What a magical place, the Land of Carmel! I thought it was just a myth, but sure enough, even their Walmart is filled with rich, polite, beautiful people. Just like my dreams? Of course, I am used to the smarmy, trash-infested holes that are the Southport and Keystone Walmarts. They barely top the guy selling steaks out of his truck. *shudder.
The only thing lacking in Carmel was the selection. But I don't think it was a "Super" Walmart, so it's okay. I guess Carmel People don't eat nearly as many frozen pizzas as the Southside. Seriously, see for yourself!
And the people! It's not often you walk into Walmart and feel inadequate. I saw a guy wearing $1000 shoes and a $100 haircut. And everyone has ethnic children!
One chick was actually hot! I know what you're thinking? "hot and in Walmart? Come on, you must be thinking of Target." Nope. (The Carmel Target is next on my list, but I gotta hit the gym pretty hard first.)
One cougar was hitting on me, trying to say she liked Franzia too...
Bullcrap! Nobody likes franzia, it's toxified garbage! Don't lie to me, that's no way to start off a 20 year age difference booty call relationship. No worries, Sugar, I'll be drinking your booze. Hopefully while lounging around the pool for your pleasure. Gonna need some banana hammocks and flavored tanning oils, good thing I'm already at Walmart...
Carmel life, here I come!
Just because you stopped before the line at a stop sign, doesn't mean you get to go before me. Whoever stops first at the intersection, goes first... dick.
It's never too early to start bitching about Winter in Indiana. What a shitty day. And it'll probably do this cold rain garbage for a week or two until it gives way to full-on ice and snow and stupid people who drive like they've never seen the shit before. Screw today. I'm gonna go inside and take my pants off.
I know it's cold outside when you're collecting the carts at the grocery store, but don't warm your hands under the heatlamps of the fried food. Gross.
I spend a decent amount of time working out. I like to run or bike on the Monon around the Broad Ripple area and I also workout at the local YMCA. No workout is complete without tunes? I have a variety of music I like to listen to. But lately I've become very puzzled. What are the old people listening to? I see lots of older people with Ipods or MP3 players and I also ponder "what are they listening to." My 50 year old mother doesn't know how to open or send a text message let alone download music onto a computer and then upload it onto an Ipod. This cool hip thing that so many people are strutting around town with has now caught up with the old folk. I'm amazed. Did they do it themselves or ask their 18 year old grandson Johnny to help when he stopped by one afternoon? And if they did, was Johnny as puzzled as I am? How did they get it, and what are they listening to?
Over the past 10 years the Colts have made a name for themselves not only in the NFL but for the city. They have brought the city millions of dollars and a Superbowl win. But how quick are we to turn our backs on them with a less than desirable season so far? So what? With great teams come great fans. We always hear about the fans of the Browns, Raiders, and Bears who year after year stick by their team. We owe it to the Colts to give them our support and devotion. We have a new house and need to become the 12th player to show the Colts we love them.
I recently visited the Crysler Jeep dealership on 96th street to purchase a new car. When inquiring about the gas mileage I was informed by the salesman that MPG should not be a factor in determining a car because gas prices are low right now. I understand that car salesmen are known for their bullshit, but this is a new low, especially in this struggling economy.
The rise in the price for gas lead to the rise in cost for everyday groceries. So when the gas prices drop, so should the price for milk. Right?
Thanks Mother Nature for finally bringing in the cold weather. This means that the overflow of door-to-door knockers in Broadripple will slow to just an annoying drip. They range in age, race, character and time of day, but they all want the same thing. Money. Stop knocking on doors and interrupting mothers from tending to their children, family dinners, and naps in the afternoon. Find yourselves a meaningful source of income that is beneficial to the community rather than an annoying it.
As if the 9am Sunday morning cop drama in front of my house wasn't enough today, my faith in humanity/Fountain Square was able to drop a little lower still. The shenanigans to which I woke up included 6 squad cars, a paddy-wagon, a butcher knife and two hot skanks trying to kill each other in the street. And that's awesome, of course, but nothing out of the ordinary really. Some people read the paper and have their coffee Sunday morning... I sit on my porch.
But what really tears it for me today is getting in my car to go return some videos, and of course someone has gotten into it last night (I just leave it unlocked and don't keep anything of value in there, cuz reorganizing your glovebox is easier and cheaper than replacing a broken window.) At least there was nothing of value in there to me... they took my pennies! Friggin' pennies! But not even all of them! There were probably like 25 pennies in the console, and they took about 20! What the hell?! Ok, obviously you're a crackhead, because a dumb teenager is looking for stereo equipment or something of resale value, they don't care about pennies. My question is, "Crackhead, why didn't you take all the pennies?" You obviously need them more than me, but if you need 19 pennies, couldn't you use 25 pennies? Is $.19 the going rate for a hit of crack, and you didn't want to take more than you need? Is there a "Crackhead Code of Honor"? If you had taken all of them, you could possibly get the clerk at the Marathon to trade you for a shiny quarter. Then it's only four more cars you need to hit in order to make enough for bus fare to go see your Baby-Mama in Beech Grove for the second time this year... "Merry Christmas, little Toby, I'll see you when I see you..." Or more likely, you'll take the bus to the Eastside and try to score some crack... Unless of course, Baby-Mama is your dealer, then you know..... two birds, one dollar-twenty-five.
On a side note, I realized something this morning while sipping my coffee and enjoying the show... I'm glad I never called that chick after she gave me her number... otherwise it might be me she was coming after with a butcher knife, instead of her hot cousin..... Swish!