www.reneecarol.com

1.  a man told me yesterday that he started the “arizona umbrella club” over twelve years ago, himself.  when he founded the club, he was the only member. (no surprise.)  now, he has over 200 umbrella enthusiasts that get together once a month to talk about umbrellas.  this idea just gives me inspiration to finally start my “hamster wheel worshipers club.”  if you can dream it, you can do it.

2.  my parents can rest assured that they aren’t the only ones on the face of the earth that still wear a fanny pack.  an old, asian woman wandering the streets here in arizona had one on today.  here’s a ground-breaking idea: “fanny pack fanatics club.”  see how easy this is?!?

3.  men: do not wear pants so tight that they cause you to form a camel toe.  stop stealing my vaginal thunder and leave the camel toe fashion faux pas to me.  you have a penis for a reason…and that reason was not to transform your genitals in to a camel toe.  ugh.

4.  TMZ.com is creeping its way in to my number one favorite website position.  maybe it’s a subconscious desire to work for a celebrity gossip site that offers all of the earth shattering celeb dirt/info.  nothing says you have reached life’s summit quite like taking pics of lindsay lohan’s vagina in public.  cha-ching!

5.  one of my customers always happens to drop in when i’m eating, so therefor, he thinks i eat 24/7.  he stopped in again today, but as luck would have it, i wasn’t grazing on anything.

customer:  you’re not eating?

me: nope.  in about an hour i’ll eat again.

customer:  you eat a lot.

me:  i try for every three hours.  just trying to stay lean.

customer:  lean. (laughs)

me:  are you calling me fat?

customer: (laughs)

dammit.  minus ten cool points for me, due to one of my semi-mentally handicapped customers indirectly calling me fat.  fuck. arizona is for haters.

you know it’s love when people make references to fast food joints when speaking of their significant others.

example:

a talkative, very nice and energetic young man came in to work the other day to buy something.  after he bought his merch, he stayed for about thirty minutes talking to me about his woman problems.  (and i thought you had to play therapist when you’re a bartender.)  anyway, as i was pretending to listen to his issues with his girlfriend of six years, he said something that almost made me wet myself (urination) in public.

speaking of his girlfriend; “dang girl, when i met you at boston market six years ago, you were tight…but now, you’re talking to lawyers and shit.”

you know it’s true love when you can split a whole chicken and some sides with someone.  match made in gluttonous heaven.

i always have random thoughts about everything, but it usually leads to me being a dickhead.  a big one.

i don’t know when huge ribbons graduated from tacky accessory to haute couture, but i don’t like it.  are they still really “in?”  well, apparently, this girl thought so at the bar last night.  i know she was trying to be sexy, but after seeing this “larger” girl with a ribbon wrapped around her waist, it reminded me of someone’s sweet sixteen birthday vehicle.  hey, miss sparkling, new toyota?  do you come with extra large cup holders?!?

just add a pair of high heels…and wah-lah!

…and then there was this other woman who had on a provocative outfit that she paired with a long, beaded rosary.  it’s cool if you’re down with religion, but i think jesus would be “all about” you wearing a bra right now.  good choice on the vodka and red bull, though.  quite the signature drink.  it’s so classy, even jesus is baptizing babies with it lately.

you have seen this, right?!?

boredom is getting the best of me…no better way to deal with it than taking this completely ridiculous survey that i found on myspace! (cheesy thumbs-up inserted here.)

Are you afraid of heights?
when i am falling from them, yes.

Have you been to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago?
nope, but i have considered jumping off of it.

Would you like to bungee jump off a bridge?
and plummet to my disfiguring and momentarily painful death?  why the eff not?!?

Do you enjoy flying?
you have to get me tanked first.

Ever walk under a latter?
this is one of those times where spell check has failed you by default.  look in to that.

Would you step on a cockroach with your bare foot?
right after i chewed him up and spit him out.

Are you afraid of the dark?
only if there’s a serial killer loose in town.

Ever check under your bed because you were afraid someone was in the room?
no…i would check under there to make sure by adolescent booze stash wasn’t found yet.

Ever play the Bloody Mary game?
every time i’m hungover.  you should try it.

Are you afraid of breaking a miror?
physically, no.  with my hideous looks, yes.

Ever been ghost hunting?
i don’t believe in hunting and killing innocent ghosts.  PETA should get on that one.

Will you watch a scary movie alone in the dark?
of course…with a baseball bat in hand.  (saw II, you better believe it.)

Ever have nightmares after watching a scary movie?
i only have nightmares after watching romantic comedies starring hugh grant.

Do you run with sharp objects?
let’s get this straight: i don’t run for shit.

Do you like Ferris Wheels at the fair?
nope.  i don’t want to be on the news for the wheel falling off its’ base and crushing innocent civilians.

When was the last time you were truly scared?
when my period didn’t come on time.

What would you say is your biggest fear?
reproducing.

some lingerie is not hot.  period.  like this:

i was walking through walmart the other day, (yes, i love walmart.  get off it.) when i passed a fluorescent pink nighty.  now, it wasn’t the one pictured above (i couldn’t find that one) but i wanted to give you a rough idea.

i don’t know when neon lingerie made it’s way on to the “sex appeal” catwalk, but i guess nothing says, “come hither” like a bic highlighter.

next, i feel like verbally abusing the person who pioneered this look, and physically abusing the people that continue to wear it:

if role playing consists of your mate acting as a deep sea fisherman, then this might be the look for you.  but, on my own “scale of sex appeal,” catching live tuna just doesn’t do it for me.  and, yet again, if you look on the packaging, it says, “one size fits most women who think tacky is the new sexy.”  okay, i may have added that last part on there…but you catch my drift.

i have just finished reading, “bitter is the new black” by jen lancaster.

i highly recommend her work, based off of the first book i have read of hers, due to her writing/storytelling style.  if you can survive the first 50 pages or so (she’s a sorority girl alum, therefore, the first chunk of the book is hard to swallow due to the fact that she absolutely loves herself) the book is an all-around great story of “what goes around, comes around.”

i would like to think that we share the same writing style, except for the fact that i don’t have the sorority girl credentials and my I.Q. may be a few points lower, due to my lack of oxygen at birth.  (i will make any excuse i can to try and put myself on the same level as ms. lancaster, herself.)

check out her webpage. you’ll hate yourself for not stumbling across it first.

there it was.  out in public.  i thought this style of blouse had died with the hanson brothers’ career.  i was mistaken.

a woman at the supermarket was sporting one.  and my jaw almost dropped to the floor in amazement.  i was appalled for two reasons:

1.  i have a horrible sense of fashion.  if i am astounded that you dressed yourself, you are not blind, and willingly went out in public looking the way you do, then you know you must look like hell.

2.  this shirt is marketed as “one size fits all.”  please don’t take advantage of that.  let’s come up with one rule of thumb right now: “one size fits all should translate to ‘one size looks good on no one.’”

what a catasrophe.

making me thankful that heidi and spencer married each other…so no other innocent civilian has to.

i forgot to mention that while i was pondering and having epiphanies of intelligence today, i was sipping on a cup of homemade coffee.  the best part; when i drank the entire thing and glanced in the bottom of my cup, there lay a dead spider.  so much for trying to flavor my coffee with chocolate caramel creamer.