, I can't even support my chocolate/coffee habit. What's next, you offer to invest my "spare" change for me...you got a business idea?! (Oh and don't worry I didn't come up with that clever response myself, I stole it from my friend Dan. He doesn't mind and I love it. I do however say "yes I have change, but it's not spare"...I'm sure, by now, others have adopted that saying...note to self, need to patent these things...or whatever it is you'd do with witty expressions :)). 

Bottom line, these people seem to be a lot more business savvy than I would ever be if I was panhandling. Believe you me, they have a plethora of options for your excuses of why you can't part with your riches, they start of high and eventually end up where you both can live with your decision...just like car shopping, numbers game...they will even wait for you to go use the ATM (oh yeah).

At times like these, me looking intimidating (what I am known for :)) is helpful...now I'd like to find out what benefit does a freakishly long torso have when you are not an Olympic Swimmer.

Born Again....Virgin

So you know how I quit drinking a while back?! I am not sure if I mentioned it, but I am way too lazy to read through my nineteen blogs to check. Anyhow...it's been about 2-3 years...no I am not one of those 2 years, 8 months, 16 days, 13 hours, 7 minutes and 53 seconds people. I just quit drinking...why? Well it was either driving or drinking...and I had to get to work to support my shopping habits, so naturally drinking had to go.

But you know what else I quit, when I quit drinking?! SEX...I quit having sex! Why?! Well, I could no longer drink my suitors interesting to sit through the date and make it to the good part. Dates! Hell, I can't even get a date anymore....that may have something to do with me being socially awkward and not knowing the rules of "the game".

My friends believe that I was born without the "flirt part" of my brain, since according to them I can never tell when someone is hitting on me. Following text interaction is proof apparently.

Me to my good guy friend: "A guy at the gym just told me he likes my hair...was he hitting on me?"

My friend: "You're a dork...yes! Guys don't notice hair."

Me: "Well, I am sorry but my hair looks awesome thanks to my fabulous hair dresser. Plus, I thought for a second perhaps he was gay."

My friend: "You are an idiot...and you'll be single forever. Way to blow it."

Be that as it may, and perhaps I am a bit slow when it comes to those things, but what kind of fucking opener was that??? No really, what was I supposed to say..."Oh you like my hair...great here's my phone number...let's do it." Men!