The Viperess
New member
You know you are in Arizona when...
You buy salsa by the quart.
A red light is merely a suggestion.
Out-of-state friends start to visit after October but clear out the end of
April.
You think someone driving and wearing oven mitts is clever.
Most of the restaurants have the first name "El" or "Los."
You think six tons of crushed rock makes a beautiful yard.
Your car overheats before you drive it.
Your house is made of stucco and has a red clay tile roof.
You no longer associate bridges (or rivers) with water.
You know a swamp cooler is not a happy hour drink.
You can say 115 degrees without fainting.
Every other vehicle is an SUV.
People break out coats when temperature drops below 70.
You discover, in July, that it only takes two fingers to drive your car.
The pool water is warmer than you are.
You can make sun tea instantly.
You run your air conditioner in the middle of winter so you can use your
fireplace.
Most people will not drink tap water unless they are dying of thirst.
Kids will ask "What's a mosquito?"
People with black cars or have black upholstery in their car are
automatically assumed either to be from out-of-state or nuts.
You notice the best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
Convertible owners drive with their tops down in winter, up in summer.
Monday Night Football starts at 7 instead of 9
You realize that Valley Fever isn't a disco dance.
You can finish a Big Gulp in 10 minutes and go back for seconds.
The water from the cold water tap is the same temperature as the hot one.
It's noon in July, kids are on summer vacation, and not one person is moving
on the streets.
You actually burn your hand opening the car door.
Sun screen is sold year round, kept at the front of the checkout counter, a
formula less than 30 spf is a joke, and you wear it just to go to Circle K.
You buy salsa by the quart.
A red light is merely a suggestion.
Out-of-state friends start to visit after October but clear out the end of
April.
You think someone driving and wearing oven mitts is clever.
Most of the restaurants have the first name "El" or "Los."
You think six tons of crushed rock makes a beautiful yard.
Your car overheats before you drive it.
Your house is made of stucco and has a red clay tile roof.
You no longer associate bridges (or rivers) with water.
You know a swamp cooler is not a happy hour drink.
You can say 115 degrees without fainting.
Every other vehicle is an SUV.
People break out coats when temperature drops below 70.
You discover, in July, that it only takes two fingers to drive your car.
The pool water is warmer than you are.
You can make sun tea instantly.
You run your air conditioner in the middle of winter so you can use your
fireplace.
Most people will not drink tap water unless they are dying of thirst.
Kids will ask "What's a mosquito?"
People with black cars or have black upholstery in their car are
automatically assumed either to be from out-of-state or nuts.
You notice the best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
Convertible owners drive with their tops down in winter, up in summer.
Monday Night Football starts at 7 instead of 9
You realize that Valley Fever isn't a disco dance.
You can finish a Big Gulp in 10 minutes and go back for seconds.
The water from the cold water tap is the same temperature as the hot one.
It's noon in July, kids are on summer vacation, and not one person is moving
on the streets.
You actually burn your hand opening the car door.
Sun screen is sold year round, kept at the front of the checkout counter, a
formula less than 30 spf is a joke, and you wear it just to go to Circle K.
