Do you know what I am saying?

When you look at the image above what comes to mind? If it's "YUM, that's great tequila!" then congratulations, YOU are the subject of today's rant. Aren't you lucky.

For all you Patron lovers out there: It's not as awesome as you think. Really. You're just flat wrong. You, my little lemming of ignorance, are a victim of an absolutely fantastic marketing ploy. Patron is in fact, liquid crap. Now, don't get me wrong -- Patron is a gazzilion times better than Senor Jose's agave urine, Sauza juice, or the God-awful Bandolero liquid hell. BUT! It's definitely not worth what you're paying for it. As you slap down your 45 bones for some fancily packaged craptastic drunk potion, the Patron marketing team is laughing their asses off over a pitcher of Centenario Anejo margaritas, relishing in their success in taking the money of another American sucker. I commend those dudes. I hope to be that good at marketing some day. It shouldn't be too hard. All I have to do is take something crappy, put it in a nice bottle, wrap it up in a shiny box, and give it to rappers to slam down beats about. Success. Screw grad school, my business plan is set.

And while we're on the subject of rappers, who in God's name is "Shawty?" This woman that every damn rapper has got something to sing about. The girl must be a giant skankasaurus, and I'm sure her crotch is one of those "hot dog in a hallway" situations.

Back to tequila. Silver tequila also makes me very very angry. So many people are all like, "Blanco is soooo much better than gold tequila, it's so much smoother." You're wrong. Blanco goes straight from the steel fermentation tank to the bottle. Gold tequila goes into oaked barrels and is allowed to absorb the lucious oakey flavors as it mellows into a tasty treat. You people that are all about the silver are just uninformed and again, victims of a genius marketing team. Feliz Navidad, homes.

Bottom line, if you like paying a crapload for harsh, crappy tequila, please by all means, buy Patron Silver.

But the bottle sure is pretty, isn't it?

Speaking of pretty things, the picture below is certainly not.


What's the deal with the low rider trucks? If you ask me, they're one of the stupidest things known to mankind.

TRUCKS ARE FOR UTILITY PURPOSES! WHY? WHY? WHY??? Would you lower them to 1.4765 inches from the ground so you can't even drive over so much as a pebble? Trucks are made for driving over dirt, hauling manly things, and attracting girls like me. Your low risin' truck can't drive over a piece of hardened dog crap, and it ain't gonna get you no bitches. It can't even haul your mama, who by the way, is so fat that when she goes to the movies, she sits next to eeeeeverybody. No. Your low rider truck is the stupidest thing I have ever seen. Your "sweet ass ride" looks like a steel caterpillar. And you know what I do when I see a caterpillar? I scream and flick it away.

Have you ever noticed that the level of pants directly correlates to the level of lowrider vehicle? And the level of the vehicle directly correlates to the level of intelligence of its owner. Or really, who are we kidding? These people don't actually own their cars, their moms do. And if they do, by some snowball's chance in hell, own their truck, well then, shouldn't that money be better spent on child support?

Yeah, I went there.

Now, to the classy side of life.
I have never seen something as contradictory as the stemless white wine glass. Really? White wine is to be drank chilled. Your hands exude heat at 98.4 degrees Fahrenheit. What part of this do you not understand, wine glass manufacturers? When you drink white wine, please for the love of Dionysus, HOLD IT BY THE STEM! Keep your wine chilled! When you have no option of a stem, your best option is drinking handless with a straw and looking like a Grade A Dufus. At least when people drink white wine out of a red party cup, or a coffee mug, or straight out of the damn bottle, they know they're being ghettofabulous. These folks just want to get wasted. That's cool. I've had my share of those moments. But the stemless white wine glass people -- I just wanna backhand you across the face. You're following a trend that is contradictory to the principles and etiquette that pertain to white wine drinking. Drink all the red wine you want out of a stemless glass, I don't care. But if you're popping open a chilled Chardonnay, please, PLEASE give that sweet nectar some respect and drink out of something with a stem. That's why it's there.

Lastly, I do not know what "Hyphy" means.

Do you know what I am saying?

WTF, El Nino?

I think we got enough rain yesterday to drown Michael Phelps.

And that makes me very angry.

Why?

El Nino.

El Nino is the redheaded stepchild of the Meteorological Phenomenon family. Mr. and Mrs. Meteorological Phenomenon should make him live in a closet under the stairs and serve him a diet of lima beans, unripe avocados, and Odoul's. Or give him up for adoption.

I hate El Nino because he is a giant tease. We have all this rain, and are my mountains getting any snow? NO! It's 45 degrees at the base of Alpine Meadows, and the storm snow total thus far is a whopping ZERO inches. That is one big load of BS. The moment I heard the forecast for a "storm," my Pavlovian ski instincts kicked in. My nose got cold, my quads got sore, and my vocabulary expanded to include ski bum words like "wicked," "sick," and "gnarley." And then someone reminded me that it's supposed to be an El Nino year. I know it's wrong to shoot the messenger, but I wanted to crop dust that person at that very moment. I HATE El Nino! All this precipitation, and not a flake of snow. I had a dream last night where my poor skis and snowboard were alive, and they were whining like puppies at the window, wanting so badly to go outside and play, and I had to play the bad guy and tell them that it's still too early and too warm to go outside and play. It was heartbreaking.

I've been listening to Dean Martin's "Let It Snow" on loop for a few days now to do my part to ward off the warm weather. If the powers of Deano can't bring me snow, what can?

Alpine Meadows opens in 52 days, and I don't think I can make it that long. It's going to be a warm winter, folks. Our powder is going to be wet and heavy. The trees are going to drip drip drip all season. I'm going to resign to the fact that the seat of my pants will pretty much be soaking wet from December 5th until April 1st.

Maybe I'll treat El Nino as an excuse to buy new ski pants. And while we're on the subject of ski-clothing....what's up with the people that wear waterproof jackets inside? Those people annoy me. What are you scared of? YOU'RE INSIDE. It's not going to rain on you unless you live in a hut with a thatched roof. And if that's the case, then sell your stupid jacked and use the money to buy a real roof, dumbass. My only thought is that these people are afraid that the ceiling fire putter-outter sprinkler things (this is a technical term) are going to go off at any given moment. Um, I've got news for you, inside jacket wearer people. Your time could be better spent just making sure that the building doesn't set on fire.

Moral of the story? El Nino is weak sauce, and I want to ski NOW!

Oh, and while they're giving out Nobel Prizes like candy, where's mine? I went #2 in the big girl potty yesterday, I think that deserves a time-honored, globally respected award.

What do discount potato chips, urine cocktails, and homeless people have in common?

I have decided that I need to rant about Rob Roy.

If you're not familiar with Davis, you might not get this one.

Seriously, WTF is with this dude? He thinks he's all that and a bag of chips. But really, the chips inside this bag of douche are some dollar store off-brand stale, mealy bits and pieces of potato fodder trying to pass themselves off as chips with "all that" seasoning. Rob Roy is not a tasty snack. Rather, he's a giant disappointment that leaves you unsatisfied and thirsty.

I've never met Rob Roy, but I see him at bars. He wears old man hats. He's one of those guys that thinks vintage tuxedo vests are awesome. No no, Rob Roy, they make you look like a douche. At least he dresses the part. When I look at Rob Roy, I think of Jughead from the Archie Comics series.

The self proclaimed "Party King of Davis" has been known to drink his own urine. Well, he mixed it with beer, but in my world drinking pee is drinking pee. I don't care if you mix it with beer, wine, tequila, holy grail juice, or water from the freakin' fountain of youth. It's still pee. And rumor has it that he has also lit his "area" on fire, just for fun. Talk about a need for attention! Gross. I'm afraid to drink in bars now because I know that the glass I'm drinking out of was possibly once also drunk out of by the guy that drank his own pee. You're not the party king of Davis, buddy. You're a weirdo. Graduate, Van Wilder. And by the way, you're not nearly as cool. And you're nowhere near as attractive as Mr. Ryan Reynolds. [Google image search break.....siiigh]

What really grinds my gears is that Rob Roy has run for Davis City Council 2 times. Thanks to the common sense of Davis voters, he's lost both of those times. This dude makes a mockery of political campaigning. You can't expect to spend $250 on a political campaign and actually win. Rob Roy, your cardboard and spraypaint stenciled signs make you look homeless. "Vote for Rob Roy, he'll sit on the corner all day and ask you for money and then instead of putting it toward the city budget, he'll spend it on beer."

I'm a passionate person, I really am. Don't judge.

Rob Roy has worked at Ben & Jerry's for as long as I can remember. The dude scoops ice cream for a living. Not to say that scooping ice cream isn't a respectable profession, it is. I like ice cream, and I especially like when it's scooped. But I don't want my city government being run by a dude that rolls frozen dairy products into balls and dribbles sauce on them for a living. Oh, wait, sometimes there are whipped cream and nuts involved. That really complicates things. And it really prepares you for locally elected public office.

And while we're on the subject of Ben & Jerry's, I'm still flaming mad at PETA for the human breast milk idea. See Rant #1.

Thank you, Davis voters, for not letting this imbecile into elected office. I'm not registered in Davis. I refuse to belong to the voting constituency that is the People's Republic of Davis. I like Target, I don't bring my own bags to the grocery store, I drive an SUV, and I recycle only when convenient. That said, because I did not vote in the Davis City Council elections, I really have no say in whether this dude is elected to office or not. But seriously, Davis, BRAVO. You've done a lot of crazy things, like building a tunnel for the frogs, and refusing to just build the long awaited Trader Joe's, but choosing to give Rob Roy the shaft was not one of those things.

Let's drive him out. I wish exile were still an appropriate form of punishment.

The crime?

Douchebaggery and tuxedo vests.