Alex: i mean we didn't get our first real computer until I was in high school
Alex: i can remember handing in papers using a *gasp* typewriter
d0 nn ie ve ga: man, i used a typewriter until 11th grade
d0 nn ie ve ga: seriously
Alex: and you know that's gonna be something that will forever date you. I know it makes me feel like an old man
Alex: i can hear it already
Alex: "What's a typewriter?"
d0 nn ie ve ga: man, i remember i'd run out of ribbon
d0 nn ie ve ga: it'd be 12am
d0 nn ie ve ga: and i'd be FUCKED
Alex: the worst is making a mistake
d0 nn ie ve ga: and sure, the eraser was white
Alex: especially back then i didn't even type with all 10 digits
d0 nn ie ve ga: but you saw EXACTLY what you first typed
Alex: yeah
Alex: EVERYONE knows
Alex: and if you don't have those little white strips, which run out fast
Alex: then you have to pull the whole page out
Alex: use white out
Alex: let it dry
Alex: then put it BACK in
d0 nn ie ve ga: HELL YEAH
Alex: and you KNOW you aren't getting it lined up right
d0 nn ie ve ga: or you'd be searching on the white piece of eraser for a space that would fit a lower case f
Alex: so then the whole rest of the PAGE is off from what you'd typed
Alex: yeah, it's like punching out cookie dough or something
Alex: "I hope I don't mess up on anything more than an I or I'm screwed."
Alex: Mistype a W? man, you better just start over.
Alex: and what if you forget to indent on a new paragraph
Alex: Screw it
Alex: Take the mark down
d0 nn ie ve ga: it's almost unbelievable
Alex: But at least we got to see MJ in his prime
Alex: and listen to hip hop when it was good
Alex: So i guess it's a fair tradeoff
d0 nn ie ve ga: i'm taking everything you wrote and putting it on my blog....i need to remember that later on in life
Alex: and develop imaginations
Alex: When you grandkids ask you what the heck a typewriter was?
d0 nn ie ve ga: lol
d0 nn ie ve ga: yeah
Alex: Yeah, dread that day my friend.

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.