Arizona is not a state; it’s a disease.
I didn’t come down with Arizona by sharing a needle or through unsafe sexual practices. I didn’t eat a tainted cantaloupe, or discover it at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. Nope, I was born with it. I lost the natal lottery in a Phoenix-based county hospital back in 1973. Still, I’m 38-years-old today, and I’m proud to say that Arizona hasn’t killed me yet.