uh, wow. so i'm watching the local yokels on nbc in the desert (believe me, it's not exactly your cosmopolitain peacock network) and alice cooper just told me to register my car with the fine state of arizona while he was sitting in a golf cart. i'd say let that digest for a bit but it's really probably not going to because that right there is the grizzle of psa's. fortunately for this bastion of unbridled loathing for almost anything that is, was or will be, it got me thinking:
the desert fucking sucks. no, really. i mean, for cripe's sake not only can i not get any east coast ball games, but our damn local baseball team is terrible and their uniforms are turquoise and purple. ow, you guys, those are my goddamned retinas, so be easy on them with the hideous early 90's color palate. also, we're either 50th or 49th in the totem pole in terms of states giving money to education and the nation's capital for skin cancer. if you haven't been accosted by a panhandler, worked a soul-sucking data entry and/or call center gig or burned your hands on the steering wheel and your ass on the seat, then you have not been here long enough and should really leave before the place infects you. i'm not kidding. get out. why aren't you listening to me? fine. i'll break this out:
10 reasons to avoid the state of arizona like the plague
1. everything is pointy.
if it grows here, it has thorns or spikes or both. we've got a bevy of cactus and yes i know the plural is cacti but that looks dumb and people won't know what i'm talking about. anyway, we've got giant cactus the size of three linebackers ready to impale you with several-inch long daggers should it fall on you (and they do, with no notice), little cactus shaped like paddles which, okay, if you're into that sort of thing but holy god ow, creeping cactus, jumping cactus, jagged aloe vera plants the size of a ginourmous green bonfire, prickly grasses, hell even the fucking lemon trees poke. and we're not talking about easy prickles here either. we're talking 'oh my god it's three days later and i think a shard is still in my skin holy shit i'm going to die of inflammation and how humiliating is that, seriously?' type of spikes. nuke 'em all. and it's not just plants either. don't forget about bobcats, bears, mountain lions, and crazed birds of prey. all pointy with their sharp teeth of the meat-mangling persuasion. and if you think i'm lying, come live out here and i'll laugh at your tombstone later.
2. everything is poisonous.
okay, i should get a pants-shittingly shiny medal of honor or at least a girlscout badge of survival for making it two damn years in the desert without having a (venomous) run-in with a rattlesnake, black widow, brown recluse spider, gila monster, or scorpion. oh i've had run-ins with the fuckers, just thankfully while i was wearing shoes, except for all the times i've woken up and/or just gotten out of the shower and whoopdeefuckingdoo, there's a scorpion on the wall and/or floor and oh my god, die already you asshats. jesus, what are we paying the 4-times-a-year exterminator for? i'm sure it's not to flirt obnoxiously with me, which he does anyway but i'll consider that his tip for getting to spend time with yours truly. but honestly jackass- you missed a spot. and by spot i mean scorpion nest. and if they don't live in nests, i'm not apologizing for being wrong, because i have to deal with them and you don't. the end.
3. if it's not poisonous or sharp, it's just plain stupid.
this could be because the state of arizona cares so little about education that it seriously gives less than freaking any other state to education. yeah we're a red state, what do you expect? in any event, the people here have lounged out in the heat so long that aside from tanning their skin into rawhide and bleaching their hair into something straw would envy, they have fried their brains into puddles of cerebellar goo. this is the state where you hear such gems like "i seen", which as you hopefully know makes me feel like sacrificing a goat or ten to the god of grammar in hopes of cleaning the badness. also, you're likely to hear something like this:
az person #1: so i'm reading maya angelou and--
az person #2: ...who?
az person #1: ...'i know why the caged bird sings', ring a bell?
az person #2: wait...is it that painter guy? michaelangeno?
az person #1: ...sure.
az person #2: wait, he sings now?
editor (or lack thereof)'s note, these people were my amusing friends at a job i had some time ago. but it doesn't detract from the fact that arizona illegally depletes people's brain cells. by whole brains at a time, mind you. MIND. hahah yes i meant it.
4. the goddamn 'dry heat'.
well so's a fucking oven, but you don't stick your goshbedanged head in it. to wit, wasn't that how one of the sisters in the virgin suicides offed herself? yup, i'm pretty sure it was a head in the oven. by the way, the book was really good but the movie sucked hardcore. anyway, the heat is by all counts illegal, and anytime it gets above 100 degrees everyone should get free coupons for slurpees and/or a government financed move to the cooler coast, because it's a damn state of emergency when it's 114. jerks. who thought to colonize this place? the spaniards? i'll kill you bastards, all of you. after i have some fritata anyway. mmm. fritata. but yeah. when it's hot enough that you have to carry a separate stick of deoderant in your purse and if you accidentally leave it in your car for 5 minutes it's melted and gooey along with the seat, the styrofoam cup and your cds, well, then, that's just shittastic. but that's not all, we're giving away free heat exhaustion and dehydration packages every hour! oh god shoot me now.
5. mailbox vandals.
seriously- there's a roving band of kids, most likely meth-heads, who take it upon themselves to drive their car into mailboxes. and as a testament to how snappishly smart the good citizens of this state are, NOBODY HAS CAUGHT THEM YET, and they've been at it for two years, leaving car parts on lawns (and by lawn i mean carpet of disgusting brown desert grass and artfully placed boulders) and most probably fingerprints. isn't this mail fraud, or something? gah. not only have they obliterated my mailbox, but they've gone up and down nearly every street in my neighborhood and all the surrounding areas to do the same thing and jesus h christ, if you're going to do something that stupid, at least rob people while you're at it. but not me. i have important, valuable things. god, this state is so fucking idiotic. even the people wrecking things can't get it right.
6. bad drivers.
fuck off, arizona drivers. i say this as a carseat-to-steering wheel child of washington dc, bred on i95 and 66 and the beltway and alexandria and all that stopsigned, yellow-light exhaust-clogged jazz. what this means is i'm well versed in the trappings of rough driving. however, this goddamn desert and its vultures of automobilic transportation are a different breed. we've got the snowbirds (read: old-ish out-of-towners) who have no idea where they're going because blanche lost the directions and harriet can't find them and what street are we turning on to get to tiffany's and nine west? we've got maude and wilbur, the retirees who are so fucking goddamn decrepit that not only do they look like the crypt keeper's older cousins but they can't even fucking hold their head still in their driver's license shots and the guy behind the dmv (oh i'm sorry, in the desert it's the mvd, aka, we're mightily vast dumbfucks) counter shakes his head and almost doesn't give the geezers licenses but he's on break in 5 so what does he care. then we have crystal and amber, the college tards who drive over medians in their pink jeep and then have daddy wire the money for a new one when they have a drunken fender bender with maude while i'm trying to drive home from the movie theater, thank you. oh god you should all be forbidden from *touching* a steering wheel, and i don't care if it's on a go-kart. you all suck with your lane weaving and your median jumping and no turn signals and nascar turn-lane cut offs and your incessant need to drive either 15 or 98 miles an hour. jesus h christ on a pogo stick, i hope you get buried next to the guy from #1 so i can laugh at you all together for perpetuating such four-wheel douchebaggery. by the way, your cars are all ugly. try upgrading to something possibly made in the 90's.
7. there are no seasons.
okay there are two- livable and non. go read #4 again for a refresher on why the summer does not make it okay to live here. ever. and i don't care if you think 70 degrees in the 'winter' is great, because by the time you factor in all this other bullshit it's lame and wintery snowmen are fun. and the only snowman you can make in arizona is out of hostess snowballs, and they only sell the pink kind anway, and who wants a pink snowman? exactly. this state sucks. but i'll admit it is funny to see natives shiver when it dips below 70 degrees and pull on parkas and hats when it gets to 60. dumbfucks, way to break out the earmuffs when it gets to 55.
8. the rate of pay is stoopid.
unless you're an exec and/or have some sort of government job, don't expect to make more than $8 an hour. the end. exactly. there's a reason that rent is so cheap. and i fucking went to college. *throws up financial white flag* jesus, i mean, what? because it's hot you can pay people less? god, what assfuckers. but believe you me, i've had five jobs out here and not one has paid what a college grad should earn. and they wonder why arizona is such a cheap and retarded goddamn state, oh my god city hall i will set rabid howler monkeys to steal your collective spleens for being so cheap.
9. the water is full of calcium.
seriously. i can count on two hands the number of people i've known since coming out here who've fallen prey to kidney stones, gall baldder woes, gall stones, and other random calcifications of body parts that should remain squishy and never something i could skip in a river, such as one would exist here but doesn't because well, it's a fucking desert. honestly, just don't drink the goddamn water. and i hate paying for water, cheap bastard that i am, but even i swing the dollars for bottled water without effing goddamn rocks in it. shut up, sonora desert.
car theft, identity theft, general crap theft, soul theft- we've got them all in spades, yes we do. i think that should be arizona's new tourism grab- 'we're #1!....in theft.' actually recently we lost out to nevada on car theft and now we're only #2, but did i mention the identity theft, petty theft and theft of will to live? yeah. hence, suckage. not that i believe we have souls anyway but maybe they just left mine out of me and that's why i'm a heartless bastard. you know you love it. and i hope by now you hate arizona. join with me in the circle of hate. we chant like a prayer and/or meditation circle but instead of being all sappy and/or hippie about it, we burn calories via hatred. it's exercise!
okay. that's that. and now it's time to sleep and i swear to jebus on a crutch if i have to work tomorrow someone's tit is getting twisted off. and that's all she wrote. for now.