Parched

I have recently become quite addicted to Powerade Zero. But only the red ones. You know, fruit punch. It’s a nice replacement for sugar-laden soda (although I will still drink one on occasion) and provides a pleasant change from the gallons of water I consume daily.

As far as the zeros go, it is available in orange, grape, and blue mixed berry. Yuck. Yuck. Super Yuck. And, of course, the red fruit punch. While I have no problem whatsoever finding my beloved beverage in the 32-ounce size (and, I might add heavily discounted thanks to grocery store sales), trying to find the eight-pack of 20-ounce bottles is even more difficult than trying to locate a needle in a haystack, a four-leaf clover in a field, or your contact lenses on casino carpet.

And before you think it, just don’t. Gatorade is gross. Truly repugnant.

I have looked high and low, in numerous Albertsons, Smith’s, and Vons, and in several Walmarts and Targets to no avail. Oh sure, the disgusting blue ones are everywhere. In fact, in many retail outlets, there’s not even a space on the shelves for the fruit punch ones. Regular fruit punch is abundant but not the zero ones. Why is that, Coca Cola? Why is this item so damn difficult to find? I’ve even asked grocery managers to order it, which, apparently, they can’t, or, more accurately, won’t. Pfft.

Yes, I know I can order it on Amazon and have it delivered like some antisocial shut-in who can’t grocery shop for herself. But that’s beside the point even though I may be just a skosh antisocial. Just a skosh, mind you. But I enjoy grocery shopping. I particularly relish playing “Stump the Checker” with some uncommon produce item that very few people purchase such as fennel, rutabagas, or parsnips which force the person ringing me up to ask what it is. Sometimes, when I’m feeling really obnoxious, I memorize the item’s number and provide that to the cashier.

Well, I’m off to order 12 family packs of Powerade Zero fruit punch from Amazon. Until next time.

Jingle This

I already don’t like this time of year. For one, it’s far too commercial, and it seems as though every year we are inundated with holiday decor and advertisements that inform the brainwashed masses who think they must buy their spouse a Lexus and their kids the latest and greatest popular toy (that will, undoubtedly, break after a week) earlier and earlier. This year, I saw a bunch of holiday, crap, er stuff out before Halloween. Call me crazy (everyone else does), but that’s far too early. It’s almost akin to seeing Valentine’s Day (yet another high-dollar “holiday”) stuff at Christmastime.

Anyway, in addition to the obnoxious advertisements (that entice people to spend exorbitant amounts of money purchasing gifts for ungrateful family members and lukewarm friends who they only see, oh, twice per year and who aren’t going to like whatever they get anyway), the epileptic seizure inducing holiday lights, the annoying and overplayed music, and the overcrowded stores, I am also not a fan of holiday smells.

Smells, you may ask, what smells? Now, I’m not talking smells like unbathed rednecks swarming the crowded aisles at Walmart who reek of cigarettes, cheap beer, and pork rinds. I’m referring specifically to the nauseating smell of cinnamon. Cinnamon everything: candles, air fresheners, ornaments, the whole shebang. I absolutely despise the smell of cinnamon. I’m okay with freshly baked desserts such as cinnamon rolls. It’s the disgusting, artificial, vomit-inducing stench of the fake shit that seems to permeate the atmosphere with a blanket of fetid foulness covering the Earth and offending my olfactory system.

Now, in addition to the aforementioned holiday annoyances, perhaps the most offensive are those annoying-as-fuck Salvation Army bell ringers who swarm the entrances to every possible place I need to go (grocery store, anyone) with their irritating and relentless clamor. Case in point, I was at Walmart yesterday (big mistake, big, HUGE) buying a toilet seat, Swiffer dusters, Kleenex, melatonin, and oatmeal because that’s what Walmart is for. After navigating the malodorous aisles, I was a bit annoyed (okay, a lot annoyed) by the time I left the store. Not only did I feel like a salmon trying to exit the store fighting the swarms of festive folks with zero spatial awareness, there was an annoying woman ringing her bell so as to proclaim her holiday festivity for the entire state of Nevada to hear, who decided that singing Jingle Bells at the top of her lungs was an appropriate endeavor. Let me tell you, it wasn’t. After my malevolent glare failed to explode her head a la Scanners, it took everything my loving supportive boyfriend who has the patience of a saint had to keep me from shoving her Godforsaken bell down her throat. What about Silent Night, huh?

Happy Holidays everyone!

Gridlocked

I’ve been on a tear lately with respect to moronic drivers who either don’t know traffic laws, don’t care about them, are too egomaniacal to realize that the law applies to them, or are just too stupid. Lately, my money is on stupid.

Today’s rant is about those motorists who like to block intersections because they can’t wait the five or so minutes for the green light to come back around to them. No, they’re too impatient and/or too stupid and, apparently, don’t mind blocking a major, traffic light-controlled intersection and preventing other motorists from going on their merry little way.

Lately, I’ve had more than my share of stress at the hands of these morons. I have had to sit at a red light for multiple cycles simply because the intersection is blocked when I have the right-of-way. Further, when I arrive at or leave work, I have to wait to turn at a traffic signal; however, more often than not, I am neither able to enter nor exit the parking garage because of idiots blocking my way.

According to Nevada law (NRS 484B.450), “1. A person shall not stop, stand or park a vehicle, except when necessary to avoid conflict with other traffic or in compliance with law or the directions of a police officer or official traffic-control device, in any of the following places: … (c) Within an intersection ….

Now, that’s pretty damn clear, don’t you think?

I started taking photos of these motorists’ vehicles and forwarding them to a cop friend of mine. Karma is, indeed, a bitch,

Welcome to the Jungle

Have you ever noticed that people tend to walk the same way they drive? Here in Las Vegas, the land where nobody can drive worth a shit, I find myself the victim of tailgaters, those who drive without lights at night, texting drivers who almost cause accidents, speed demons who weave in and out of traffic only to get to the traffic signal before anyone else (was it worth it?!), ridiculously loud bass music emanating from a vehicle that makes my windows vibrate and my bladder, oh well, never mind about that, and folks who block intersections just so they don’t have to wait through a red light. It’s so frustrating and annoying.

Lately, however, I have increasingly noticed that people display the same lack of awareness whilst walking, especially in casinos. There are those who are texting while ambling around, oblivious to what or who is around them. Then there are those who stop suddenly while I am walking behind them. Others are speed-walking without any care of who or what they may run into. Some are talking on their phones loudly enough that one cannot help but eavesdrop. And, of course, smokers make this worse because not only do I have to navigate throngs of bodies but also have to keep an eye out for lit cigarettes; something else of which folks tend to be unaware. And why are people still smoking? It’s disgusting, unhealthy, and physically distressing for those of us with smoke sensitivities/allergies.

I tell ya, the more I’m around people, the less I want to be around people. Especially in close quarters.

Peace out.

It’s that Little Stick on the Left

Oh good grief. People can be so clueless, inconsiderate, and lazy, and nowhere is this more evident than while driving. It is ridiculous how many motorists fail to comprehend simple traffic laws or, even worse, blatantly disregard them.

I’ve already discussed those who drive with their lights off at night, but that is merely the tip of the iceberg when it comes to bad drivers. Another huge problem is the failure to use a turn signal.

You see, not everyone is a mind reader and, therefore is unable to glean others’ intentions. Instead, most quasi-normal people (like me) only see offensive drivers who are either spatially unaware or blatantly rude cutting us off. Seriously, how difficult is it to click that turn signal to broadcast your intentions to others?

Relatedly, those motorists who fail to let someone in front of them is also an irritant. In cities where there is beaucoup traffic (like Las Vegas), those of us who do, in fact, use our turn signals regularly will signal and then wait for what seems like an eternity for someone to let us in front of him/her.

So, hey, rude motorists: Will letting a car get in front of you prevent your arrival or seriously impede your driving time to your destination? Is speeding up to close any mergeable area or tailgating the vehicle in front of you going to improve your commute? Are you that much of a miserable, discontent person who can’t, for just one second, put yourself in someone else’s position and think, “Gee, this driver needs to move over here and is being courteous enough to signal, so maybe I should let him/her in.” Sadly, more often than not, the answer to these questions is a resounding, “No.”

On a side note, signal before you turn or merge. Don’t use your turn signal as you are turning or merging. It defeats the purpose.

Lights, Cam…, er Lights, Lights, LIGHTS!

I swear, I have never seen so many cars at night driving down the road with their lights off. Granted, Las Vegas is quite illuminated after dark with neon lighting ad nauseum; however, this does not give you clueless and inattentive motorists the right to drive down a busy street without lights.

Now, as the good Samaritan I am who does a daily good deed and tries to flood the universe with good karma (to make up for this blog, apparently), I try to inform you, as nicely as possible, of course, that your lights are off. Whether I flash my high beams into your rear window, cut you off and turn my lights on and off, or try to get you to roll your window down at a stoplight, more often than not, you are beyond clueless.

Frankly, I don’t understand how you can get in your car at night and not notice your lights aren’t on. Seriously. Get off your damn phone and pay attention.