You might remember them. McDonald's Happy Meals circa mid 80's. There were a series of 4 of them. Well, we had them. We had a bunch of them. It was a genius marketing campaign by the good ol' Mickey D's. Come and get a Happy Meal, get a mug. And this isn't your normal glass mug. Not that flimsy plastic shit. This is the real deal. Heavier than a Coke bottle and easier to hold in your hand than a glove. Classic beverage container.

I'd say we had about 6 of them, with doubles of a couple of them. They were cool. One was specifically mine. Another was my older sister's. The ugly one, my younger sister's. They were a part of my family's dining life. Breakfast with milk? Get Garfield on the kayak. Orange juice for lunch? Great! Garfield on the see-saw. Everyday. Every meal. Garfield, yo.

But after a while, the print started fading. I broke one when I accidentally dropped it into the sink. A year later, my younger sister accidentally throws one away. Next thing you know, we're down to one. The images are two-thirds faded. The fun disappeared. I loved those mugs. But I guess we all move on, right?

Then I look on eBay and find out that these things are being resold. I felt as if I met an old friend. Now that folks, is nostalgia. Not these trendy things like thse tin Knight Rider lunch boxes people are buying for 100 bucks. It's not a 200 dollar Skyfire Transformer that you probably won't even take out of it's box. This has *gasp* actual sentimental value.

And I'm going to buy them. When I see these on eBay, I won't even flinch to buy them. Fuck it. After I'm done typing, I'm going to search for them right away. And I'll buy them. And use them. And let my son use them. He may not appreciate these mugs the way I did when I was little, but that's not really the point. There's a sense of carefree innocence I feel when I see and think about these mugs. It's refreshing. Like the smell of freshly cut grass to an old baseball player or the feel of soft ballet shoes to a former ballerina.

Sometimes people say that it's nice to look back on the past, but to stay focused on the future. And truly, I believe that. But I think I'm going to let my guard down and let myself enjoy this one.

I think I deserve it.

That "Next Blog" button at the top right corner of my blog is a blessing and a curse all at the same time.



The Blessing: Hey, I'm bored. I can take a look at a few blogs I've never seen before. Hell, maybe I'll get lucky and get one of those naked women blogs that always seem to keep me busy. Or I might even find a blog that's as entertaining to read as Ultrablognetic or Muscle68 Ahhh, but no one is that lucky.

The Bad: 2 out of every 5 blogs you encounter have less than 2 posts, meaning blogs are multiplying by the second.

The Curse: Got damn some of these blogs are annoying as hell. And I'm not even talking about the writing. Granted, it can be argued by many that my writing is a waste of web space, but damn. Pages with pop-us, javascripts, scrolling text, blinking banners, crosshair cursors, etc. What the fuck? It's like they're attempting to make you forget that your reading someones shitty blog. It's nice knowing that 13 year old girls that look like boys in Singapore have a blog. But damn, I'm risking epileptic seizures just surfing through. To top that off, 2 out of every 5 blogs you encounter have less than 2 posts, meaning blogs are multiplying by the second. That means more are coming in the pipeline and on their way.

But the capper. The toppper. The thing that I really hate. Is....ShIt LyKe DyS. Yo. Kill that shit. Fast. Please. Now. If there is anything in the world that would keep me from reading anything, it is alternating capital and lower case letters. If I was the last man on Earth with a piece of paper saying who killed John F. Kennedy typed in alternating caps, I would die not knowning who killed JFK.


So surfer, beware. There's some crazy shit out there. It'll stun you. It'll surprise you. Some of it might disorient or nauseate you. Take heed. That button on the top right that says "Next Blog" isn't for everybody. Don't say I didn't warn you.

P.S. Yeah, I know. I just pulled some asshole shit right there. But I don't give a damn.

Nancy's awesome.

I know, it's kind of funny talking so highly about another woman that's not my wife or my mom, but our relationship is unique and well worth the mention.

We met in 1st grade. We were in the same class for 3 1/2 years in elementary school. We lived two blocks away, walking the same have home after school. Her and her friends on one side and myself and my sister on the other. We never really talked. I remember her as being the "really quiet girl" in class. I don't even remember her talking or laughing. She was just there. She recalls me as being loud and even louder. I think she's lying because I always thought that I was quiet when I was younger. But hell, given the present result, her story is more believable than mine.

In the middle of our 4th grade year, I ended up moving away to the suburbs. She stayed in the same place. To be quite honest, I never really missed any of my friends or old classmates after I left. I did keep in touch with a couple friends, first through letters, then by phone as I got to junior high and high school. But I never really thought about Nancy.

Well, one day during my senior year of high school while talking to one of the two friends I kept in touch with from my old school, Nancy's name came up. I really didn't much of it except for the fact that I recalled a specific incident where I witnessed her running in an unusual manner across the playground. She was running full speed forward, but her arms were glued to her sides like your typical nutcracker. The laugh I had after that recollection prompted my friend to suggest that I give her a call.

Well, long story not as long, I ended up calling her within the hour. And to my amazement, we had a really good conversation. It wasn't much different than your average "catch up" conversations you have with old friends you haven't seen in years. The thing that made it seem weird was the fact that we never were friends to begin with, but since we shared so many of the same experiences, we were able to carry on so smoothly. But the biggest impression I didn't realize until well after our initial conversation. The conversation was unlike any I've had with a girl at the time. There was no pressure from an attraction standpoint. It was purely platonic and 100% genuine.

I'm sure you can recall your high school phone conversations. Mindless bullshit banter about superficial issues like clothes and gossip. The conversation I had with Nancy wasn't even like that. It had *gasp* actual substance. We really hit it off and we spoke off and on for a while with me even going back down there to see her and hang out.

Later on, I ended up moving out of my parents' house and in turn lost touch with her. We hardly talked at all until literally last year where somehow we got back in touch with each other. I had the opportunity to meet up with her for dinner while waiting to pick up Ryan to land at Oakland Airport. We had a lot to catch up on being that we haven't spoken to each other in a good 5 years.

It was fun. It was refreshing. It felt so good telling her about how I have a son and a wife that I am in love with. It felt good hearing her tell me about her life and what she's been up to. It felt good telling her about the struggles I've been through and what I'm now doing to put my life in order. It felt good hearing about her struggles and her hardships and how she's overcome them one by one. But the best part of our meetings was the realization that we both genuinely cared for and respected one another , regardless of the lack of communication throughout the years. That's something that you don't get to witness with friends you see all the time on a regular basis. It's kind of like the whole "you don't appreciate what you have until it's gone" except different. You don't meet many genuine people throughout your lives. So it's cool to know that a person doesn't mind watching me eat raw oysters while I banter about how being married has changed my life for the best or how my son won't pee in the toilet.

So with that story told, if you ever get to read this, thanks Nancy. We may not speak to each other all the time. I know you're crazy busy. I know I'm crazy busy. But still, thank you for being one of the most genuine people I know. I have nothing but respect an appreciation for what you bring to the table not only to me but for everybody you encounter.

Inspired by Leah's little survey, I've decided to answer a few questions myself. Keep in mind, these aren't your typical 8th-grade-slambook caliber questions that are being answered. This is that good ship lollipop type shit. That relief after your morning pee type shit. That "Inside The Actor's Studio On Crack" shit. So sit back and read it. I guarantee you'll either love it, hate it, or think it's okay.

Name: Joe

Marital Status: Married

Sex: As Often As She'll Give It To me

Jack-off hand: Left

How Often Is It Used?: As Often As She Doesn't Give It To me

Funny Drug Story: I was completely drug free for a good portion of the last three years because I was keeping myself clean while I searched for a job. 2 years pass, I finally get a job, and they don't test me. Now I have extra brain cells I have no idea what to do with.

Not So Funny Drug Story: I have friends that have drug dependencies that probably don't even know it and it disappoints me and scares me all at the same time.

Favorite Alcoholic Drink: Captain Morgan and Coke

Favorite Person To Bother When Drunk: My Wife

Favorite Drunk Question To Ask: "Can You Suck My Dick?"

Least Favorite Drunk Answer To Hear: "No."

Sobering Fact: I have developed a dependency on alcohol to the point where I feel I can't have as much fun doing something if I'm sober as opposed to doing it when I'm drunk.

Random Educational High Note: I won my elementary school geography bee in 6th grade:

Random Educational Low Note: I lost and received 7th place in the spelling bee the same exact year after I misspelled "empty". (E......m.......t.....y.......empty)

Epiphany Of The Century: I am ultimately responsible for how I perceive and react to my environment.

Unnerving Realization Of The Month: A lot of parents aren't teaching their kids shit before they start school, resulting in an overall dumbing down of children because schools are being forced to cater to these dumb ass fucking kids.

Last Song I Slaughtered While Singing In My Car: Boyz II Men - "End Of The Road"

Blatantly Careless Statement of The Day: "Those dudes are assholes."

Greatest Thing On Earth: The fact that all these damn kids are finally back in school and not running aroud outside of my apartment shouting like Chicken Little in a hailstorm with vibrators in their asses 10 minutes past midnight.

Real Talk: Go find a real blog to read.

Creativity spawns creativity.

There was a time when Hip Hop music inspired a group of inner-city kids to manifest the music through bodily movement. The creation of b-boying, also known as "break dancing", marked the invention of the first and only true form of Hip Hop dance. The interpretation of of the beats were so powerful and dynamic, yet graceful and expressive. The dance movements expressed the hate, anger, and frustration of the ghettos of the South Bronx. Inspired by the likes of James Brown and Sammy Davis Jr., these kids harnessed their innate creative intelligence to create something that has lasted until present time, well over 30 years since.

But when you look at it from the most basic level, it was the music that inspired this creativity. Funk, Jazz, and Soul beats from artists like the Incredible Bongo Band, the Blackbyrds, and James Coffey served as the foundation for what we know as Hip Hop music. Throughout the years, Hip Hop music has evolved. And in turn, b-boying followed. The funky sounds of the 70's gave way to the Electric Funk of the early and mid 80's, and you saw b-boys dancing to synth-filled songs like "Egypt, Egypt", "Planet Rock", and "Don't Stop The Rock". And as the music changed, the dancing changed as well. Moves became more dynamic and the transitions from move to move became seemless.

But that's nothing new, really. As the music evolved, so did the dance. It's always been like this. Well, always until just recently. There's been an issue with stagnancy recently with Hip Hop music. Hip Hop music, or "rap", is no longer a subgenre of music that is liked and respected among the minority. Rap has now become "pop". B-boying on the other hand, has remained very underground, and good portion of the b-boying crowd has shunned mainstream Rap as going against "what it was meant to be", which is a voice for those in the ghetto who otherwise wouldn't have a voice. The bling and the materialistic nature of Rap has orphaned the b-boy scene, and now b-boys and b-girls can no longer identify themselves within a lot of the Hip Hip music "out there".

So with this stagnancy, Hip Hop has frozen in its place. The popular and most influential faces of Hip Hop music are to scared to create and innovate for fear of not sticking to what "sells". There are too many people to please when you are making millions of dollars. The need to maximize creativity has been replaced with the need to maximize record sales. Now b-boy events don't even play current Hip Hop music. The music that the b-boys dance to are the same breaks and beats that b-boys 20-30 years ago danced to. Now, it's time to make a move.

This doesn't spell the end for Hip Hop as we know it. Not at all. We're far from that. But it's just a demonstration of how the many aspects of the Hip Hop culture depend on one another. b-boys live and die off of Hip Hop music. They are inspired regularly by the music and take it very seriously that they are the bodily manifestations of the music they dance to. It's really time to evaluate what we have and what we can do to preserve it to ensure that our children and our childrens' children can enjoy this culture in the same manner that we do. Creativity spawns creativity. That's real. Money is fleeting.

Vita Brevis. Ars Longa.

Ain't That Right Boo?

And then just last night: the MTV Video Music Awards. First, what happened to Thursday night? It's ALWAYS on Thursday night, and I'd kind of assumed it was this NEXT Thursday. I guess this is what I get for not watching commercials anymore. And it turned out not to matter anyway: I accidentally happened across the VMAs and it took me all of 15 minutes to realize that this show was no longer meant for me, anyway. For the entire late 90s, I held on to the idea that the Cobain-theorized "10 Year Cycle of Rock" would be reprised, and Music Would Be Saved... but we're now a full 2 years past the projected Return of Rock, and MTV is still serving up nothing but a steady mix of cookie-cutter pop and not-much-more-creative rap/hip-hop. Want my Go Ahead I Dare You To Send Me Flame Mail Jackass Comment of the Day? How about "Usher is just like Randy Orton: pleasing to the eye for a certain percentage of the audience, but if not for a talented group of people around him to make him look good, he'd probably be in big trouble."

I hate you, MTV. I hate you so very, very much. And I hate you Kids for lapping it up with a spoon. And for swarming my bars and putting shitty music on the jukebox and making it impossible for those of us who'd been here All Summer Long to get a drink in under 10 minutes.

-Rick Scaia of OnlineOnslaught.com

It's kind of fucked up when you think how 1% of our population owns 95% of our weatlth.

It's no wonder why so many of us try scrape and claw our way out of the gutter. Some of us do it successfully through education, dedication, and hardwork. Many of the "Chosen One" catch a break or two. We're always either at the right place at the right time, or just plain wrong. It's really pretty simple. We get into a survivor mode where we must provide for ourselves and our families. But sometimes the desire to "move on up" like George and Weezy is pushed by a particular value that has become more important in a lot of peoples' minds across the board, regardless of ethnicity, creed, or social class.

We know all about the greed, money, and power that is flexed among the rich. We've all seen "Wallstreet" and "Boiler Room". Rich people are some of the most cutthroat muthafuckas on the planet. The rich want to get richer. They want to fan their feathers out and display their dominance over their domain. Our society promotes that. Our society exudes that. Status is all powerful and omnipotent. Forget what you learned in church. These cats would sell their souls to the devil for higher status.

But it's not just the rich people our our society that are affected. Remember, that's only 1% of our population. This lust for status has trickled down through the middle class and has taken a hold of our poor and impoverished. It gets grimy at the bottom of the barrel. Even at the bottom of the socio-economic ladder, there are people who shit on the next man in order to establish some sort of status-based superiority.

Wanna know the reason why white people seem to laugh at blacks?
Cuz brothers in South Africa slaving to death in diamond mines
Meanwhile, we spendin every penny to overshine
Tell the next nigga he lesser
Cuz he can't afford to buy ice from his oppressor
So now he pullin out nines, tryin to homicide me for mine
Meanwhile, George W. Bush got a war on crime



Ras Kass - "Golden Chyld"

This is a big issue with poor minorities. We shit on each other to feel better about our status. "At least I'm not as poor as him" has been a train of thought that has plagued our poor neighborhoods for years, but has been amplified even more in recent years. It's sad. It's disappointing.

And I'm not immune to it. I've caught myself looking down at the unfortunate. I've looked at my own poor Filipino immigrant and called them "fobs". I've played up the stereotypes of my own people as if I am better than them because of their less American lifestyle. It's all about maintaining your spot and kicking people down so, relatively speaking, you are "better".

That shit really has to stop. We really need to take responsibility for our actions as minorities living in a white society. We shouldn't be hating towards the next man or woman. We need to focus not on our personal status, but on the institutions that are currently in place that predispose us to failure. There is a reason why we make up for so little of that 5% left over from the pie. We need to make changes, not only in our actions, but in our minds.

Status is not the be all end all of life. What the next person thinks about you and your accomplishments are meaningless in the overall scope of your life.

The more you watch it, the funnier it gets..

Footlocker 30% Friends & Family Sale(Starts Tomorrow!!!)

Yeah, it sucks being Canadian, eh Leah?

Grace Under Fire

TaG: first day of work, rocket attack
D0NNIEVEGA: foreal?
D0NNIEVEGA: damn, dude
D0NNIEVEGA: where?
TaG: they were from baghdad
TaG: we were about to leave the barracks for work
TaG: and we heard the bangs
TaG: the guys that have been here said it was regular explosions that EOD do
TaG: but then we heard and felt a loud ass one
TaG: they were like "that's not normal"
TaG: then they all ran back into the building
TaG:found out it was rockets
TaG: and one struck about 100 yards from the hangar i am working at
TaG: my friend got pics of it, so once he puts them on the shared drive, i will send them over
TaG: today there was a controlled explosion that we did on base
TaG: i got a picture of the cloud it produced
D0NNIEVEGA: got damn
TaG: doesn't really bother me at all
TaG: i actually thought it was kinda cool
TaG: maybe cuz it hasn't hit me yet
TaG: not the rocket
TaG: just the feeling

LOL.....hurry home, Chris.

Take it, grab it by the neck, and shake. Step back, take a few breaths, and repeat. Sometimes, it's all gravy. Most times, it's all gravity. And what goes up definitely must come down. Just make sure you aren't under it when it lands.

This isn't Eden. This isn't utopia. And this sure as hell isn't perfect. This is life. Self-preservation is a basic instinct, but what is typical isn't always right. Remember when Sharon Stone uncrossed her legs and your eyes fixated on her crotch? Well, we all did the wrong thing. We should have been looking into Sharon's eyes. You know, the eyes so intense they could melt rocks. But yeah, it doesn't make sense, does it?

It's non-sensical. Without sense. Without logic. The closer I get to examine it, the faster it runs away. After I finally get close enough to take a look, I forget what I was looking at in the first place. Shapeshifting isn't a skill that can be taught. Chameleon's are everywhere. Sometimes you can even find them in the mirror.

Crazy, right?

This stuff is the truth.

It's easy to see how we as minorities are so disadvantaged in this white American society. We are literally the minority, and just like the natural occurrence in nature, there is power in numbers. We are told we are equal. But are we really?

I was watching "Tough Crowd" the other night, and was nearly infuriated with what I saw. Two of the panel members who were black were describing the little hints of racism they experience in their everyday lives. As they were explaining it, Colin Quinn was so quick to dismiss their claims, even pulling out your stereotypical "black" impersonation of a black man making claims of racism. His impersonation even elicited cheers and laughter from an obviously a white crowd. Now, I understand that it is a show on Comedy Central and was done for the hope of being humorous, but if you looked into the eyes of the two black panelists, you can tell that there was something else going on.

I was seriously upset at what was happening. Even considering the context of the situation, there was still this underlying message that I've been told before but never really acknowledged. White people really don't want to believe that there is still racism and will dismiss even the smallest complaint. Black people and minorities in general experience racism, no matter how small in amplitude, on a regular basis. It is only now that we are able to bring it up and complain. Now don't get me wrong. I'm not saying anything like "white people are all innately racist" or anything like that. It's just that there is this misconception that racism is a thing of the past. Even in the most liberal areas of the country, racism still runs rampant. From the streets all the way up the corporate ladder. It is so real in my life right now I couldn't' even begin to explain.

Now, people associate "complaining" over racial issues as unneeded. But that's not the case. Through complaining, we are raising awareness. We will not truly eliminate racism until everybody, white people included, acknowledge the fact that there is an issue. With all these people saying ,"oh, shut up about racism already. It's 2004 for crying out loud", it looks like we're still far from equality. I doubt I'll ever see racial equality in this white society with my own eyes. I doubt my kids or my grandkids will even see it. There's this train of thought that we're "almost there", but the blatant truth is that we're not. We're far from "there".

Ya heard?

BTW, right now, I have RJD2's "1976" on repeat.

We love control.

We love to drive. We love to hold the remote. We set personal boundaries all the time. We limit the amount we eat. We limit the amount we drink. We even limit the amount we sleep. It makes sense, though. Doesn't it? A lot of these limits are triggered by a sense of self-preservation. They protect us. They keep us content. They keep our environments normal and "safe". But I've started to notice tendencies in others that shows that maybe we limit ourselves in ways that are not always for the good.

I know I do it sometimes. We're scared of the unknown sometimes. The unknown and uncertain makes us feel unconfortable because we again lose control. We as humans don't like to know that what happens to us is really a roll of the dice. You want to know who's really full of shit? Meteorologists. They think they can predict weather. And anyone that follows the weather knows that these people are right maybe 2 out of 7 days of the week. Shit, I could do that well playing "Precipitation Twister". But I digress.

So what do we do? We control our environments. We stay in the same areas. We keep the same kind of friends. We happily make new friends similar to our current friends and avoid the types of people we've avoided for years. We eat at the same restaurants. We go to the same clubs. We approach and flirt the same women and men. We watch the same movies and tv shows. We surf the same websites. We become ritualistic in the truest sense and what's scary is that most of us don't even give it a second thought.

And it all boils down to having that control. Whether we like it or not, I think it's safe to say that most, if not all, people can relate in one way or another.

Comprehension is key, but I choose to read between the lines and continue to confuse the fuck out of myself.

We are told to speak our mind, but letting out all that dialogue is pointless when nobody seems to be listening. Do you listen? I'm not just talking about everyday interactive dialogue. I'm talking about discussions where opposing points are made and contentions are rationalized and justified. Do you really listen? Or are you just sitting their thinking in your head what you're going to say next? It's fucked up, because for most it's the former rather than the latter.

When people say they "agree to disagree", what's really going on? Is there really and understanding reached with the other persons' stance and/or opinion? Or have the two sides just reached a stalemate that has resulted in both sides shrugging their shoulders and throwing their hands up, agreeing on a peace treaty that will last until the next time the topic of discussion is brought up again, most likely under the supervision of beer or whiskey?

Communication is good. Sure. But comprehension is definitely key. Without comprehension, no compromise or improvement can be made. Discussions are pointless without this whole listening thing.

Sometimes I wish I could take some Tabasco and spice up the diction it create. Being literal isn't exactly what you'd call fun. More like fundamental, ya know? We are fascinated and impressed by those than can express things differently and creatively. A unique method of expression is interesting, entertaining, and enjoyable. On the other hand, the plain and bland is looked upon as inferior and boring.

Who wants to be that guy?

The guy that tells it exactly how it is? The guy that doesn't sugar-coat his verbal razors with euphemisms? Nope. No one. No one wants to be that guy.

Everybody wants to be colorful. It you don't stand out, you're not interesting, right? People gravitate to those that stick out from the rest. Maybe a blog writer that has a different way with words. Maybe the popular kid at school that dressed with the newest and most expensive clothes? There are so many external things that make people attractive. Unique. Desirable. Accepted.

I used to always want to stick out. I wanted to have all eyes on me. I wanted to be the guy that everybody knew for being different, unique, and funny. I wanted to talk in a colorful manner. I wanted to be accepted. I look back on who I was and what I wanted and my life and it was all about judging myself based on others' opinions of me. I identified myself through their eyes, and when I fell short of expectations, I hated myself for it. I was disgusted by myself. I had nothing if I had their acceptance. I felt into the crowd of the "normal". The mediocre. The *gasp* "regular". It was a rough part of my life because I didn't really stick out in the way I wanted to.

Well. Fuck all that. That shit is the past. It's easy to see how kids can be so superficial in high school. But I still see people my age and those well beyond my age that still seek the unique exterior without examining depth. Failing to see distinguishable detail among those that "blend in with the crowd" shows a level of superficiality that I can do without. But isn't everybody like that? Don't we all skim through books with covers that don't catch your eye, or not talk to people in the club that aren't exactly physically appealing.

Exterior is just that. Exterior. On the outside. SHALLOW. How many times have you brushed someone off or dismissed someone simply because they didn't "go against the grain" or the "blended in with the background"? It's fucked up now that I think about it. I've done many times in the past. And at the same time, being a person that's not so easy on the eyes, I've had it happen to me twice as many times. It's a part of life, ya know? But it's a part of life that I have learned to work on.

I'm trying. Slowly but surely. I'm trying.

If you don't know, now you know...

In the corporate world, loyalty is nothing and share value maximization is everything. I don't know why we always bitch and complain about our jobs when it's obvious that a content and happy employee environment is secondary tertiary to things such as maximizing the value of stocks for investors. Forget about the 4 years of dedication and selflessness of a loyal employee that hasn't experienced a raise since the day they were hired. The jobs working for minimum wage? Yeah, I could see why there is little to no loyalty in those jobs.

Working for minimum wages sends a pretty clear message to the employee.

"We would pay you less, but it's illegal." (Thanks Chris Rock)

I was under the impression that as soon as I got a job that would catapult me above the poverty line, I would find the employer loyalty that we all look for. Sure, we have co-workers that we enjoy working with. And there are those bosses that show a very high level of understanding and compassion for your needs as an employee. But the very bottom line is that unless you own the company you work for, the people who benefit the most from your work don't give a fuck about you unless the company meets and surpasses annual revenue forecasts.

I'm learning slowly, but surely. This isn't what I want to be a part of 5 years from now. You stay long enough in this environment and you lose a sense of selfworth, pride, and satiety. My drive to move ahead in life is not for my personal benefit but for the benefit of my family. Money is cool. We all want more money. But without my son an wife to share it with, it's all for naught.

So with that in mind, I press on. I can bitch, whine, and moan, all day. But just as long as I can come home to my family, I'll do whatever it takes. Even if it means subjecting myself to superficial pursuit of share value maximization.

I remember one of my instructors asking me why I wanted to marry my then girlfriend. Without missing a beat I said, "She's the only woman I've ever met that can take care of me like my mom did." My female instructor looked at me almost surprised at what I said. At the time, I really couldn't articulate why I really felt the way I did about my now wife.

Sometimes I get irritated with my wife when she does certain things that seem really selfish. I get irked when she comes out of the closet wearing clothes she just bought, even though we've had conversations about actually saving some money. I get even more irritated when she makes petty comments that a 17-year-old would say. Sometimes I get mad just because. But I've realized that for the most part she's just shut up and put up with all of my bullshit.

And believe me. There is a ton of my "bullshit" everywhere. My whining and complaining. My stanky underwear. My constant nagging and my father-like lectures about how she needs to do some things differently. She's taken care of me. She nurses me when I'm sick. She gives me a shoulder to cry on. She takes care of my son when I'm out getting drunk and acting a fool. Sometimes I forget about all the things she's sacrificed to make our family work, especially in those early days when we didn't think we could make it. We were young and grew up fast. If you know anything about my wife, she didn't have much of a childhood to begin with.

I'm a firm believer that opposites attract. I'm the ultimate selfish person and she is, in my eyes, one of the most selfless people I know other than my mother. And when I came to that realization, it all came together. She IS just like my mom. She IS just like my dad. She IS just like my grandma. These are people who have selflessly sacrificed to make my life easier. And just like my mom, dad, and grandma before her, I don't thank her enough for all that she's done for me. For us.

You're probably reading this thinking, "Man, he's just doing this so she can read it and he can get his dick sucked." And you know what? You're probably right. But long, sweat-inducing, butt-clenching, spine-tingling, dick-sucking aside, I'd say it anyway.

I promise.

"Most times, genius is misunderstood, but understand
You stand under unstable tables of foundation
My true occupation, dissemination of information
Usin' both sides of the brain, and I ain't complacent
Complain when I speak, fuck Priority Records
Like Prince, I'm writin' "slave" on my cheek, cause my kids gotta eat
Meanwhile A&R's sniffin' coke, gettin' kickbacks, fuck that
My written's like Christ wit a cross on his back
I'll breathe a total Black experience on a track
What use to be hot was what a emcee said
Now Hip-Hop don't respect you unless you platinum or dead"

- Ras Kass "Van Gogh"

The most satisfying thing about hearing on almost every news station that "Fahrenheit 9/11" was the #1 movie this weekend in the box office is watching these same dignified news anchors saying "White Chicks" is the 2nd movie on the list without even cracking a smile.

Beautiful.

I am totally digging the amount of discussion that Michael Moore's movie "Fahrenheit 9/11". I don't care if people agree. I don't care if people vehemently disagree. I just love the fact that it has sparked so much discussion, especially among the 24 and younger crowd. For Bush, against Bush, shaved, shit I don't care. Just as long as people start understanding the importance of this November, and every November for the rest of their lives.

I went to a wedding two weeks ago and I'm going to be part of a wedding next month. In August, I'll be attending another wedding. I like weddings. They always bring me back to when I got married. When you get married, you really take inventory in your relationship with your significant other. You question yourself no matter how sure you are, "Is this the right person?" I married my wife for all the right reasons and I can sincerely say that without a flinch. I can see the doubt and concern in the eyes of the bride and groom before the wedding, but it quickly changes to assurance and relief. You know it. They'll be okay. We'll be okay. It's love, ya know?

I walk around life sometimes marveling at all the knowledge I've attained in my 24 years of life. I stand proud and confident in my ways. But knowledge isn't what I'm ultimately after. Wisdom is what I pursue. And wisdom isn't acknowledging what you know, it's acknowledging what I don't know and taking every step needed to acquire that knowledge.

My son is so brutally honest sometimes. I love it. And he means no mal-intention what so ever. I think the term "brutally honest" makes it seem like everything should be sugar coated. Our dialogue with each other is filled with euphemisms, as if the truth will "hurt". Hell, there's even a saying that truth "hurts". But does it? Or are we too proud to acknowledge imperfection?

I hate tabloid tv shows like "Celebrity Justice" and "Entertainment Tonight" because it shows something pretty disturbing about our society. Not only do we put celebrities on pedestals to the point where we need their daily lives spoonfed to us on a daily basis, but we love seeing them crash, burn, and make mistakes. We build them up, then we tear them down. That shit sounds pretty damn demented, so I'm refusing to take part of it. Fuck a celebrity. I'd tell their mama they ain't shit.

I like good music. From Pantera's "Walk", to E-40's "Mustard and Mayonaise" to Nina Simone's "Funkier Than A Mosquito's Tweeter". I like raw breakbeats that hit so hard you can bare fight off the urge to brooklyn rock to it like Jimmy Castor's "It's Just Begun". I want shit that I can just bang my head to with guitar riffs so sharp that they can cut through glass, like Metallica's "One". I listen to songs that can tickle your heart by the time you hear the very first note like Troop's "All I Do Is Think Of You".
We take music for granted these days. It is, after all, the soundtrack to our lives. I can go to music to fill my heart and soul with emotion, or to find something that can articulate my feelings. From politics to partying, there is music for every moment of our lives. We associate good and bad memories with music. It's not coincidence. Music is a gift from God.

I can't stand it when people say that "It's just music." It's not. For the people who devote their lives to their music, it is literally "life". Fuck what your heard. There is a little bit of genius in every musical artist out there who put their heart and sole into their music.

Recognize. Learn. Respect.

No frills. No bullshit.

A conversation with Kool Keith on AIM today convinced me to just say "fuck you" to my hit counter, my comments, and my links. Well, okay. Maybe it wasn't just the conversation with Kool Keith. It was a combination of several things. Kristen over at Madpony decided to hang up the blogging boots for good, even leaving a "goodbye" post to all her "fans". Boo fuckin' hoo. Hell, I didn't even know until KK told me during our AIM conversation. I went over there to see the damage.

Reading through the comments, I was torn. I couldn't decide who I felt worse for. Was it the sorry ass readers who longed for the insight of a girl who's biggest problems consisted of the lack of Lime Diet Coke at her regular soda machine or her lack of money to go to a prom with another blogger across the country? Or, did I feel more sympathetic for Kristen, someone who was so gassed that in an AIM conversation with Muscle68, turned a snobby nose upward and asserted that the popularity of her blog was more than his and Raymi's. She obviously wrote with the sense that she was fulfilling an obligation to her readers. They wanted her to post. They needed her to post. They wanted to live vicariously through the lives of two girls who's dad had the fuckin' ovaries to be referred to as "Dadpony".

But damn, isn't that a shitty ass reason to write? I mean, that's not even about you anymore. This realization made me realize that I put to much stock in the feedback I received from the site. Feedback in the form of hits and comments and links became valuable to me for some reason. As if they validated the existence of my blog. But that's not what this is all about. This is about me. This is about me writing to me. This is about me writing about what's important to me. This is about me getting what I want out of writing. This is catharsis. This is healing. This is therapy. This is me.

So don't take it personally. The links, the comments, the hit counter? That was all cosmetic. Unnecessary. Unneeded. I can't lie an say that my blog was some underappreciated piece of genius like Ridley Scott's "Bladerunner". This blog was never popular. It was never genius. It never has nor will be. But it will still be here even after everybody stops reading it. If you come and read, cool. If you don't come. Cool.

No frills. No bullshit.

I had dinner last week with three old friends from high school. We all met at Applebee's, which was unusually crowded for a Tuesday night because of the second game of the NBA Finals. As groups of people huddled around the 3 or 4 televisions tuned in to the game, the three of us had your typical "catch-up" conversations that included topics such as our current occupations, recent gossip of people we knew in high school, and just over all bitching, pissing, and moaning about how we wished our lives were better in one way or another.

One conversation tangent led me to blurt out, "I fuckin'hated high school." This statement taken without the context of where my mind was at the time could be taken as a blatant lie. Because honestly, I loved high school. I was popular. I had the cute girlfriend. I was the funniest guy in class. I was on the baseball team. I was the student body activies commissioner. I was voted "most spirited" and was even listed as so in my senior year yearbook standing next to a cheerleader. But I look back on those years with a feeling that borders on disgust?

Why?

Well, it's really weird. There was this time in junior high where a lot of my friends turned their back on me, leaving me somewhat outcasted from my regular group of friends. By the time I got to high school, my fragile adolescent ego wouldn't let me come even close to feeling that way again. I literally worked on being popular and well liked. I went out of my way to be funny, clever, witty, and smart. I went out of my way to hang out with people that weren't "my friends", but people I thought could give others the impression that I was universally liked. I chased and achieved status in my high school. But as we all know, high school superlatives mean absolutely nothing.

I wrote once somewhere that high school is a cartoon version of real life. We spend a lot of that time thinking that we know it all, not realizing that we were living in a parody of reality. In high school, I thought I knew everything. I had everything under control. No one could tell me shit. I look back now, about 8 years after the fact, and I think about not only how much I've grown, but also how much I have yet to learn. I look back on high school and I'm almost disgusted by what I held as valuable and all the things I failed to recognize as valuable. I spent over 5 years of my life with my priorities all out of order and I hated my old self for it. Everything I thought was right was completely wrong.

But after I expressed my hatred for my high school years, I had to take a step back and thing about why I said what I said. This past year of college, I've done a lot of reflecting on my life and how much I've learned. I really can't dwell on what has happened in the past, because the past is obviously irreversible. I can only chalk it up as a loss and learn from my mistakes. It was then that I realized that maybe I didn't hate high school so much. And even if I do hate it now, it is only a reflection of my growth in the past years.

We are constantly growing, both intellectually and emotionally. Our priorities should always change, and if you don't look back a few years at the certain things you did wrong, you probably haven't growth enough to realize the errors you've made along the way. I look back on my high school years and I realize that my life was backwards. What was important to me back then really isn't important to me now, and vice versa.

That's okay. Sometimes you have to do some things wrong in order to do some things right.

We ended our dinner with hugs and promised to have a repeat engagement sometime in the near future. I drove home thinking about some of the good times I shared with those friends, and how we've all grown for the good.

Good times, I tell ya. With hopefully more to come.

Five minutes until midnight and I still can't figure out why I'm here.

It's been a long time since I've felt like this. A day in the sun is a day in the sun, but not many people choose to acknowledge the beauty. The horizon may seem cloudy, but we can't stress out about what might come. That's just a waste of time, and thoughts, and emotions.

Stop. Right there. At the period. Take a deep breath. All of us walk around with uneven suntans, but we don't always have to point out our dark sides. Be one one those people. You know, the kind that can enjoy what's on the table. The kind that doesn't cast shadows like a storm cloud. The kind that can illuminate a room with their presence and a heart with a simple smile. It doesn't take a lot, to be quite honest.

Do we take things for granted? Well, a lot of us do. But not many of even know what we have until they stop and acknowledge that things could be a lot worse. These people who walk around with their teeth clenched tight and their emotions clenched even tighter? Yeah, it could be worse for them, too. But they'd never know it. Because they're really not aware of what they really have. You want to know who knows what he really has?

Vanilla Ice.

I don't think he takes ANYTHING for granted these days.

We like to look reflect on our days as cowboys, carelessly roaming our Ponderosa without a worry in sight. We had people eating out of the palm of our hands as they hung on every over-annunciated word we spoke. Good looks are a dime a dozen but charm and charisma are things most people wish came in air-tight jelly jars. Our smile? Golden. Hollywood status. Camera's loved us and people loved us even more. Who needs a camera when our gait alone was cinematic? Life was easy.

And those were the days. No scrutiny. No second guessing. No trying to read between the lines or uncover secret motives. Life was simple and all we had to do was wave, smile, and live another day. It's kind of crazy how things can change. It's rough going from beloved to beloathed. But that's the nature of the beast. That's what we sign up for. There is no grey area in what we do. Either you do it or you don't.

So we've come to the end of the road. The part where we always thought we'd ride off into the sunset, just like one of those old cowboy films. We crack a smile at the camera, hop on our horse, say one last cliche line, and fade to black. But we see that that is not the case. It's hard to end this in the storybook manner. But it's over. Just like that. And it's kind of hard to rest in peace when peace was the last thing on our minds.

Michael Moore's new movie "Fahrenheit 9/11" comes out on June 25. It was the winner of the Palme D'or at this years Cannes Film Festival. Although many people may remember him from his outburst at the Oscars speaking out against the Bush administration, many people have not watched any of his previous films including "Roger & Me" and "Bowling For Columbine".

A lot of people have discredited Moore with the obvious fabrications, bending of the truth, and sometimes the blatant lying that he has done. But there is no denying that he provides a different perpective than the spin-doctored bias in the US media. This alone is what draws me into his work. I watched "Roger & Me" in high school, but I think it's safe to say that I really didn't understand the weight of what I was watching. I watched "Bowling For Columbine" two years ago, and I was absolutely blown away. A different and new perspective on a world I thought I had figured out got my interests stirring.

For a good portion of my life, I've watched TV with little to no skepticalism. Especially the news. The news was news and that's all I really had to think about. It took it at face value never really looking deeper into why things are portrayed the way that they are in the media. I never took into account the many people who would gain (or lose) from how something was presented. I never understood how news coverage can influence the train of though of an entire society. With "Bowling For Columbine", I witnessed the part of the news that's not covered. It was all the stuff I wanted to wonder about but didn't have the mind to.

But it's different now. There are people like Moore who are taking risks to portray our country in a way that was not and isn't deemed as acceptable. People see him as a threat to everything this country is about and is taking advantage of unfortunate situations such as the war and the Columbine incident for his own personal gain.

But wait. Isn't that what ALL forms of the media do? Why is Michael Moore being criticized and chastised for what he does? How is what he does different than what CNN, MSNBC and all these other news entities?

Well, unfortunately, it's not. It's not different. Everybody has something to gain from something and we can not trust any one news source. We cannot judge our countries standing in the world because we are biased by our own opportunites to gain and lose.

You know the deal. I'm not into politics. But whatever. I don't like anything political nor do I like discussing it a lot. I don't make friends based on political lines. I don't shit on people who hold different political values. I just vote and have my say and pray everything turns out okay.

Bottom line, I just want the truth. I use this figure all the time:

[Michael Moore]------------[The Truth]--------------[US Media]

It's out there. Somewhere. Give me a heads up if you find it.

It takes a different kind of asshole to post a blog while sitting on the toilet. But at this moment, I'm doing just that. This whole wireless Internet looked like something I can get very used to. With the purchase of a new notebook computer on Memorial Day (thanks to a relatively low price and two very generous rebates offered by CompUSA and HP), my suspicions were confirmed.

I had a pretty excellent weekend for once in a long time. After finishing my workweek at 5am on Sunday morning, I went home and slept for a good hour and a half until my wife woke me up so we could get ready for the Giant's game at SBC Park in San Francisco. Sunday's game had a special "On-Field Photo" day, where about 3000 fans who had tickets for the day's game were able to go on the field prior to the game and take pictures with their favorite Giants.

It was a really good time. It was my 2nd On Field Photo Day in two years, so I wasn't as shy asking the players to stop and take a few pictures. It was my wife's first time and I think the sight of seeing men in uniforms made her wet. She was so excited to stop the players for a picture, then after taking the picture she'd proceed to ask me who she just took a picture with. It was great. Interestingly enough, about every picture she took with a player looked like a boyfriend/girlfriend shot. Funny stuff.

That night, we came home and I bitched about how little sleep I got and my wife bitched about how she thought she was sunburned. We did find out that night that we were able to watch the fireworks displays that Six Flags Marine World (the theme park where I met and worked with my wife 6 years ago) puts on from time to time over Lake Chabot. It was a pretty decent sight just below the horizon where you could see the remnants of what was a beautiful sunset. The scene was so great I had to take a picture of it and it was also a great way to end the day. That night's sleep was much needed after what seemed like three days wrapped into one.

Memorial Day itself was rather uneventful. Other than my impuslive purchase of a laptop, we decided to have a family night and enjoyed it at home. Best day of the weekend, easily.

I don't play that shit.

I don't give a fuck if your life sucks.
I don't give a fuck if you think my life sucks.
I don't give a fuck if you take pictures of yourself with a cock in your ass.
I don't give a fuck about how many hits your blog gets.
I don't give a fuck about who you met.
I don't give a fuck about where you live.
I don't give a fuck if your dumbass worries about being recognized from your blog.
I don't give a fuck about the weather in your area.
I don't give a fuck about what your kid said.
I don't give a fuck about what you bought.
I don't give a fuck about what you wore.
I don't give a fuck about who you fucked.
I don't give a fuck what you did yesterday.
I don't give a fuck about your vacation.
I don't give a fuck about how high you got or how much alcohol your drank.
I dont' give a fuck if Tony Pierce linked you.
I don't give a fuck if you got molested.
I don't give a fuck if he hit you again.
I don't give a fuck when you live.
I don't give a fuck when you die.
I dont' give a fuck about you.

I don't give a fuck whether or not you give a fuck. You know why? I don't need to you validate my existence. I can only hope that the feeling is mutual. But honestly, I don't give a fuck. Fuck a blog. Fuck you.

Take that shit personally.

I woke up this afternoon and flipped on the television to the Cosby Show. Dreary-eyed, I half-watched the episode where Dr. Cliff Huxtable took Rudy, "Buuuuud", and a bunch of other kids to a gourmet restaurant to have some gourmet burgers. "Mmmmmm, burrrgeers." Inspired, I decided to take a trip to one of the better burger joints in town before I went to work.

I as I pulled up to Bud's Burgers, I could already smell the aroma left by a day's worth of cooking burgers and frying french fries. I parked in the empty parking lot, jumped out of my car and headed to the restaurant. Well, maybe "restaurant" isn't descriptive enough. You see, Bud's is really located in a glorified shack. The place is about the same size as a quaint one bedroom apartment and the dining area is no larger than your average living room. I walked in and noticed that the brown wooden tables are still set up exactly as I remembered. I looked up to the high vaulted wooden ceiling that probably measures about 20 feet at it's highest point. The Bust-A-Move arcade is still located adjacent to the walk where the entrance was. Directly behind it is an old Flintstones egg dispensing machine, exactly like the ones they had in Toy R' Us's across the nation circa 1985. Next to that was your typical "love meter" that measures your libido for 25 cents. Bottom line, the place was pretty shitty compared to the Pot Belly Burgers and Nation's of this world. But you should know the rule by now: The shittier the place, the better the food. Warning: This rule strictly applies to authentic Mexican food and burger joints.

As I ordered, I couldn't help but notice all the little things about the restaurant that I became very comfortable with back in high school. Bud's was the typical hangout spot for the me and the rest of the varsity baseball players at my high school. Regardless of whether we won the game or not, we were all able to go to buds and just talk. Sometimes it was just two of us, and sometimes there were 9 or 10 of us. It was a place to unwind and forget about any type of resposibility. We talked openly without having to worry about reprecussions. Sometimes I would look more forward to the aftergame meeting at Bud's instead of the game itself.

Being in there gave me an eerie feeling at first, but the place offered a sense of nostalgia that was both refreshing and relaxing all at the same time. When I got my order, I asked for a ketchup bottle, just like I did back then. As the young lady handed me the bottle, I felt the same greasiness on the bottle that I felt back then. I sat down and squeezed about a cup of ketchup on the wax paper covering my plastic orange tray just like I did back then. And for the first time in a while, I just sat there alone with just my thoughts and my memories and enjoyed my food.

When I finished up, I threw away my trash, put my tray in the same old place right next to the spot where I left the ketchup (in it's proper place as well). I said thank you to the young lady who served me my food as I walked passed her while she mopped the floor. She smiled back and I almost uncontrollably cracked a smile as I approached my car. It was nice to spend some time in a place that I associate with such good times. Good memories stay with you forever, you know?

It was a beautiful day, that's for sure.

Okay, this is the last straw. Parents are fuckin' up. It's officially official (with a stress on the redundancy). I've been saying for years that even though our children are obviously over-sexualized by the media, parents need to take responsibility for their children and raise them correctly. This is not a product of the media. This is not a product of anything other than parents (or parent) not teaching a child the difference between wrong and right. As basic as the concept may seem to us adults, it still isn't happening in today's homes. I mean, WHAT THE FUCK?

I'm almost not even shocked. I was chatting with Leah the other night and she was telling me how her friend or cousin or somebody was a kindergarten teacher, and how she was appalled to hear about kids making out in class. I can't believe that this isn't national news.

Oh fuck it. I lied. I'm shocked. This shit is crazy. I'm going to go reread Revalations to see if this 5 year old dick sucking is in there. Are you ready to die?

(Props to my boy Anthony for the link.)

Damn, this one sucked....click only if you're REALLY bored. And if you can't sleep, you might want to click this too....

I've been getting the feeling that I've been getting hits from people who've accidently wandered onto my site in search of something completely different. Instead of finding what they were looking for on the World Wide Web, they unfortunately stumbled onto this piece of shit. I decided to take a look at my referrals in my lame hit counter to see who was coming from where and why. To my amazement, I found this:

And as my wife knows, I hate leaving people disappointed. So I've decided to help people out. I will give the people what they want. You're searching for it? I can help you. Come one, come all!

Let's start off with #1. We have someone that has searched for "fat kirsty alley picture". We all know Kirsty from the "Look Who's Talking" movie series, "Cheers", and more recently on "Veronica's Closet". I did a search on google and I came up empty. So, I have to disappoint the fans of the new and improved fat Kirsty Alley. No dice. But I promise that this will be the last time I disappoint those in search of Utopia on the Internet.

#2 in our diagram shows that someone is looking for the first name of rap star, Chingy. Well, I won't leave you Chingy fans hangin'. Chingy's real name just happens to be Howard Bailey Jr. That's some shit right thurr. But since you're here checking out my site for Chingy shit, let me put you up on some knowledge: Chingy is wack. Go listen to some real music instead of puttin' money in the pockets of a weak ass rapper. I know I'm here to help the needy, but you need to open people's eyes sometimes. People get caught up in that TRL/106 and Park hype and start wildin' out. But I digress.

For numbers 3, 4, and 5, we have a group of people searching for "guys jacking off pictures". Well, I've been there. It's late. You haven't had any lovin' in a long time. You're home with nothing to do but surf the web for pictures of guys jacking off. It doesn't hit any more rock bottom than that. But I'm here to help you all out. Here is what you've come for. When I say I'll deliver the goods, I'll deliver. So for all of you guys and gals looking to getting into some great pictures of guys jacking off, here you go. It's on the house...

Was it as good for you as it was for me?

I remember an old Saturday Night Live commerical skit that featured Kevin Nealon and Victoria Jackson sharing the most intimate of moments sitting on a dual toilet seat. It was so memorable because I felt that it literally is a very personal and intimate moment that most don't share with anybody else. I don't think there is any other time where a human is so vunerable as when they are sitting on the toilet releasing a bowel.

There is nothing more personal than the time spent sitting on the toilet and taking a dump. It's probably the only thing I can be doing except jacking off where I would be really embarassed if my wife walked in on me. I mean, this is the same women who picks my whiteheads and has seen my penis up close and personal. But I am still embarassed when she comes into the bathroom while I'm dropping the kids off at the pool.

Isn't it kind of odd? I mean, we all do it about once a day. It's part of our everyday lives and our fuctions as a living organism? So why does it seem so private and taboo? Why is it so disgusting to talk about? Why are we so sensitive to something that all animals do?

The answer?

We are in love with taking a dump. Dropping a load is associated with such relief and pleasure that it, like sex, is something that we choose to keep private and to ourselves. Think about it. Our pants our down around our ankles. We're sitting down, concentrating hard on the task at hand. Hell, some people read or smoke to keep their minds elsewhere. Afterwards you have to clean up, but some people refuse to wash their hands.

DOES THIS NOT SOUND LIKE SEX FOR SOME PEOPLE?

So that brings me back to that old SNL skit. A couple. Sitting together at the toilet. Sharing a "moment". It's really not that far off from reality. Sharing the a moment where you two drop a bomb together really is the next level in an exclusive relationship. Can't you see that?

Okay, maybe it's just me. I don't know. Forget it. Forget I said anything.

Tales Of A 9th Grade Nothing

I was pleasantly surpised last week when I received a phone call on my cell phone from an old friend. It's been almost two years since I've seen her, and just as long since I have spoken to her. It was admittedly refreshing having such a long "catch up" conversation with her because we were such good friends in the past. This led me to think about how our relationship came to be the way it was and why she was and is so special to me, even if we haven't been speaking as regularly as I'd like to. So here's that story. It's not funny nor ironic. It's just something I like reminiscing about. Great friends are made of this.

We both attended the same elementary school, but it wasn't until junior high when I met her. I was in 8th grade and she was in 7th. Her older brother was in the same class year as my older sister and they were friends. So I knew about her before I really met her face to face. What started out as an odd and awkward (I remember showing up at her house once unexpectedly with my sister and she ran to her room and refused to come out)friendship developed into your stereotypically junior high friendship where most of our interaction happened on the phone. I'd talk to her about the girls I liked. She'd tell me about the guys she liked. We just talked, ya know?

9th grade rolled around something weird happened where I became very attracted to her. Not the petty "God damn she's gorgeous" attraction typically defines girlfriend/boyfriend relantionships at that age. It was different. I was so attracted to her mental and I didn't know how to deal with it.

My first reaction was to automatically tell her how I felt, not even thinking about the possible disruption it would cause to our existing friendship. So during one of our late night, post homework phone conversations I just blurted it out. She was literally shocked. She was admittedly a "late-bloomer", and I could tell that what I told her made her completely uncomfortable. It was obvious that she wasn't ready to be with me or anybody else for that matter. So I took a step back. She ended up explicitly stating that she wasn't ready for anything at the time, and I understood. Interestingly enough, we maintained the same "friendship" we had before I dropped the bomb on her.

A few months rolled around and we're still friends. One day during one of our daily 3 hour long phone conversations, she blurted out words I remember 'til this very day: "I'm Ready". Mind you, at the time Tevin Campbell had an album out called with the same exact name, an album that either she bought me or I bought her, hell I can't remember. Well, it was super cliche and I swear to God I'm not making this up. So, that nightwe were officially boyfriend-girlfriend in every sense of the word in junior high.

Now, like I said before she was a late bloomer. By the time we got "together", she was my 4th girlfiend and although I wasn't having sex, I was a little more advanced on the physical aspects of boyfriend-girlfriend interaction. My idea of what a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship entailed was slightly different than hers. I can remember how awkward it was that first day back at school after we were official. We just stood there. I was holding my backpack. She was holding her's. And we just stood there. With zero to talk about.The bell rang and we had to get back to class. And I extended my arms to at least get a hug. She kind of half reached out and we gave each other the worst hugs in the history of hugs in the galaxy. I mean, I've seen armless people give better hugs.

But I didn't really think much of it later that day. After school, she came up to me and gave me a letter and slide it into my pocket and told me to read it later. I got home that night feeling pretty good. I had a girlfriend and I loved talking on the phone with her. Unusually, she didn't call me when she normally did, so I gave her a call. When she answered, she seemed hesistant.

"Umm, is everything okay?" I asked.

"Uhhh, yeah. Did you read the letter I gave you?"

"Aww, no. I totally forgot about it."

"Well, take a look at it. Look, I gotta go now. I'll talk to you later."

"Umm, okay."

"Bye."

"Bye".

So, I ran upstairs, picked up my jeans and grabbed the letter out of my pocket and read it. As I read it, my heart immediately sunk. It was a break up letter. A fuckin' breakup letter. I couldn't believe it. It basically said something along the lines of "I guess I'm not ready" type stuff, and the most awkward hug ever pretty much sealed the deal. Pathetic, I know.

Well, even after all that we still remained friends through high school, where it culminated in me pretty much organizing her 18th birthday celebration ceremony on the fly a day before it happened and having it executed flawlessly. She was beautiful that night and I'll never forget it. That night, I couldn't help but think about her being the first girl who I knew I liked (dare I say "loved") for everything she was as a person, not strictly on what she looked like. I remember just standing there watching the event unfold and practically kicking myself that I let her get away. She was obviously a catch but was taken by another guy at the time. That, along with all the obvious personality differences among other things made me realize that she was never meant for to keep, but was meant to meet. She was the girl that taught me to look further than the exterior and find someone that can stimulate you not only physically, but mentally as well.

She's a special woman, and with this phone call last week told me that she was getting married. I could be nothing but happy for her because I know she is capable of finding a great guy, and I also know that she's going to make this guy very, very, happy.

We meet people for a reason, ya know? And if you notice that your paths keep crossing in a positive manner, God has blessed you with their presence for a reason. So, this is my official "thank you". Thank you God for allowing me to meet such a special person. Thank you to Che Che for being that special person.

I hope you read this. Congrats on the engagement and I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world.

It's been 9 days since my last blog, and quite honestly I haven't felt like writing. In addition, there have been numerous newsworthy occurrences throughout the past week that one thousand and one other blogs have already covered. So I never really felt the need to say anything. And most importantly, life has been relatively uneventful and I'm very happy, so there really isn't anything to bitch about. But there are a few things I'd like to talk about.

We have the beheading of a contractor by supposed Al-Quaeda militants. Then shortly there after, the CIA conspiracy theories regarding the beheading. Either way, it fucking sucks. Let the man rest in peace for cryin' out loud. I don't have the nerve to even watch the video myself. I just don't see any reason to, ya know?

What else? Ahh,yes. Latoya was given the boot on American Idol. People are screaming racism. People are screaming controversy. I don't give a fuck. It's whatever. People really need to take American Idol for what it is. It is NOT a talent show. It is NOT reality television. It is something that someone thought would bring in ratings. And you know what? They've succeeded. The biggest slap in the face to any aspiring musical artist that is known as American Idol has crumpled more panties in a bunch than your grandma. I don't even watch it and I'm writing about it. Genius marketing strategy.

On a similar note, I've seen commercials on WB regarding a spoof on American Idol where they purposely select the unskilled and untalented, which obviously equal ratings. As if we weren't sick enough of UC Berkeley's William Hung, WB has decided to bring forward hundreds of wannabe singers that "haven't had any professional training". They even have a fugazi ass Simon to berate the "contestants".

MTV, the real leader of the Free World, won't be left behind. They are also promoting an upcoming series with the same "fake reality" concept. Since it's obvious America is no where near sick of Punk'd,Fakin The Video picks up the ball and hobbles with it. Will I watch it? Probably not. Anyone who knows anything knows that Sci-fi Channel's Scare Tactics is better than everything else in the prank/hidden camera genre. Just the fact that MTV is behind such a show is enough to convince me it will suck.

So here I am once again, sitting on the fence in regards to reality television. I don't watch a lot of it, but I can't stop talking or complaining about it. Maybe our society is hooked on watching "reality" because we're all filled with shit in our own lives. I mean, we might as well live vicariously through the "real" lives of reality show cast members, right?.

Well, if that's the case, I got first dibs on Puck.

I've been on this weird ass introspective tip lately and fuck me if I'm going soft. Shit ain't the same anymore. I don't walk around mad at the world anymore because the world hasn't done shit to me. Lady Luck was my bitch for a minute, but I got too old to depend on her shady ass. No need to bend her over because she is no longer in service.

I ran into this cat at Longs the other day that I used to want to beat the fuck up. He was still short and walked with the same limp. Yup, that same annoying ass limp. He nodded "wussup", so I nodded back. He extended his hand and I gave him a pound. At first I didn't recognize him, but he obviously recognized me. So I say the usual "Ay, mayne. Whatcha up to these days?" Turns out he's doing the school thing. "Right on", I responded. As he walked away, I realized, "What the fuck am I what up to this bitch?" 5 years ago and I probably would have slapped the fuck out of him. Now I'm trying to "catch up" with him, as if I really give a damn. Good lawd, I'm gettin' soft.

Y'all see the "intelligent" Joe all the time. All this smart talk and this "deep" stuff? That's not me on the surface. The surface is what most see. You can find me at the local basketball court, talking using the latest slang and uncontrolled profanity. And I know most of y'all don't want to see me drunk. There's nothing like a drunk fat ass Filipino dude describing his favorite sexual position. I got a darkside like an uneven suntan, and that shit ain't pretty.

Fuck this soft shit. I'm gonna go listen to some Tupac and knock some old grandma down a flight of stairs with a dead baby seal filled with white spotted owl feathers.

I used to have this recurring nightmare when I was younger. Maybe from when I was 8 to about 14 years old. It didn't happen all the time. Only once or twice a year, but it was just frequent enough for me to realize that it was reoccuring.

In my dream, there was just a large white marble. Like, huge. Like, ginormous. And as the dream when on, it would slowly start to move. I couldn't see myself in the dream, nor was the point of view from my vantage point. I just had this feeling that I needed to stop it from moving, maybe through sheer will. I felt helpless against this marble and it was totally out of my control. It wasn't until recently why I realized that that marble, of all things, happened to be my reoccuring nightmare instead of your usual "oh shit, someone is coming to kill me" type nightmares.

I'm positive I have control issues. I mean, not just control of people or situations, but control of everything in my environment. When I was younger, I used to count the rungs on the footboard of my bed. Over and over again, I'd count them with my feet until I fell asleep. I have to drive everywhere I go because I cannot stand not being at the steering wheel. I am totally anxious on airplanes because I fully understand that my life is in the hands of a man(or woman) that I don't even know. In my first few years of college, I used to go to sleep watching either Happy Gilmore or Pulp Fiction because I knew those movies so well, I knew I wouldn't miss anything if I happened to fall asleep watching them. This shit is almost scary.

I don't think it's really that bad, nor do I think it affects many people. It's become a character trait of mine and I'm sure it's something that my wife is well aware of by now. It just made me giggle the other day thinking about my reoccuring "nightmare" and how silly it might sound to other people, but in the context of my life it makes perfect sense. I don't think many people are as introspective as I am. Maybe the amount of time we spend reading other peoples' blogs could be spent on more worthwhile things, such as reading your own blog and getting to know yourself.

Chatter Box Chatter

The Friends series finale was on tonight, and as expected I didn't watch it. I can't say that I'll miss it now that it's gone. I've watched a few episodes through out the years. Maybe enough to count on my fingers and toes. I can admittedly say that I did laugh the few times that I did watch it. But I can't say I remember any particular episode. I can remember the naked neighbor. I can remember Joey's "How you doin'?". Now that I think about it, I remember that one episode where Ross dammit, Chandler and Phoebe pretend to be attracted each other until Chandler realizes that he can't do it and finally admits that he loves Monica.

Wait, is that recollection even correct? Ah, who gives a fuck? It's over. Boo hoo. Either way, it will always play second fiddle to Seinfeld in the world of "Must See TV". Hell, I'd rather watch reruns of Married With Children than Friends.

And on the same wavelength, I can only think of a few television series' that I was sad to see go. The one that stands out most in my mind is my all-time favorite sitcom, The Wonder Years. As I know I've mentioned before, I related to Kevin Arnold more than any other fictional character on television. The girlfriend. The hard-nosed father. The annoying best friend. I WAS Kevin Arnold. But I don't think a good portion of America related as well as I did. I can't find reruns of this show anywhere.

Nickelodeon was pretty good at showing reruns a few years back, but have since cut it out for their new Nick At Nite line up that includes Cheers, Roseanne, The Cosby Show, etc. Bitch ass ABC Family used to show it at Noon during weekdays but have since replaced it with a less enjoyable episode of Full House. I mean, sure. Capitalize on this whole Mary Kate and Ashley thing. But dammit, don't do it at the cost of dropping excellent, and dare I say, classic television.

But classic is after all classic. It's in the past. There really isn't anything out there that I can say I've latched onto in the same manner. I know I haven't. I know a lot of people felt the same way after the Seinfeld finale, which I have to mention ended on such an anti-climactic note. The finale of Friends is probably going to be the same for their die-hard viewers. But that's it. There really isn't anything there anymore. Other than Frazier, can you think of a "spin-off" that came even close to matching the success of it's predecessor? The Jeffersons? Laverne and Shirley? Not quite. I guess they can always enjoy the reruns and their Season DVD's. I just hope I don't hear about people crying over this shit.

It's not that serious. I mean, it could be worse. Imagine the last season of Saved By The Bell with a bunch of late 30 somethings. *Wretch*

I feel uncomfortable speaking about the racial dynamics in American society, but I've been reading a lot about racial-inequality and examining how I feel about ethnicity and living in a predominantly white society. We no longer live in a world of segregation where black people cannot ride in the front of the bus or where the Japanese and Koreans are treated like shit working in the agricultural fields of California. But there are many racially charged issues that do affect minorities that people refuse to acknowledge. It may not be government instituted programs or racially based hiring practices. It is accepted trains of though that not many people choose to see. We as Americans are in denial of the fact that although the institution of blatant racism may not be as prevalent as in the past, it is still strong enough to be oppressive.

This is not a call for help or a call for action. This is acknowledging something that has been here for years and still remains 'till this day. As a minority, living in a white society is hard.

I used to hate my skin. I was so fuckin' dark. My hair was too black and boring. My nose was so flat. I used to spend hours a day pinching my nose so that I could have a more prominent and "acceptable" nose. I remember in 3rd grade when Gregory Roberts called me "fish lips". I wasn't even mad at him. I was mad because I looked into the mirror and I saw what he saw. I wasn't what was considered "attractive". I wasn't like him: blonde hair, blue eyes. He was the epitome of what was widely accepted as "good looking". I felt the same way. TV at the time wasn't as nearly as diverse as it is now (even though it still isn't as diverse as it could be). There was no one on television that I could identify with. Everything, whether if it was on television, the movies, my classmates, all of them agreed that white was beautiful. Go to every church and Jesus was white. Every respected major government official was white. Everything and everybody that is white is "right". So I'd look at myself in the mirror and know that I was not "right".

I see it everywhere in my culture. If you spend any time watching Filipino television, you would realize how many stars strive to take on the traditional Western ideas of beauty. The dark Filipino is looked down upon as a savage. The half-white half Filipino mestizo is looked upon as beautiful and star worthy. It is not unusual for Filipina women to put astringent on their faces to "lighten" them up or to bleach their hair into a disgusting orange in order to whiten themselves up. You live in a self-deprecating mode like that and you're bound to cause some long lasting effects within your culture. You spend enough time shitting on yourself and the next thing you know you're wallowing in shit.

This self-deprecating train of though has followed Filipinos (and other immigrants, for that matter) to the United States. New Asian immigrants are forced to speak English with their untrained tongues and are chastised for their accents. They are called "FOBS" and made fun of for holding on to aspects of their original cultural. Hell, I did tons of it in jr. high and high school. We are so content and proud of our American culture when it is a culture that would rather do without us. From the start, we have been fed by our parents, by our friends, by the media, and by society as a whole that anything that deviates from this white society is undesirable. Guess what? People are still buying into it. It sucks because it's been like this for so long and no one wants to acknowledge it. They would rather believe that thanks to the civil rights movement of the 60's, everythign is just fine and dandy. Well, it isn't.

I used to be irritated by black militants who were still complaining about how racist American (and Western) culture still is. I was a doubter. I wasn't convinced that black people were having a hard time stopping cabs in New York City. I wasn't convinced that black people were being blatantly overlooked in job hirings. It wasn't until I realized how black people, and minorities in general, are subjected to so many levels of discrimination, from not only others, but from within their own ethnic groups. It's funny, because most of the people who say that the days of racism and discrimination are over are white people. They laugh and scoff at those who say they are being treated unfairly because of their ethnicity. "Not in today's society" These are the same people that believe Affirmative Action is unneccessary. They wouldn't understand how young black kids are treated unfairly in class and are not given the opportunity to flourish because of teacher's prejudice. The chances are stacked against so many minorities. Some people would never understand that. Unless you have walked in their shoes, you cannot truly understand their plight. It would be similar to a man saying he understands the pain in childbirth. He would never really know.

This isn't a "hate whitey" post. It's not about that. It's acknowledging the fact that American society still has a long way to go in creating a truly equal society. It's going to take years upon years to deprogram all the hate and the bigotry and the prejudice that has brainwashed the American society for hundreds of years. This isn't"playing the victim". You know how much I hate "victims". But if you see this as me playing the "victim", you're caught in the web as well. It's there, yo. Believe me. It's there.

But yeah. Whatever.

I would suggest downloading this song and listening along while reading the words. I don't fully agree with what Ras Kass says, but a lot of it is for the most part, true. I know I've suggested this before, but oh well. Open your mind a little, even if you are offended.

Artist: Ras Kass
Album: Soul On Ice
Song: Nature of the Threat

Let freedom ring with a buckshot, but not just yet
First we need to truly understand the nature of the threat
And a pale man walks in the threshold of darkness
Roughly 20,000 years ago the first humans evolved
with the phenotypical trait, genetic recessive
Blue eyes, blonde hair and white skin
Albinism apparently was a sin to the original man, Africans
So the mutants traveled North of the equator
Called Europeans later, the first race haters
So here's the Devil's alpha to the beta
Cause history's best qualified to teach one
Quoting German philosopher Schopenhauer
"Every white man is a faded or a bleached one"
Migration created further mutation
Genetic drifts, evolution through recombination
Adaptation to the climate
As the Caucus Mountain man reverted to that of a primate
Savage Neanderthals, until the late Paleolithic age
That's when the Black Grimaldi man came
With the symbol of the dragon, fire and art
Check cave paintings in France and Spain to the Venus of Willendorf
Around 2000 B.C. Southern Russians migrate in small units
Those who travel West populated Europe
Those who went East settled in Iran, known as Aryans
1500 B.C. some crossed the Khyber Pass into India and
created Hinduism, the first caste system, the origins of racism
A white dot on the forehead meant elite
The black dot - defeat; untrustable, untouchables
They wrote the holy Vedas in Sanskrit
That's the language that created Greek, German, Latin and English
Now the Minoans around 2000 B.C.
Starts on the island of Crete, in the Agean Sea
The Greek culture begins Western Civilization
But "Western Civilization" means "White Domination"
Myceneans learned from Kemet, called Egypt in Greek
It existed since at least 3000 B.C.
Creatin geometry and astronomy
This knowledge influenced Plato, Socrates and Hippocrates
Cause Imhotep, the real real father of medicine
Was worshiped in Greece and Rome in the form of a Black African
The word Africa comes from the Greek "Aphrike"
meaning "without code"; the word philosophy means "love of knowledge"
Stole from first man, Greek power expands
The first Greek fraternities band
The word gymnasium is Greek for "naked"
This was the place where adolescent boys were educated, and molested
This was accepted because Greek culture was homosexual
For example, Sappho trained girls on the island of Lesbos
Hence, the word lesbian (Ay let these dumb motherfuckers know)
December 25th, the birth of Saturn
A homosexual god, now check the historical pattern
December 25, now thought the birth of Christ
Was Saturnalia, when men got drunk,
fucked each other then beat their wife
Fact is, it was still practiced, til they called it Christmas
So put a gerbil on your Christmas list
The Hellenistic Era, Alexander the Great
Conquers all the way to India leavin four successor states
By the Fifth century B.C., R.O.M.E.
succeeds to be the conqueror of Egypt and Greece
But had the threat of the Black Phoenicians in Sicily
The Punic Wars began 264 B.C.
The Black general Hannibal and Carthaginian Peace
In 146 B.C. Carthage fell after a six-month siege
Rome sold every citizen to slavery
The first genocide of history
And more bisexuality in sight; Julius Caesar was known as
"every woman's husband and every man's wife" (BEOTCH!)
Spartacus Revolt, a slave rebellion that lost
Where 6,000 slaves was nailed on a cross
Cross? Aw, shit! Jesus Christ! Time for some-act-right
Christians get your facts right
Cause Christ was not his name
That's Greek for "One who is anointed"
Yoshua Ben Yosef was his name, do Christians know this?
So who do you praise, do you know his name?
Or do you do this in vain?
Accepting the religion they gave slaves to behave
Peep the description of historian Josephus
"Short, dark, with an underdeveloped beard was Jesus"
He had the Romans fearing revolution
The solution was to take him to court and falsely accuse him
After being murdered by Pilate how can it be
these same white Romans established Christianity
Constantine would later see the cross in a dream
In his vision, it read "En Hawk Signo Wonka":
"In this sign we conquer" - Manifest Destiny
In 325 he convened the Nicean Creed
And separated god into three
Decided Jesus was born on December 25th
and raised then on the third day is a myth
Plus to deceive us
Commissioned Michelangelo to paint white pictures of Jesus
He used his aunt, uncle, and nephew
Subconsciously that affects you
It makes you put white people closer to God
(Yo, 'The Man' got game like a motherfucker!)
True indeed, fuck it, Jihad
In the eight century Muslims conquered
Spain, Portugal and France and controlled it for 700 years
They never mention this in history class
cause o'fays are threatened when you get the real lesson
Moors from Baghdad, Turkey threatened European Christians
Meaning, the white way of life; hence the Crusades for Christ
On November 25th, 1491
Santiago defeats the last Muslim stronghold, Grenada
King Ferdinand gave thanks to God for victory
And the Pope of Rome and declared this date to forever be
A day of "Thanksgiving" for all European Christians

.. Now listen, when you celebrate "Thanksgiving"
What you are actually celebratin
is the proclamation of the Pope of Rome
Who later, in league with Queen Isabella
sent Cardinal Ximenos to Spain
to murder any blacks that resisted Christianity
These Moors, these black men and women
were from Baghdad, Turkey
And today, you eat the turkey, for your "Thanksgiving" day
as the European Powers destroyed the Turkeys
Who were the forefathers of your mothers and fathers
Now fight the power, you bitch-ass niggaz!

Now around this time, Whites started callings us Negroes
That's Spanish for black object meaning we're not really people
but profit, and the triangle trade begins - they seize us
Queen Elizabeth sends the first slaves on a ship named Jesus
Stealin land from the indigenous natives
Gave them alcohol to keep the Red Man intoxicated
Whites claim they had to civilize these pagan animals
But up until 1848 there's documented cases
of whites bein the savage cannibals, eatin Indians
In 1992, it's Jeffery Dahmer
They slaughtered a whole race with guns
Drugs, priests and nuns
1763, the first demonic tactic of biological warfare
As tokens of peace, Sir Jeffery Amherst
passed out clothin and blankets to the Indian community
Infested with small pox, knowin they had no immunity
Today it's AIDS, you best believe it's man made
Cause ain't a damn thing changed.. let me explain
Now since people of color are genetically dominant
and Caucasoids are genetically recessive
and Whites expect to be predominant, meaning survive as a race then
they simply must, take precautions
That's why they're worried about their future now
Cuz by 2050, almost all the Earth's population
will be brown, then black, so understandin that, whites counterreact
(I'm sayin.. man.. them fools
ain't nothin but a teaspoon of milk in the world color majority)
So they created a system
to force blacks into an unnatural position
That re-enforces the position of natural inferiority
In addition, created guns and developed the ethnocentric view
that God justifies every fuckin thing they do
Condition people to perceive whites' culture as civilized
and every other culture considered primitive - not true!
Racism is the system of racial subjugation against nonwhites
in every areas of human relation
Entertainment, education, labor, politics
Law, religion, sex, war and economics
See blacks were 3/5ths of a man with tax purposes intended
You think you're Afro-American?
You're a 14th amendment and a good nigga
Jews don't salute the fuckin swastika
but niggaz pledge allegiance to the flag that accosted ya
They never teach about the break of islands like Jamaica
But before slaves came here whites would take a
pregnant women, hang her from a tree by her toes
Slice her stomach with a knife
and let the unborn baby fall to the flo'
And stop an unborn child in front of all the slaves
to inbreed fear, so they'd be scared and behave
and not rebel more
Understand all whites must be perceived as potential predators
I paraphrase historian Ishakamusa Barashango
"Understand that regardless of the lofty ideas ingraved on paper
in such documents as the Constitution or Declaration
the basic nature.. of the European American white man
remains virtually unchanged".. so check
This is the nature of the threat