Rocky Horror picture show DVD - IN THE CHECKOUT LINE with the candy - whats wrong with this picture?

YES! I admit it - I have a strong bias against people who fake-bake and dye their skin orange in the process. This is a visceral reaction to an executive who I offered advice in the course of a conversation and he came back with "That's not what I asked you." (even though I'd answered his question in the same breath)

I get a lot of shit from people every time I tell them I live in Scottsdale - and damn it, its partially because of these orange people who get out of Scottsdale and piss and whine and generally make an indelible impression on the rest of the world.

So this is the last post for awhile on that topic, I'll slap the sticker on my car and fuckin' get over it and stop boring everyone with my orange-people-profiling stories.

I happened to be in Safeway in FAR north Scottsdale - like Pima and Thompson Ranch, near there. Safeway knows their customers. Depending on the demographic of the zip code the store is in, the mix of items at the checkout counter will be a little different. So I'm in a very very exclusive area and it was early in the morning for this shopping center - about 10:05 am. I ask the gardener in English where I can get a cup of coffee (partially because I wanted coffee and I am too polite to tell strangers I need to go take a shit)

Oh, I just did.

The gardener didn't understand me. No worries, I switch to Spanish and he tells me that hidden behind the fake storefront made up to look vaguely like a southwesternish cast of NYC or Chicago was a safeway store around the corner. Obviously I am taking some artistic license with the translation: deal with it.

So I go in and get my Odwalla Chocolate Protein drink, diet coke and some gum. Yeah, since returning from Uruguay I've gone totally native and I don't put anything into my body that hasn't been processed. My body is a temple - a temple much like a shopping mall with a planned interior and fiberglass storefronts and glitzy signage. Yeah thats it. So yeah, I'm not exactly buying kasha and milk.

In the rack of the checkout line is a copy of the fucking Rocky Horror Picture Show movie along with some other equally deep films. My comment to the cashier was, "All I need is that movie, some bronzing cream and some Fiji water and I'll have gone native."

She got the joke and laughed like hell.

And now I'm done for awhile with my tirades against unnatural chemical skin colors. It's been played out.