friday five, paris-ite week.

top five people the world could do without:

1. paris hilton (it's a love/hate thing with her)

2. mariah carey

3. george dubya

4. bill o'reilly

5. the desperate housewives

to key or not to key....

someone recently asked how one goes about obtaining a key to my humble abode. let me share that knowledge with all of you. first and foremost, your having a precious copy of my key must benefit me somehow, typically those who hold the key let daisy out for me. i can foresee myself being persuaded into giving my key away for the following reasons:

-if you promise to leave me treats or presents.
-if you have recently gone shopping at the liquor store and want to leave some juice for me.
-if you are planning on cleaning or doing laundry, my laundry.
-if you are going to organize my closet OR build me something to house all my shoes.
-if you are going to run me a tubby.
-if you are going to take daisy for a walk or an outing of any kind, not the pound.
-did i mention leaving me presents???

i’d also like a background check, unless you are related. and yes, that's my real key, cute i know!

"target"ed market, b-b-b-bingo!

it's like those kind folks at target put things on clearance just for me--hello kitty, hello pink, hello sarah! ! now, i can listen to npr in the bathroom without driving my neighbors crazy. my not so inner child is currently dancing around my apartment getting ready for a tubby!

the self-deprecating narcissist!

i have no idea how it happened. it just did. i confused these two:
dwight yoakum and lyle lovett. they do have a few similarities; bad hair, rumored musical talent. dwight will be at the depot friday night, without me, had he been lyle lovett i would have been there. sad, because i was really looking forward to it. i even had a master plan. i was going to have a "friend" who works there sneak me in. my outfit was planned and everything. yes, it included a ski mask. damn. i'm retarded.

anyway. justin, i forgive you for laughing at me.

blasphemous-sis

phrases ben refuses to acknowledge:

i'm gonna blog that!
does this matchy match match?
if i accidentally forget to come home tonight, will you let daisy out in the morning?

if any of these are uttered from my mouth, he instantly stops listening. brothers can be so very annoying. if it weren't for the garbage removal and heavy box lifting, i would repeat above phrases over and over until he curls into a ball and cries for our mommy.

i've been banned from his apartment tonight for asking him if my pink vest and pink purse are too matchy match match. well, maybe there is something i am forgetting to mention. i walked in telling him just how hot my ass looks in my new jeans, when i realized there were others there. and not just any others. home teachers.

wait wait, there's more. last sunday i noticed he wasn't leaving for church. being the concerned big sister that i am, i went over to remind him (fine, i wanted to watch a movie over there). he was upstairs so i yelled to ask him if he was going to church. "no, i'm going to get some lunch instead". being me, i yelled back that he should stop choosing food over god. it was then i heard a nervous girl giggle. a real one, not the ben girl giggle (ak can back me up on that). why is it that i always manage to offend his friends?

there really ought to be a signal. not just for when they have girls over, but practicing mormons. if he is excommunicated soon, i will take all blame.....proudly.

pathetic sarah-facts 1-5

as someone pointed out to me last week; i don't have "means for fire" in my place. no lighter. no matches. nothing.

i am 30 (eek!) and don't currently own matching dishes, wine glasses, or for that matter have any matching glassware except the recently purchased martini glasses in my place.

unlike every woman i know, i don't have "skinny jeans". i do, however, own a pair of fat jeans.

i desperately need to get a new nose ring (the pretty pink jewel fell out), or rid my nose of one altogether. i am a giant baby and don't want to go have someone torture me alone, jen isn't here to hold my hand this time.

i miss sleeping next to someone, it just isn't the same when there is no one to battle it out for the good pillow.

clive "i'd like to have you inside me, man" owen.

i spent time with the man behind the hot buns of steel, denzel washington. he and i aren't on the best terms, i haven't forgiven him for playing that dirty bastard cop in training day. it's been five years and i still hold it against him, now that is very powerful acting. so obviously, i don't refute his acting skills for a second, but i can't move past that damn character he played.

anyhoooo, a cute boy took me to see inside man today. i didn't have high expectations but it was a must see because clive owen was in it, i love me a hot brit! i only looked at my watch once, that is the best way to determine entertainment level, and the glance was only to determine bathroom time. when i ran (and i mean ran) out, a lady followed suit. as we ran, she looked over and asked inside man? funny. would have been even funnier had she washed her hands. i'm a germ freak, so i was totally grossed out. i can just see pmk laughing as he read that part. i would feel badly, but i don't, he knows why.

the movie was good, the boy was good, and for the record i still can't stand denzel.

my secret life as a middle-aged male republican.

i'm without a car for the next two weeks. alex was kind enough to lend me his jeep this week.

it was then i realized, i am every small town boys dream!

you might be wondering how i know this. easy. when you have multiple truck drivers whistle at you in the same day, you just assume things.

thanks for the beefy ride alex!

friday five, die winter die!!

i'm sick and tired of winter. just when i think the powers that be are cutting us a break and spring weather is here, it snows. i want summer, therefore i need spring. to have spring, winter needs to be over. do you here me?? O-V-E-R!
with that, i bring you my top five reasons why winter should die:

1-snow, snow, and snow!
2-freezing for months. this includes daily thermostat fights with gg-top.
3-soggy pant bottoms, you see those girls with wet jeans to their shins, ME, and what's even worse is when they do finally dry and you have stiff salt jeans. gross!
4-trying to convince my dog there is no snow, so she will go out in the mornings. comical, but it gets old fast.
5-winter dry skin, ugly and painful.

so all you snowboarding and skiing freaks, i want your "fun" season to end, if only for the sake of my sanity.....and jeans!

diamond OR the rough (guest blog)

i break up with my friends, often. today i broke up with tim. certain life choices should be discussed over nozzle filled chai's, not via guest blogs! don't worry, i can easily be persuaded to reconsider. soy americano, for life. i'm losing a best friend, the least you could do is caffeinate me for life.

with that, i bring you tim's guest blog, or guest novel. grab a cup of coffee, tivo your evening shows, settle in, and give it a read.

ps. i was horrified as the blog suggests, and furthermore the ring sucks!

reason # 75 why i like sbux:

those who know me can attest to the fact i rarely blush. today i did. and blushing is a nice change over the "i made out with a steering wheel" bruising. thanks to my favorite shaggy sbux boy, rory!

if only you were a couple years older, sigh....

sir, i'm sorry i just tried to kill you.

i got into a car wreck tonight, sadly, neither boyfriend came to my rescue.
it's my fault, not only for smashing into the back of a jeep, but for bringing the wreck on. a couple weeks ago i was whining about my rising car insurance costs, and stupidly said it sucks that i pay all this money and never actually use it.

the powers that be heard me.

i learned the importance of seatbelts and traveling with a real coat. oh, and NEVER exchange your information before the police arrive (even if they do take an hour to get there), it instantly turns to a civil matter. just so you know.

that's life. you win some, you lose some, and then you wreck some.

daily fruits and veggies.

i'm not sure which was more exciting today; purchasing pink ankle boots, or having the people next to me at coffee wearing finger puppets. you never see a good finger puppet in public anymore. it's a shame really.

a "friend" and i went to the cocoa cafe today for some good chocolatey coffee. it was my first time at this particular java joint. velvet underground playing in the background, and i knew it was going to be good. carrot-top look alike, puppeteers, and the apple twins guaranteed a return.

i'll lie and say it's for the coffee, but rest assured it's for the patrons.

unhappily ever after...

a few green beers later, and one green tongue hotter, i'm almost ready to forgive sue for stealing all my boyfriends. in the interest of safety, we took ben. it's nice having a built in designated driver at all times. everyone should have a mormon brother. they're fantastic. they can pray for you and drive your drunk ass home.

saraimee was in full force. we're preparing for the summer games. drinks, claritin, and pretty shoes. i only hope carmen and co. are ready.

advice to all married women who have husbands in bars: insist they either wear a ring, or wear you.

happy st. patty's day!

Ingredients:

2Part(s)Vanilla Vodka

2Part(s)Apple Pucker

3Part(s)Pineapple Juice

Instructions:
Mix all ingredients into shaker with ice. Shake firmly. Strain into Martini glass.

green beer is over-rated, granted it's tasty, but green-tini's are for the fabulous! who needs fake irish pubs when you can have the electric six concert with your gal-pals?

the snozzberries taste like snozzberries, and the pills taste like candy!

Police in Utah warn parents about a possible case of food tampering after a child ingests a painkiller that may have been hidden in a popular candy. Salt Lake county deputies say a home daycare worker in Herriman bought the Willy Wonka "Nerd" candies from a Smith's in Herriman. After she'd put them in a bowl and the kids had eaten them, she says she noticed a strange pill mixed in with the candy. She took four kids to the hospital. A 2 year old child tested positive for opiates. The drug was an extended-release pain reliever. Smith's stores removed the Nerds from the Herriman's store shelves.
after seeing this story on the news last night, i begged ben to drive out there to shop with me. he refused, his reasoning was that we could make a run to pioneer park with just as much success. i call bullshit, he is just lazy. in the end, we decided to skip it, because i’m sure the polygamists out there need the high more than we do.

i still am regretting cutting candy out of my diet, think of all the fun i could have had!

willy wonka is so lucky....

non-friday five (mom & mormons beware)!

top five reasons why i want to be a lesbian when i grow up:


1-men, specifically justin.
2-portia de rossi.
3-discontinued condom use.
4-lesbian porn.
5-the l word series.

jb fan club!

while we're on the subject of jb, let me tell you about my hour and a half in the life of jb.

pmk and i went for a massage today, not together. gross. just at the same chiropractic clinic. all the cool kids at my office go there. it's fantastic, not to mention the most action i've been getting in quite some time. an hour massage for $10, you can't beat it. just be sure to hit the potty first, right alex? pmk and jb always go at the same time, adorable isn't it? jb had another commitment, so i took his place. i called in to let them know, for billing purposes. i requested that they call me jb. it seemed like the only fair thing to do. after all, i wouldn't want to break up the couple time.

people love jb. it's true. everywhere we go we spot someone he knows. it's brilliantly entertaining. case in point, the liquor store. we dragged him along one day to purchase wine for a party. jb is lds, not just lds, but active lds, not just active lds, but second counselor lds. it just so happens we ran into someone from his ward there. therefore proving that jb is famous, and that we are his entourage.

being jb was lovely. i got special treatment. no, not a happy ending....damn it. for all you utah locals, it's well worth your time to hit this place. i swear they take all insurance and somehow make it possible to get weekly massages. go, tune out the enya, and relax.

just tell 'em jb sent you.

a minivan world (guest blog)

let me quickly preface this next post--i'm going to start having a guest blog segment, mainly because my pals have fantastic blog ideas but no time to maintain a blog (read:lazy). the first of many comes from jb, superstar. jb is a member of the infamous geek squad. i enjoy every moment spent with him, as will you. i promise.


The power of persuasion leads many people to believe that SUVs are cool, and that minivans are boring and tired and that what they really need to shuttle from school to the grocery store is an SUV. It doesn’t matter whether it’s an H-2 or one of the 90-or-so SUVs based on their respective sister passenger car uni-body frames, all that matters is that they’re driving an SUV. Let’s just call them SMCs for now (Suburban Mom Cars). Carmakers have long understood the fact that marketing is the key to selling cars, and therefore, they have developed a format that sells in exchange for compromise in function. What consumers don’t fully understand is that they really want a minivan but are too vain or “hip” to know it. My crusade is to “educate” the sheep of the SUV trend that minivans are great.

OK, let’s enumerate the advantages of the minivan: better gas mileage, more room, lower insurance costs, easier access, larger payload capacity, more comfortable interior, better road ride, lots of cup holders, the list goes on. And speaking of road ride, how many SUVs actually ever leave the pavement? Most SUV owners quickly point to the time two years ago when they drove on that dirt road leading to . . . yada yada yada . . . and that they might need that functionality again some time.

Last week Sarah admitted a HUGE concession: she found herself admiring a panel truck (or work van) thinking that it was pretty cool. I know that it’s not necessarily a minivan, but we first take baby steps, then we learn to run. By opening her eyes, Sarah has opened herself up to a brand new world of freedom. If she can accept minivans for their superiority to SUVs, then she begins to shake that marketing hold that bounds her to so many limitations in life. Free thinkers of the world, Unite! Don’t just follow the flock! Drive a minivan and be free!

forgive me father, for i have sinned.

i’d like to take a quick moment to apologize to anyone who faced a crummy snow-packed commute this morning. you see, i am convinced the weather is directly related to my karma. my BAD karma.

when i am walking up to my apartment and see crazy chick, i can’t help but have negative thoughts towards her, and by negative thoughts i mean horrific torture:

-starving daisy for a week, dipping her in gravy, tying her down, and letting daisy have at her.
-forcing her to wear clothes that actually look good on her (gasp).
-tying her down in the street and letting those pesky long-boarders run her over, again, and again…
-giving ben countless sugared energy drinks and letting him drive her around downtown.
-forcing her to listen to selections from justin's ipod, which may or may not contain bad abba covers.
-and lastly letting yours truly drink tequila before speaking to her...

(a)stray scott

scott and i use the nurse betty scale when judging a movie, better or worse than nurse betty. it started out as the truth about cats and dogs, but we adjusted as time passed. both movies are completely mediocre, we neither loved them nor hated them. when scott's gravy train chose to move them to ohio (or whatever bullshit state he lives in), i was forced to discuss movies with new people. most of these people haven't seen nurse betty, so the rating process doesn't fly. which brings me to the question behind this post. i need run of the mill movie suggestions to create a new scale, either that or a fund to bring scott back. wanna help?

crazy neighbor chronicles

last night was laundry night. i gained courage and went to the creepy basement where the washer and dryer live. someone else was drying their clothes, no biggie, by the time i was done washing they would more than likely be done. my crap luck, it just had to be the loony girl, aka crazy chick. on top of the dryer was a big note asking that no one take her laundry.

to her i say:

1. there are only 6 people living in the house, granted 3 of which HATE you, but it's not like you're at a seedy laundromat where people steal your clothes.

2. your clothes are ugly, no one wants them. trust me.

if i'm wrong, then next time you see ben or carl clad in your hippie skirts, just kindly ask them to return to owner. i'm sure they would happily oblige.

happiness is pink, lots and lots of pink!

yikes, i just realized how much my last post sucked! it's this funk i'm in, the "when will winter ever be over" funk, well that and some major family drama, but hey what would a family be without drama, riiightt?

soooo, i thought it time to blog about happy things! as we know, i love all things pink. seriously. while shopping i can look at something, think it's totally ugly, see it in pink and instantly fall in love. it's true, it happens constantly. someday i will post pics of all my favorite pink things, until then i bring you my newest addition to my lovely collection of pink:
welcome home gals, a home where you will be loved and cherished above all others, simply because you're pink!

alt. country baggage....

I dreamed about killing you again last night. And it felt alright to me. Dying on the banks of Embarcadero skies. I sat and watched you bleed. Buried you alive in a fireworks display. Raining down on me. You cold, hot blood ran away from me. To the sea...
there is only one person that frequents my dreams in such matter (you know who you are). i think it's time to shelf the sopranos, as i refuse to stop listening to wilco.

with this gun, i thee wed.

i helped midge register for her wedding gifts yesterday, since her finance had to work. wedding guests beware, we got a little crazy with the scanner gun (e.g., truffles and perfume). the idea behind the scanner gun, makes sense, bored fiancee--give him a gun and he is more than entertained. however, sometimes the future groom isn't in attendance and the best galpal is. when this happens, i think there should be the best friend scanner gun, something pink and sparkling would be lovely.

after registering for all those great presents, i'll be the first in line to substitute for the groom on the actual day. let this serve as public record-- if ryan is nowhere to be found on the big day, check the closet, he may or may not be tied up there. damn it, i really want that pink teapot!

fu** you, fu** me....

the things that make you go hmm...

krissy and i were at hollywood video tonight, while paying for our rentals i couldn't help but notice the membership filing cabinet. thankfully/sadly, my name wasn't in that drawer.

why i hate radio...

i forgot my beloved ipod today, and was forced to listen to radio music. something i rarely do, when i turn on the radio it's for the sole purpose of npr. i was surprised to hear not one, but two pearl jam songs in a thirty minutes.

i didn't realize 1994 was back. i rushed home, looked in my closet for a flannel plaid shirt. whew, nothing. the 90's aren't back, thank god. baggy jeans, grungy plaid, butterfly clips, back-pack purses, doc martens, and pearl jam are long gone. if it's all the same to you, let's keep it that way.

at any rate, dj's please just stop....

girls who screw....

despite how offensive and stereotypical these are towards women, i absolutely love 'em! and that's the bloody point right?

(squish squish) need it, want it, have to have it.

who needs craig's list, after all....

it's time to revamp my male friends. the current ones are so last season. i need someone new and exciting. my new friend(s) will need to have the following:

-hbo

-patience, lots and lots of it

-dog friendly

-excellent chauffeuring skills

-willing to sit through independent film, but also willing to be the blockbuster scapegoat (sometimes a girl needs a popular movie without taking the indie-shame)

-needs to have oodles of books laying around for me to "borrow"

-has the attention span to sit with me for hours at sbux

-can magically fix my laundry situation

-excellent wine selection

**apply within, only serious need apply.

suspicious shoppers....

things not to buy in bulk:

dry ice
baking soda
red devil lye

apparently, this instantly makes you a baking bomber meth addict in the eyes of your local grocer, but to me it's just another day at the office.

reeeeee-united and it feels so good!

tim, king of the fish, met jb and i for lunch today. we took him to our favorite sandwich spot, where he made a huge mistake, the mistake of admitting to being a newbie. he was immediately shunned, not given soup samples (gasp), and let's face it lunch just isn't lunch without the soup shots. our own soup nazi, clad in a police ball cap and "property of ESPN football" shirt, wouldn't let poor tim choose his own sandwich. whether it was that the turkey du jour wasn't quite selling or it really was a good sandwich...either way that's what tim was getting with or without a fight. there is something about everyday citizens wearing police hats that stops you dead in your tracks. you suddenly take the "no soup for you" quote seriously, very very seriously.

also, it was there that i realized how desperate housewives is ruining america--fashionable sweatpants. ohhh, the irony!

fixin' for a fest...

the only time i don a pearl snap shirt is for the occasional motherhips concert. so when i was invited to a country western theme party this weekend i couldn't help but cringe.

growing up in the country, all my energy was focused on leaving the country unaffected (e.g. joining the republican party and owning cowboy boots). to this day i credit the nine inch nails. while everyone was listening to garth brooks, i was worshiping trent reznor.


sorry dad and alex, but no wide open spaces for me, a girl's gotta stick to her guns!

ipod nation!

keeping up with the jones' has turned into keeping up with the jobs. rather than the status of a 4-car garage, it's now a 4-pod family. technology, i adore it! especially when whatever new gadget comes out with a pink version. who cares if i need it, or will even use it. it's pink therefore i can't live without it.

ibeat, i need it. i desperately want to be the beat bouncin' beacon of boppity brilliance, mostly i just think i'd be cute.

oscar-off!

i haven't felt much like blogging this weekend, because i'm in a bit of a foul mood. however, despite that some things cannot be ignored....the oscars.

i heart jon stewart, george clooney, and i don't really care about the plight of the pimp!

blogging rules of conduct!

any comments or emails i receive due to this blog, instantly become property of this blog--for my use, so don't piss me off. i will repost and humiliate as i see fit. don't like it, then don't email me propositions with child molester pictures attached.

simple, isn't it?

the offender knows who he is. the rest of you have nothing to worry about, i promise!

friday five, thursday style.

you guys deserve a break, so instead of boring you with another novel length post, i bring you the friday five early (even if scott and i are the only ones who find it the least bit entertaining).

top 5 movies you're embarrassed you liked:

1) singles ward
2) dance 'til dawn
3) quarterback princess
4) pippi longstockings
5) can't buy me love


i'll spare you the reasons why i love 'em, and no need to point out my pathetic obsession with 80's bubblegum teeny-bopper movies. trust me, i know! consider yourself lucky it's a five thing, as you really would hate to see the list continue.

guest blog.

Two weeks ago, I had a few ideas about stress. I had just gotten off the phone with a friend of mine who lives/works in Kanab, Utah. She works for the BLM and I was trying to talk her into hook me up with a hard to get hiking permit to an absolutely gorgeous plot of earth down in the red desert. The stars had aligned and it was both my girlfriend’s birthday and her spring break. Or whatever the hell they call it when it happens before spring. No luck. And after checking out the never reliable but still controlling weather forecast, things didn’t exactly look stable. I have a few pressures here: strongest being, for my last birthday, she had given me a 10 day trip to Hawaii. This is what athletes refer to as, competition. I think that I will always lack the foresight and organization to plan a vacation that doesn’t involve a tent.

I like surprises. So, approaching her about my anxieties about a trip, meant revealing the possibility of a trip. After swallowing a little pride, I explained my situation and she comforted my insecurity by telling me that she didn’t need to go on a trip. “Just apply that money towards a ring.” I’ve learned that anytime a woman uses the phrase “a ring”, the reference couldn’t be more specific. There is only a singular option. We joke about this all the time, but to be fair, I’m pretty sure that it’s only been me that’s found it funny. (Sarah is horrified at this point and I wish I could see the disgusted look on your face as you read this.) The truth is, we’ve dated for a year and a half and we both feel comfortable with the happily ever after scheme.

At some point in the following days as we were lounging about on the couch, my mind started wandering and so I asked what kind of ring she pictured in her head. Without hesitation, she gave me the obligatory reassurance that she would love any ring that I gave her. That doesn’t help me, so I asked again. She hesitated, gave me a once over, then opened up her iBook. She had ideas alright, and they were all being kept in a folder on her notebook. After about 5 minutes, I realized that they all had something else in common. They all said, Tiffany Co. Suddenly, I’m rethinking the wisdom in the 20 minutes we’d spent in the Rodeo Drive store last Valentine’s day “for fun”. The shoes at Prada now seem rather reasonable.

I’m quite aware that she has two rings in her possession. And of course by rings, I keep with the theme of RINGS. The first, a beautifully ornate ring from 1930 that had belonged to her grandmother. The other was a basic yellow gold solitaire from a previous suitor. He left the ring behind to cover some of his outstanding bills. We just found out that the cubic zirconium is worth a grand total of $20. Which means that we also just found out that it’s a cubic zirconium. Goodness this is an awkward situation. My evolutionary instincts of cockpetition immediately go to work and I’m proud for being better, but the 37% femininity of my upbringing reminds me that this is pretty low news.

Shopping for rings is one thing. I gave myself three pimples over Christmas on the Sundance site finding her a ring from Santa. Of course I’ve got impeccable taste and she loves it, even if I did label it as a ‘practice ring’. Which makes asking for her input all the more interesting. She flirts with indecision. Most evenings ‘out’ include 30 minutes of fashion show before we make it out the door. I’ve never told her what to wear, but all too often, I decide. I don’t expect her to pick out her own ring; I just want to make sure that I’m headed in the right direction. I’ve since spent hours hunched over glass counters holding a ‘loop’ up to my eye. Squinting; either trying to adjust to the magnification or the price tag. (If I didn’t have a brand new bike already, this would be so much harder to justify. Did I mention that I haven’t exactly had a job for 6 months?) In many ways, it’s almost fun. In the end, I’ve decided to design and build. In the end, it will be gorgeous and hopefully an adequate representation of each of us.

In retribution to all the stress, I feigned excitement about a wedding expo in Utah County last weekend. Of course the idea horrified her but I knew that she wouldn’t pass up an effort on my part to plan something. It turned out to be in a barn at Thanksgiving Point. The first question I was asked was if I’d be interested in sitting down with some guy for an hour critiquing his china patterns. It was hard to say no, so I asked him where the roosters where. Over the next 60 minutes, I came to the conclusion that Utah is a very special place. If you are even slightly considering getting married in the next 6 months, I would encourage you to stall until the 2007 models come out. Here are the trends:

-Chocolate ‘fondue’ fountains-Nothing says elegant like messy AND unhygienic.
-Wedding videos shown through a waterfall-I saw it, and it still doesn’t make any sense.
-Bad photographers.
-Target does wedding cakes AND caters. Which means that, by association, Wal-Mart does too!
-There’s an assumption in the UC that your reception will be taking place in the ubiquitous carpeted ‘cultural hall’ of the local Mormon church. “We’ll help you make it pretty.” I doubt it.
-The best age to get married is 20 so that you never have to worry about the hassles of having a personality.

I can hardly wait for the next expo. This exciting weekend of first time adventures was supposed to include one more. Our first trip to counseling for some pre-marital advice. Unfortunately, our therapist called the night before to cancel due to the flu. I’m not sure that the first exposure she has of me is the screaming monkey on my voicemail necessarily bodes well…

operation, feed geek squad.

i am lucky to be considered one of the cool kids at work, being a cool kid has it’s perks. one of which is belonging to a lunch club, our lunch club consists of 4 members: pmk, jb, alex, and myself. sometimes we allow an occasional guest. we even have approved topics: politics, religion, bikes, skiing, my dating life (or lack thereof). we are regulars at a few sandy spots. recently our sandwich shop closed, which has us thrown off--enter today’s lunch spot, carl’s jr.

as some of you are starting to figure out i am a tad picky, which is not to be confused with high maintenance. fast food isn’t my thing, too much grease, too much meat, and with the calorie intake at sbux, a girl really has to watch her figure. frankly, i had no choice today. i deserve it though, as i always have the boys drive. i always say that i don’t drive, i am driven. jb was the lucky chauffeur today, and when he drives he tends to think he is in charge. we agree on one thing, get in the car and before you know it we are pulling into the iceberg gas station grease-arena. which is how we ended up in my own personal playground. i found today that these spots aren’t so bad after all, sure the food is still….well meat, but there is plenty of entertainment. no, not clowns or balloons tied into so called animals, but fellow diners.

i have been known to eavesdrop (you have all been warned). today’s goodie was when a guy at the next table stated, “vegas is the farthest place i’ve ever been”(now that is just plain sad). pmk quickly pulled out his handy camera phone and took this little beauty (please take note of the drink cup, can't get a date? no worries, just take along a 44 oz. refill mug to sit at your side.)....
another favorite was this…..
the trays were so warped i couldn’t eat without rocking the boat (possible foreshadowing to my future fast food ass). i can’t remember why the boys said they were warped, but i would like to think that they use such hot water to kill the germs it melts the plastic. me, a germ freak?! never. (that is topic for a whole other post).

****i am sure i am going to receive plenty of dirty emails over this post, in fact i look forward to them. however, let me say that i like people, i really really do. don’t let my bitchy little posts fool you, i can be nice. well, when i want to be.