One of the things that for the most part goes unmentioned about the holiday season is how for about a 2 week span, you start running into people you haven't seen in ages.

I have mixed feelings about this phenomenon.

It's pretty noticable living in the town where I grew up. Being on the edge of what his considered the San Francisco Bay Area, Vallejo is close enough to Oakland/San Francisco to be a highly desired residential area, yet far enough to cost merely an arm to live here(as opposed to the arm, leg, and first born son people are paying to live closer), so there is a lot of population retention. The kids move on with their lives but there their parents stick around. Holiday season is pretty much the season when all the youngin' come back to the nest.

It's cool running into people sometimes, because the surprise and happiness is genuine. You're really happy to see them and they're really happy to see you. It feels good. You give them a hug or you firmly shake their hand. You look them directly in their eyes so you can sense your genuine happiness and you and see theirs. You stand there for a while catching up, and when you finally walk away, a faint sense of nostalgia overcomes you. It's awesome.

But then there are other times when you run into people you really didn't mind not seeing for the last few years. Your face is like "Oh wow! I haven't seen you in ages! What's goin' on with you?" Your mind is like, "Fuck this guy. He hasn't made an effort to say shit to me for the last 7 years and now he's blowing sunshine up my asshole because it makes him feel benevolent during the holidays. Fuck this guy."

I've had a couple of those, too. It's weird, though how quickly we hop back into our normal lives after the holidays. But it is, afterall, time to catch up on the debt we were set back with buying all those presents for other people, plus the present you treated yourself to for being so generous. Tax time is coming soon, and I bet some people have already alotted the money they might get at tax time.

I know I have.

---

Oh, and just a word of advice. If you're on Limewire (Or any Gnutella P2P for that matter)and get the urge to download the Colin Farrel Sex Tape, don't. It's not the Colin Farrel Sex Tape.

It's, umm, something else.

Aristen Jade
Born December 19th, 2005
7lbs. 3oz 19 1/4 inches long

I was sitting here at my desk at work when I suddenly had the urge to get up and be active. I looked at my reflection in the glass window behind my desk that separates me from our conference room and started krumping.

Apparently, I am not the kind of person that should be krumping for simple reason that my lower back now feels like it was stabbed by a mad, Lebanese midget with a really bad attitude.

Imagining that there were actually people in there having a meeting afterwards gave me a small chuckle, as well.

Reality can hand out a pretty mean bitch slap if you tend to lose contact with it every now and then. We tend to look at ourselves in the mirror and be somewhat disappointed with what we see. We're humble to the point that it's self-deprecating. But at the end of the day, we really overvalue our own worth in many specific areas of our lives.

My mind goes through all kinds of different shit throughout the day. I'm constantly analyzing and reanalyzing different observations, possible scenarios, and just off-the-wall shit like whether or not the fact that my left big toenail is significantly longer than my right big toenail will affect my overall equilibrium.

You know, just complete randomness.

Before I forget, NBC's "My Name Is Earl" is easily my favorite new TV show of this fall season. Jason Lee is one of my personal favorites. Lee, as you may know already, is of Kevin Smith's "View Askewniverse" fame and was in "Mallrats", "Chasing Amy", "Dogma", and "Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back". And being that I'm a total Kevin Smith mark, I'm a big fan of Lee. With another Kevin Smith connection, Ethan Suplee, who you may remember from NBC's "Boy Meets World", who also happened to be in "Mallrats" as Willam Black and "Dogma" as the "big rubber poop monster" (aka The Golgatha Monster). Jamie Presley reprises her character seen in David Spade's "Joe Dirt", the country ass trailer park girl.

And if Jamie isn't your cup of tea, "My Name Is Earl" doesn't disappoint the eye candy enthusiasts (aka "pervs") with semi-newcomer Nadine Velazquez, who you may remember from a Maxim photospread she's done, or you may not remember from "The Bold And The Beautiful".



The show is just simply entertaining, and I think the premise is pretty damn original. Good shit. If you're an avid "House" watcher, chances are that you've never seen this show since it runs concurrently during the first half hours of "House". My wife is a big fan of "House". I've seen a few episodes. That's not a bad show either.

But yeah, enough of the shills I guess.

On last note, since I'm all out of gas.

The doctor said the Baby Countdown is down to less than 3 weeks.

This shit is nuts.

I tried to write something out for you to celebrate your life yesterday when I found out.

I couldn't find the words to articulate what I really wanted to say then.

But now, all I really want to say is "Thank you".

A couple months ago while looking for books with my son and my wife I picked up a book from a book outlet. Now, I'm not exactly a reader. I've never had much of an attention span for recreational reading, so most of the reading I've done in the last 10 years have been strictly for educational purposes. It wasn't until I started having conversations with one of my Internet friends that I thought that I might be due time to start restimulating my mind after over almost a year of being out of school. So I picked up a couple books on subjects that I have actually become interested in these last couple of years.

The first book I have started reading is a book by Joseph L. Graves regarding the social construct that is "race" ("The Race Myth: Why We Pretend Race Exists in America ") When I first got the book, I really had a hard time getting into it. It's not that I didn't enjoy reading it. That wasn't the issue. The issue is that it's hard to set aside time to just sit down and actually read, especially if you haven't done any recreational reading for any significant amount of time. Before, my casual and recreational reading happened on the toilet. Feel me on that?

As I'm reading this book, a lot of strong assertions are made. Some subjective, and some very objective and supported by statistics. But as we've learned, statistics can be skewed and deceiving. So statistical evidence isn't exactly as concrete as we once thought. I couldn't help but step back from the situation and think how skeptical I've become throughout the years. Right now, I'm reading a book and while I'm totally digging what I'm reading, I can't help but take a lot of what I'm reading with a grain of salt, statistically supported or not. It's a pretty far step from where I was 5 or 6 years ago.

5 or 6 years ago, I could read a book or article and take it for fact. I was naive enough to believe that if it were published, it had to be legitimate. There was no need to question anything. 5 years before that, I believed pretty much anything anyone said. My teachers knew everything. There was no need for "proof". If they said it in a classroom, it had to be true. Junior high is afterall a breeding ground for ridiculous rumors and heresay. With little to nothing to refute what is being said (or assumed), anything said was believable. With such a narrow perspective on the world, it was so easy to trust them. Hell, 5 years before that, I believed everything my parents told me. What they said was fact. It was truth. I couldn't dispute it. And quite frankly, were was no reason to. I depended on them for everything. Food, shelter, comfort, etc. My parents were essentially an infomational sieve, filtering out any information they didn't want to get to me. I can't blame them. That's what parents should do. We're not ready for the truth then anyway.

Now you take that and fast forward all that in chronological order. It looks like I grown a lot through out the years. As the world unravels to us as we get older, we become more skeptical and less trusting. What I once considered true was eventually contested and reassessed, resulting in my own personal opinion on these issues and "facts". It's pretty scary, because I only have a mere 26 years of experience under my belt.

What else could be out there? At this point in my adulthood, will the world continue to unravel itself like a ball of yarn? How will my opinions change as I get older? The future is so uncertain. We like to feel like we're in control as humans. It's one of the things that keep us sane. But will what I consider true now eventually be proven false? It's disheartening sometime when you find out that something you held as truth is exposed for what it really is. But at the same time there is room for growth.

As I read through this new book, I'm adding to my bag of tricks. As certain absolutes in my life are proven either true or false, I will at least have several perspectives to take into account that will lessen the blow. Honestly, I don't mind that at all.

Two sexy bitches:

She always does.

Add another one to the list.

Where you at?

Dirty Laundry List

I not what most would consider "cool". I was never really cool, nor was I ever really popular. Sure, during my senior year of high school I was one of the most recognizable faces among people my age in my town, but as I've said before, high school superlatives are meaningless. Even in my short and fleeting stint as someone slightly "popular", I was still really awkward. I couldn't dress, I wasn't very funny, and I didn't do anything worthwhile. Wait. I'm still really awkward, I still can't dress, and I don't do anything worthwhile. Well, shit.

When I'm sober, I'm not really funny. Like, at all. And when I'm drunk, I'm really obnoxious and annoying to anyone not drunk. I grew up really wanting to "just be down". I was an attention whore. I made jokes when I know no one else would to emphasize my humor. When I get drunk, that part of me comes out. I come off to some as someone that is uninhibited and spontaneous. It's a facade. I'm full of shit.

I was never really good looking. Even when I was skinny. And when I say "when I was skinny", I really mean "when I wasn't as fat". I tried to make up for my aesthetic shortcomings by doing all the attention-whore-ish stuff mentioned above. I look at my wife and wonder what kind of mind control I used to make her stay with me.

I'm not as intelligent as I think I am. I know a little about a lot of things, but I don't know enough about anything to make a difference in my life.

Although my parents would never admit it, I know they're disappointed in how my life has turned out. I'm sure they love my son to death, there's no denying that. But I know I had the "most likely to succeed" label between of my sisters and I since I was 7 years old. Anything short of greatness was unexpected. And I've fallen short. Real short.

"Where is R. Kelly when you need him?" - Bill Maher on HBO's "Real Time with Bill Maher", regarding Prussian Blue, a tween-aged musical duo who apparently have no connection to the outside world other than the teachings of their racist parents.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it....


I'm getting bored with my blog. So I've decided to seek the help of all you fantastic people.

Send me a picture of yourself holding a piece of paper telling me how you REALLY feel. It can say anything. "Fuck You Joe", "Bastitch Sucks", "My Balls Itch", anything.

You can host it yourself (tinypic.com or putfile.com rock for stuff like this) or you can send me the actual images at bastitch@niketalk.com

Either way, you'll end up on my blog for all to see.

It's your chance America.


By the way, if you're worried that people will see the picture, don't worry. No one reads my blog anyway.

http://bastitch.blogspot.com

Now that I think about it, this is pretty lame and attention whore-ish. Oh well, fuck it. Let's run with it.

At 5:04 on October 17th, 1989 I was leaning over getting ready to press record on the black family 13-channel VCR to record the 3rd game of the World Series. The VCR sat perched on top of our early 80's wooden Zenith television. You know, the kind that in the mid 90's served as the tv stand for your friend's new television? Well, yeah. It was odd because first the quake hit and I saw it on tv before I felt it myself. The reception got blurry and I let out a disappointed "uhh, what?" before the floor started shaking.

I hit up the nearest doorway as per cutomary Bay Area earthquake training at school and the few public service announcements during daytime television. My sisters got under the coffee table, have scared and half amused. After it was over, my sisters and I started laughing the way you laugh after getting off a roller coaster that scared the shit out of you. The fun was shortlived because my dad, who took the day off from work and the hour and half commute that he and my mom drove every workday, brought us all down to earth quickly reminding us that my mom was in rush hour traffic and we didn't know whether or not she was safe.



We stayed close to the television as the stream of news started coming in. Part of the Bay Bridge fell. The 880 Cypress Structure collapsed. The San Francisco Marina district was on fire. The entire Bay Area came to a complete halt. It wasn't until later that I understood the scope of the entire situation.

It turned out that my mom was indeed on the Oakland side of the Bay Bridge going East, only half a mile from the portion that collapsed. We didn't hear from her until later that night. I remember because it was already dark and we still didn't hear a thing. Phonelines were busier than ever with people trying to get a hold of their loved ones. I really didn't show my concern initially like my younger sister, who looked noticeably worried. She was only 6 back then. But when she finally did call, I was more than relieved.

My neighbors across the street weren't as lucky as we were. The father was one of the many that were crushed in the collapse of the Cypress structure, leaving two young children and a wife behind. It wasn't until days later that the mother was called to identify the body.

It was one of those things that I never want to experience again. Just all the uncertainty and fear drove me crazy. Anybody remember the episode of Full House when Stephanie was having problems with her dad going to work after the earthquake? Well, I saw that episode a couple months ago and it brought me all back to when I was 10, not really sure how to process everything that just had happened. It wasn't like now, where the people you love all have cell phones or the Internet and are just a press of a button away. We really had no clue what was going on.



It's been 16 years and the Bay Area has been spared from a major natural disaster since. But I have to admit that it wasn't until this 16th anniversary of the Loma Prieta that the tsunami in Southeast Asia and the recent hurricanes in the South became very "real" to me. I kind of separated myself from the events and my emotions were detatched. It was like a television show that was constantly on every news channel. You get a constant dose of something and you start to become tolerant, you know?

One odd byproduct of the Loma Prieta earthquake was the term "earthquake weather". Before October 17th, the weather was still relatively Summer-like. Typical California weather with fog during the early morning, only to burn away from the relentless power sun. But that day, it was an unusually cloudy and humid day. What could have been chalked up to mere coincidence or seen as an unrelated anomaly has become a way to kind of reflect back on that time.

There were a few moments this past baseball season that I'll never forget. I really have to publicly thank my boy Albert, who was kind enough to take me along to a handful of games with his second season ticket. For that, I am etenally thankful. I went to more games this season then I ever have. For that, you get my Matt Cain "Gamer" award.

The seats are awesome. Section 138, row 21, seats 3 and 4. The bleachers of SBC Park are a throwback to a different time in San Francisco Giants history. They're filled with many of the great fans that were scattered around Candlestick Park, the stadium that served as the Giants' home before PacBell/SBC was built. Now that many of the "good" seats are taken by corporate types and season ticket holders. I'm not complaining about those fans what so ever. They are one of the main reasons this beautiful ballpark even exists. But the people in the left field bleachers are definitely a unique breed and are more "my people" than the fans in other sections. Definitely hardcore fans.

There was a surreal moment on September 15, the first game in a series against the hated Los Angeles Dodgers. The Giants were down by a few runs and were threatening. On came on "Next Episode", Barry Bonds' music as he is announed to come up to bat. Everybody in the park stood up in anticipation. As the beat hits, everybody in the bleachers has their hands in the air and in unison are bouncing to the beat as Nate Dogg sings "Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah..". The anticipation and energy level is so high throughout the park.

During the at bat, Bonds yanks one down the line, well over the stands for what we think is a homerun. The crowd is going nuts and I'm jumping up and down yelling. It slowly quiets down and the cheers turn into a chorus of boos. It was ruled a foulball. I was so disappointed. The Giants went on to lose the game by 6, and it was all for naught.

But I'll be damn if it wasn't worth it. That's the beauty of being a fan of baseball and sports. You are on a mountain one second and be jerked to the bottom floor in half the time. We always have our disappointments, but unless you're a Yankees fan, that will make up for the majority of our time as a sports fan. It is seriously fun and recreation. It's hard to explain to anybody that isn't really a big fan. We ride through a rollercoaster of win and loses, high moments and low moments, but through it all we're honestly enjoying ourselves.

It's great being a fan.

The other day I was here in the office dribbling my basketball during some downtime.

I was watching tv at the same time, not really paying attention. The ball slipped a little bit and bounced off a file drawer, shooting out in a horizontal trajectory and hitting square on my right nut and grazing my left.

Now, I don't know when the last time you got hit in the nuts, but it was easily about 4 or 5 years since I've been hit so squarely. I've had a few grazes here and there, which are arguably worse than a direct shot, but nothing to substantial.

Well, if you're like me before this incident and you've forgotten what it's like, let me tell you: It hurts a whole lot worse than you remember. A lot worse.

The pain immediately shot up towards my kidneys and I fell to the floor. When I get hit in the nuts, I get the urge to crap my pants. And let me tell you, the impact was so hard that the demons of hell were "knocking on the door", ready to put me in a very embarrassing situation (Umm, honey? Can you come to my office and bring me some clean underwear and shorts? I've had an accident...).

It took a while for me to recover, too. Between the rolling around on the floor and the butt-clenching, I was abreaction as hell. Shit, I'm still embarrassed now.

Oh well. At least I didn't shit my pants.

Do you know what today is?




<3

I've been trying to teach myself how to use PhotoShop these last couple days. This here is literally my very first completed attempt to do anything. Jimmy's been giving me pointers. Props to Jimmy (Who just happened to be the master craftsman behind my orginal "Insert Witty Title" banner).



Right now, I suck. I'll probably always suck. But that's okay.

Wow. An obscure "Kids In The Hall" reference. My blog is now complete.