A Boner Story

(This story begins in the laundry room of my townhouse)

Me: Hey babe!

(A brief silence)

GF: Yeah!

Me: Where are you?

GF: I'm in the bedroom; on the phone with Mary.

Me: Oh. Tell her I said hi. Have you done any laundry this week?

GF: Yeah. But I was only able to get one load of the whites done... Why?

(Thinking to myself: This chick is unemployed and stays home all day watching episodes of "This American Life", while smoking all of my pot. And she only had time to do one load of laundry? WTF?!)

Me: Damn it! I can't find my favorite shirt. I wore it last weekend to Ryan's barbecue. Do you remember if you washed it?

(Clueless to what I'm talking about.)

GF: Which one? You have so many! Maybe it got mixed up with my pile of dirty clothes in here.

(Making my way towards the bedroom, in hopes to find my missing shirt. Frustrated. Mumbling to myself: "Why haven't I kicked this chick out yet? She hasn't paid rent in months since she's been laid off. She rarely cleans up around the house, let alone after herself. She eats all my otter pops and is notorious for leaving only one pizza roll in the goddamn box. One! One fucking roll! How am I suppose to get full off of just one?! What's worse? She smokes all my pot and neglects to mention she did, only when I ask her to pack me a bowl.")

(Walking through the bedroom door, I head straight to the pile of dirty clothes laying in the corner of the room, without even acknowledging her. She watches intently as I rummage through her smelly bits of unwashed clothing; like a bum goes dumpster diving; in hopes to find some unwanted piece of trash. But, to no avail.)

GF: Not there?

(I ignore her question. Dating for sometime now, she's grown to notice that I'm upset when I talk to her in my irritable tone, without even looking in her direction. I walk over to my dresser in total dismay. I start searching through piles of folded t-shirts and begin tossing the ones out that don't match the description of the one in question. She rolls her eyes and continues her conversation on the phone.)

Me: Babe, you know which one! I've had it since college. It's one of my favorite books when I was growing up.

(No response. Tossing out the last shirt left in the drawer, I place my hands behind my head as if I'm being arrested and look straight up at the ceiling)

Me: Fuck!!! I can't find my "Where The Wild..." (While turning around to face her, I see this...)



Me: Oh. My. God. I love you (Underneath my breath).

Some say that 'make-up' sex is the best kind of sex. I beg to differ. I recommend you try "Frustrated-I-can't-find-my-favorite-shirt-and-you've-been-wearing-it-all-this-time" sex. Then tell me I ain't right.

Break Time!

I will be taking an indefinite break from posting on this blog to focus more on transferring/writing new material for my newest blog: Welcome To Heartbreak City. I'm feeling somewhat lethargic after my trip to Chicago last week and rather not deal with the hassle of juggling two blogs at the moment. In due time, I'll be back on the ball. I promise. I'm not even sure why I'm assuming that I have any readers out there, to update on this current status. But hey. I figured I'd be polite, just in case I miraculously have a couple. I didn't want to disappoint the few that I may have. Sort of like the feeling of anxiously, anticipating having sex with your wife after serving a 10 year prison sentence, only to find out that 'mother nature' has decided to crash your welcome home party. Well, maybe not exactly like that. But you know what I'm mean...

P.S. For those of you who have not had the chance to check out my newest blog, feel free to stop by and tell me what you think. Your feedback is greatly appreciated.


-Signing off from the trenches-

It was just a joke!

Whoa! Whoa! What the fuck are you doing?! Put it down. Why the hell are you doing that to your face? What? What do you mean this is what "I" wanted? Slow down. You mean to tell me you're doing this all because of that stupid joke I made last night, about: "I'd like you more if you always had on make-up." Seriously? I was high as a kite when I said it. It was a joke! What the fuck is wrong with you?... (If she wasn't a total wildcat in bed, I would've left her ass a long time ago)

I simply can't stand people who take a joke, too personally. Come on! That's why it's called a joke; though it may have been said in poor taste; but regardless, a joke. People can be so sensitive. If I really wanted to insult you, I wouldn't act so nonchalant about it and say: "I was just joking". Please. I'm a grown man. I don't have to hide being an asshole. What truly baffles me is the really insecure types, that always take it to a whole another level. The ones that drastically try to alter their appearance--that have you thinking they're not all there--just because they took your comment way out of context. Whether it be something simple as modifying their hair, weight loss/gain, or just going all out extreme with elective surgery. Seriously? Even if it wasn't a joke, are you really gonna let others dictate how you feel about yourself? Cry me a river. 9 out of 10 times, it was a fucking joke! Don't blame the world for your stupid insecurities.

Shot Through The Heart

There's something about this photo that gives me a full blown hard on. Just look at her! So adorable holding the cold steel of a revolver in her palm, in hopes her aim is precise enough to hit the target. There's nothing sexier than a woman who knows how to properly use a firearm. Just something about chicks and guns, that gets me completely wound up. Though the concept of a woman knowing how to protect herself, easily turns me on--I would never teach my girlfriend how to shoot--since there's always that one chick you're not too sure of. You know the type. The chick you purposely fail to mention that you own one, in fear she'll go bat-shit and start using your head as target practice for not putting down the toilet seat when you've finished or smoking the rest of the 'pot,' without asking her first for permission. I don't know about you, but the last thing I want, is to get shot with my own gun. I'm just sayin'.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

So I decided to start another blog called: "Welcome to Heartbreak City", on account of the material I've written in the past that isn't necessarily appropriate for what I usually post here. For those of you that have ever had your heart broken or are experiencing relationship issues and feel like you're all alone, this is a place where you can go and find some closure, one way or another. Whether you need a male's perspective on things or just need an outlet to get your thoughts across, feel free to stop by. Composed in the aspect of a hopeless romantic--it's a collection of my thoughts and encounters, on my persistent quest on finding love--which usually resulted in failure. So don't expect to read some fairy tale, lovey-dovey type bullshit. That sort of romance just doesn't exist in my opinion. Anyway, check it out and let me know what you think.

Confession Pt. 1

Every now and again, I believe I'm going to this so-called Hell for the mistakes I've made when I was younger. Call it guilt or paranoia, but if this place actually does exist--I'm hoping it's one big rager instead of what other religions consider it to be. I would never deem myself as a terrible person who is constantly shoveling out evil deeds on others, but Lord knows I've made my fair share. Whether it be for the way I've treated women like objects during my college years; drug pushing to provide a better life for myself and family, while I was destroying others; or the robberies I've committed when I was kid because I needed money and wasn't eager to work hard for it. I'm not sure why I even feel this way sometimes, since I'm no longer a practicing Catholic. Though, I do consider myself to be an Agnostic theist. Ever since I've retired from the street life, I've walked down this road to redemption for the pain and trouble I may have caused others. But at the same time, I have no regrets on how I've lived my life and wouldn't change a thing. Knowing life could one day unexpectedly revert back to that state it was once in, I have yet to break all my underworld ties. I left the game some years ago because the strain and worry it put on someone I cared so dear for. Every day has been on going battle in my mind to keep moving forward and not digress back to that lifestyle. But I can never knock anyone whosever lived it. Hey, It's made me the man I am today. I just can't help but feel that karma will one day catch up with me...

Sometimes I feel like the company I keep is holding me down. Not that they're intentionally keeping me from what I truly want to do with my life, but more like we've reached the point where there's no longer room for growth. They're not bad people at all. To be honest, they're the complete opposite. But more like my current interests, far exceeds what they want out of life. I fear I'll be stuck doing the same shit every weekend--drinking downtown at the same bars for the past 5 years--when knowing I want to do something more productive and meaningful with my life. I want to travel and see the world. I want to do charity work and help the less fortunate. I'm too young to settle down and give into the social delusion that the next step in life is to get married and start a family. I'm not even remotely sure I want either one--ever. At times, I feel horrible for wanting to make new acquaintances to get away from the monotony of my existing friends...

There are some occasions when you come back into town to visit your friends & family, we end up hanging out even though we haven't spoken in years. We get together not because we plan to, but rather due to the fact we share the same friends. It almost feels forced upon us. However uneasy the situation may be for the both of us, we always seem to pick up from the last time we last saw one another. As if, we're still close friends. Even though we dated years ago and have moved on with our lives, I still hold you in high regards. I hope you know that. There are times during these encounters, that our conversations have turned awkward. Please don't take it personal, it's only because...

I Digress...

For the past 2 weeks, I've been on this sobriety hiatus, to save up some money to finally pay off my credit cards and most importantly, help clean out my system. During this duration, I forgot how nice it feels just to stay home for once and relax in solitude, away from the smoke filled bars I'm so used to frequenting. Whether it be catching up on some good reading, watching documentaries on the History/Discovery channel, or just watching a classic movie on TCM--it felt good to get away from the constant attempts to drown my liver in alcohol. Not to mention I started feeling sick during this time, which was weird since I hardly get sick, but I thought it necessary to let my body recover for a while. As I think of it now, the time off from partying didn't just help my body recover--but has also helped me shed a couple of pounds off my belly from drinking too much beer. I have stuck to my new routine of working out and even started jogging a little bit, to help get me back in to shape. I was finally feeling healthier than I have for the past couple of weeks...

But this past Thursday, I relapsed. It was my friend Christina's 30th birthday and felt like I should at least stop by her work to wish her a happy birthday, since it's been a few weeks--since we've last seen or talked to each other. Did I mention she bar tends at Matador? Well, she does. Knowing fully the likelihood of me going out to a bar without having a few drinks were slim, I figured I owed it to myself to enjoy a night out and break my streak. There were times during the day I considered backing out and sticking to my new routine, but the more she updated me on how horrible her day was going and wished her birthday were already over, didn't help sway my decision on staying home. In effort to cheer her up, I decided to stop by Matador while she was working and surprise her with a little present. Before I headed downtown, I stopped by Publix and picked up a box of Hostess cupcakes and birthday candles to use for a birthday cake. You ask why I would do this? It's because I'm not an asshole 24/7. I'd like to think my random acts of kindness can make a difference in someone's life, regardless, how big the gesture. Plus when I met her earlier this year, she informed me of some bad birthdays she experience from her childhood and conveyed why she didn't like celebrating the day at all. So hey, why not try to make a difference in someones life, especially on their birthday. Maybe my feeble attempt to surprise her would rewrite how she felt about her born day. To say the least, it didn't make everything better, but it helped... I'm okay with that.

I did end up drinking a lot that night, to the point it took me almost 12 hours the next day to fully sober up. Ridiculous, huh? Hence the title of this post. I also came up with the stupid idea that avoiding beer and

drinking liquor for the rest of the night, would help curb some weight gain from my alcohol consumption. Haha. Anyway, good times were had. It was good to get out of the house and see a few friends, while listening to some good music. No regrets here. It's a new week and I'm ready to start over again...

Completely off tangent, I did manage to also smoke this weekend. I rarely touch the stuff now-a-days and when I do, I usually get extremely paranoid. Sometimes to the point I don't even enjoy it and question why I did it in the first place. This time I got to the point I thought I was really being watched!

After spending all day Friday recovering from the previous night, Saturday afternoon I headed to the beach with a couple of friends to enjoy a beach day. Unfortunately by the time we finished eating at Ron Jon's, a thunderstorm had already rolled in and ruined our chances of enjoying our fun in the sun, before it even got started. FML. I forget Florida summers coerce it's inhabitants to wake up earlier in the day to have an opportunity to bask in the sun, before afternoon showers move in. Weird thing happened on the drive back when we got caught in the middle of this huge thunderstorm, where it's raining so heavy and you can't even see 5 ft. in front of you. I swear Florida has the worst torrential rain, ever! Anyway, The Foo Fighter's song: "D.O.A." came on the radio while we were driving thru it. I seriously felt like I was on some "Final Destination" type shit. It seriously creeped me out. Luckily there weren't too many cars on the road during the time and we made it home safe and sound. Whew!

Tonight, I went to the movies and watched "Away We Go" with a friend. I thought it was a cute film that dealt with finding peace of mind and security while trying to raise a family. I swear Sam Mendes makes some beautiful, yet insightful indie flicks. I also received "Revolutionary Road" in the mail from Netflix this weekend, but have yet to watch it.

I've been waiting since Sundance to finally watch this flick! The 31st can't come soon enough...



On a good note, I maybe going to Chicago at the end of August since this month's trip was scrubbed. I can't wait! Hopefully everyone had a great weekend. If not, too bad.


-Signing off from the trenches-

Walking Disaster

So, I some how figured out how to bruise the inside of my left wrist without consciously knowing it. I woke up the next day baffled upon seeing it and tried to retrace my steps from the previous day, to uncover how I might have obtained this beauty mark, but no to avail. WTF?! I wasn't even drunk. Sad I can't even remember when I'm sober. I tend to bruise easily anyway. It's probably due to vitamin C deficiency, but who knows. Chances are the next time you see me on the street, I'll have a new bruise to chat about. Anyway, I figured I'd share this useless piece of information with you, assuming there's anyone even reading this...

* This photo was taken before the bruise fully turned black & blue. Now my wrist looks like it has track marks from shooting heroin.

Team America - Fuck Yeah!!!

When I think of celebrating the 4th of July, I think of laying out on the beach, boozing with friends, barbecues (burgers, hot dogs, freedom fries) and of course the customary firework display. It's hard to imagine not commemorating the holiday without gazing up at the vibrant sky, lighting up with an assortment gaudy explosions. As if the heavens were having their annual rager, to kick off the summer and you were just fortunate enough to witness the festivities from outside the venue. It's funny how I just pictured that. But this year, I did none of the above. I felt like changing things up for once and decided to head to the Bacardi B-Live Concert at the House of Blues, instead of watching the traditional firework spectacle you observe every year. Without question, an excellent choice to honor our forefathers. Did I mention the concert was free?! No? Well, it was. Jealous? Though I did spend a good amount of money on steep drinks and immediately remembered why I try to avoid tourist areas for that reason. I'm also traumatized about driving in tourist areas, due to the fact of my car being a moving target for out-of-towners in the past. In my opinion, the only setback to the event was that they only served Bacardi and nothing else. I'm not really a fan of drinking rum, let alone the Bacardi brand. No other types of liquors were sold, which makes perfect sense from a business standpoint since they were the ones sponsoring the event, yet they also decided not to serve any beer. WTF?! I felt like asking the bartender: "Are you seriously trying to give everyone D.U.I.'s for the holiday?!" Don't get me wrong. I'm not mad at Bacardi. They're just trying to make money and market their product. It just would've been nice to have some more options, if you felt like switching it up. Needless to say, I was drinking Bacardi & Coke all night. Ugh. Still, nothing like enjoying a free concert with close friends and dancing the night away to great music. Though I was baffled that the concert wasn't sold out and wasn't as nearly packed as I was expecting, which I guess was also a good thing. It was a good mix of a crowd made up predominately of hipsters and hip-hop heads. If you weren't there, you definitely missed out. There's not many good acts that tour through Orlando and play a free show...

The highlight of my night was when I got to see Matt & Kim perform live. I've been stoked all week to finally have the opportunity to see them in concert. They certainly brought good energy to the stage and what I could only describe as a "dance party" vibe to the event, which was overshadowed by hip-hop beats. I found Kim so adorable, since she kept a huge smile on her face, the whole time she was playing the drums. But don't let the smile fool you, the chick can seriously rock out. Pardon the picture above. It was taken on my iPhone...

Also, I got to witness DJ Jazzy Jeff spin another dope hip-hop set, for the second time around. How awesome would it be if Fresh Prince came out to join him? But nothing compares to the set I heard him play during the Scion yacht party a few years back, during the W.M.C. (Winter Music Conference) down in Miami. A booze cruise with a few hundred people sailing around the Port of Miami, while listening to some classic hip-hop and soulful house music. Plus, it was also free (open bar & appetizers). Come on! It's hard to top that...

All in all, good times were had. I even got to lay out pool side earlier that day, to recover from the previous two nights. So far, I'm content on how this summer is turning out... Hope everyone enjoyed the holiday weekend with friends and family. If not, you're not a God damn American! On a serious note, please keep in mind the soldiers over seas, that are sacrificing their own lives, to fight for our so-called freedom. Shit ain't free, you know. On a happier note, I felt it appropriate to post the picture below.

(photo via olivia allin)

-Signing off from the trenches-

Nothing Lasts Forever

Forever. Ha! I laugh at the very thought someone would actually believe in such a thing. Hogwash! Doesn't anyone know that nothing lasts forever?

For those who use the word forever, as a testament of their love towards their significant other, please refrain from doing so. The expression is simply not possible. I'm not saying the love you share for each other will never last. Rather that it's subjected to change, like everything in this world, for better or worse. I know I'm rationalizing at the moment, and when you're "in love", that tends to go out the window. But I've learned from experience, to just keep that particular word out of phrases of intimacy. It can only cause you grief in the future. For instance, the love you had for your college sweetheart, will never be the same as when you were both in college, due to the fact of unexpected changes and experiences you endure along the way, however big or small, will always alter this love one way or another. Like all things in this world, even love, nothing remains constant. Thus your love cannot always be the same...


I like the motto: "Live Fast, Die Young". I consider myself a risk taker in my own right and tried to experience as much as life has to offer, whether it be good for my well being or not. I'm not promoting a self-destructive lifestyle. No, far from it. Though I did have my moments. More like I'm encouraging individuals to enjoy every waking moment of their life. Every breath that you take is one step closer to your very own death. So why not enjoy every single breath you take, doing something you love. I know it sounds so cliche, but it's true. When I was in high school, I always thought in the back of my mind, I wouldn't live to be 18 years old, and somehow leave this world in a tragic death (car accident, suicide, murder,etc). So I lived like a rebel, with nothing to lose, and encountered things at a young age most people wouldn't experience till their latter years. Here I am, 27 years old and marveling how far I've come from that dark period of my life. I have no regrets about it at all. It help make me the man I am today. Crazy as it sounds, I still do have this zealous desire to die saving a small child from a near death experience. Sort of like my "going out in a blaze of glory"/path to redemption, for all the fucked up shit I did when I was a kid, type scenario. Don't get me wrong. I don't want to be in the the business of performing righteous acts for the sake of being labeled a hero. No, that's not me. I'll leave that for our armed forces, police officers, firefighters, etc. But rather for the importance of protecting something still pure and innocent in exchange for my life, seems truly poetic. One can only hope, this is how I go out...

Speaking of death, I've always wondered about this so-called Heaven and if it maybe a little overrated than it truly is. If you're wondering why I'm even posting a topic about heaven, it's because I was raised Roman Catholic. Ugh. I know. Before I lost my faith in the religion and it's teachings, I often pondered about the after life. Mostly my questions consisted of: "If there's a dress code or are clothes optional?, Could you make your own heaven from scratch, instead of the traditional puffy white clouds backdrop?, Are you allowed to throw ragers once in a while?, etc." As much as these insignificant inquiries sounded, it always left me baffled and curious to know what lay a head. But as I grew older and began to notice my body slowly deteriorating, these questions turned in to deep and troubling thoughts of uncertainty. I started to reflect on my life and what I've accomplished thus far. Death has a funny way of putting your life in perspective. Life and death, go hand in hand. It finally dawned on me, though I've always done things my own way and never followed the majority, I didn't have much to show for it. But when you're lying on your death bed, looking back on the life you've lived, as long you're content with the outcome, does it really matter what others think? I believe so. There are times though, that my thoughts contradict themselves. Yeah, I traveled to distant places some folks would only dream of visiting and partied my health away like there's no tomorrow. But when I returned back home, I felt like something in my life was missing. That I was only planning my next vacation to eagerly escape this perpetual void in my life. My mom has always wanted to see my graduate college and find a career I loved. Yet I never finished college, so in turn I never had a legitimate career. In reality, I was just working to fund my travels. Which isn't a bad plan when you're young, but I'm not getting any younger. How long can I possibly keep this up? I need to get my priorities in order to achieve what I want out of life...

Let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we? To be honest, I rather "Laugh with the sinners, than to cry with the saints", so to speak. But if for some strange reason, there's some clerical mix-up with God's paperwork, and I end up in this magical concentration camp, I better have the same freedoms as people who are still living on earth do (Except for the prisoners at Guantanamo). For instance, let's say you die at the early age of 3 years old and you end up in heaven. Do you at least get a choice to what age you want to spend eternity as with a bunch of insecure, goody two- shoes, or is that not an option at all? If not, then deport my ass straight to hell as quickly as possible. Who wants to die as a baby and live in this invisible place in the sky, as one also? WTF?! Same goes for individuals who weren't fortunate enough to die before they reached 90 years old and had to experience adult diapers and the agony of seeing their loved ones die, before they did. I sure as hell don't want to end up as a senior citizen in heaven, either. If I could find a happy medium between the two, I'd like to die in my twenties...

I never tried to plan too far out ahead in my life and always took it day by day. I know some individuals would consider this type of behavior to be irresponsible, and maybe it is. But it's my life and I'm prepared to deal with the consequences. If I happen to die tomorrow, I'm happy how my life turned out and have no regrets. I lived it my way and by my own set of rules (That's the existentialist in me, coming out)...

"Life is what happens to you, when you're busy making other plans" -John Lennon

So stop planning out every detail of your life and live in the moment, for once. I know I will...

On a happier note, this made me laugh. Enjoy losers!!!



-Signing off from the trenches-

Father's Day Sonata

(Verse 1)
As a kid growing up
Always chose to be different
Wanted a better life than you provided
My path changed that instant
Went against everything you said
Nothing made any sense
Your words were just irrelevant
I had my mind set
So I...

(Chorus)
Wasted years off my life
Trying not to be like you
Pursuing the impossible
Making my dreams come true
Till one day I realized
The one thing I already knew
All roads lead somewhere
Mine leads back to you

(Verse 2)
Bitter throughout the years
Estranged to say the least
Kept chasing what I was after
You shook your head in disbelief
Resentment built up
Turned to the bottle for relief
Pipe dream is what you called it
I saw it as my destiny
To make something of myself
The man you couldn't bare to see
So I...

(Chorus)

(Verse 3)
As I grew older
The more I understood your point of view
Can't say I agree on how you handled it
But who the hell, would've knew
That it gave me the drive to succeed
Transform my dreams, to reality
So I...

Guess you can say, I owe it all to you.

Untitled
-C.a.M.-

Copyright: all material and content within this post is property of Chris Mendoza, and in no way shape or form may be copied, or reproduced. Permission is required to use any material within this post. © Chris Mendoza 2009 All Rights Reserved.

Nomadic Tendencies

I mentioned in a previous post, about how I would like to one day just pack up my things and move on a whim. Nowhere in particular. Just pick a direction to head towards and continue driving until I find a location, I want to explore for a while. Which I find weird because I don't really like to drive. Maybe it's the excitement and possible opportunity to start over in a new place , that propels me to overlook my constant hatred for driving a motor vehicle. Oh well, I'll just have to find out first hand. After I've exhausted all there is to experience at this juncture of my life, I pack up my things and repeat to a new destination. This lifestyle is known by many names such as a: vagrant, rogue, drifter, hobo, etc. I personally prefer the term vagabond/nomad. Sometimes I do wish I was a little more of the outdoors(y) type, so I could just go on a permanent nature retreat into the wild. That's something I've always wanted to do since I was a kid. But the chances of me surviving in the wilderness for a long period of time, with my current skills, are extremely slim. I do pride myself on literally being able to live just out of a duffel bag. I've always considered myself a simple man, with simple needs. During the way, I wouldn't even mind working odd jobs to fund this self-exploration project. I truly believe the life of a nomad suits me well. Always constantly on the move, traveling from one town to another. Maybe helping a few people along the way, while kicking a little bad guy ass, wouldn't hurt either. Sound a little familiar? Life's too short to spend the rest of your remaining years, trapped behind a tiny cubicle without a view of the outside world and what it has to offer. In my eyes, life is all about experiences. I sure as hell want to experience as much of this world as I can, good or bad. I'll take it as I get it. But to wake up every single morning, just to leave your loved ones, only to join the rat race for measly pay check. Nah! No, thanks. Not for me. I rather take the low road and keep my dignity. I like this quote from F.D.R. : "We, and all others who believe in freedom as deeply as we do, would rather die on our feet than live on our knees." So the rat race continues...

I do enjoy the extravagant pleasures; life has to offer, from time to time. But eventually that life gets old. That's why it doesn't amaze me when I read about millionaires/billionaires spending their vast amounts of money on non-essential items and lavish parties, instead of actually trying to make a difference in this world. The ability to have just about anything your heart desires at your beckon call, eventually starts to become dull. Who would've knew, right? Unfortunately for the majority of our society, which are the 'have-nots', we keep striving until we reach this pinnacle, where we can finally be upgraded into that 35% tax bracket, like it's something to be proud of. At times, I think the only reason the rich donate to charities is because they can write it off on their taxes. Imagine if they couldn't, would they really be willing to pull out their check books to write hefty amounts, to complete strangers? The only advantage I'd really savor from being wealthy, is the financial independence that comes along with it. The complete freedom and piece of mind that equate with not having to worry about paying bills, taxes or just wondering where your next pay check is coming from. In my opinion, that's priceless. Fuck becoming rich just to own material shit, though that's a plus, but I'm in it for the financial freedom. Say it with me now. Financial Freedom. Damn, just the thought brings a smile to my face. As of yet, it's the only reason why I haven't chosen the drifter lifestyle...

I also wish life had signs like the picture above. Just clean cut and dry. No unexpected surprises. Don't get me wrong. Surprises are what keep life interesting and you just have to learn how to roll with the punches. But sometimes, I'd just like to have a sign that let's me know I'm headed in the right direction. Whether it be a visual indication or just some random stranger telling you: "You're on the right track." But I guess, if life were so simple, it really wouldn't be worth living and just become stagnant.

Somehow I believe, hitting the road on my own (Scout included), will help steer me in the direction where I feel my mind is finally at ease.

"I like songs about drifters - books about the same.
They both seem to make me feel a little less insane.
Walk on off to another spot.
I still haven't gotten anywhere that I want.
Did I want love? Did I need to know?
Why does it always feel like I'm caught in an undertow?"

-The World At Large by: Modest Mouse-

This song is always playing in the back of my mind, when I think about packing up and leaving to a new place. Only time will tell on how long I can fight these tendencies...

-Signing off from the trenches-

For The Love Of God!

If there is any God/invisible supreme being in that vast space we call the sky, please make this shit happen. I would sell my first unborn child to witness this live event. I'm still upset about the fact I've never had that chance to see my two favorite rappers (Nas and Jay-Z), both on the same stage, performing side by side. That experience would easily be one of the best moments of my life. If I still lived in New York, then it wouldn't be a problem. Hot 97 holds Summer Jam every June. Unfortunately, I live in Orlando, where there's no hip-hop festivals like Summer Jam or Rock The Bells in California. If this show were to happen, it would literally go down in hip-hop history, as one of the greatest mc battles of all time. Mos Def already picked out his team (supposing all the rappers he named agreed to join his team) and since he generously bestowed Kanye West to Jay's team, if Jay so chooses to pick him up, I'd like to see Jay opt these rappers as his other teammates as well: Eminem, Common, Talib Kweli and Lil' Wayne. You're probably wondering why I chose the latter mc, it's only because Mos Def mentioned in a previous interview, that he could beat him in a battle as well. So the ballot would look something like this:

Battle Royale
Mos Def x Black Thought x Doom x Jay Electronica x Nas
Vs.
Jay-Z x Kanye West x Eminem x Common x Talib Kweli x Lil' Wayne

I consider myself a "Hip-Hop Head" and would pay major coin to be present, when all this goes down. Plus all the proceeds go to charity, so it's a win, win situation for everyone. To see all these amazing artists sharing the same stage, battling it out, would be like watching The Beatles in concert, during the 60's. Once in a lifetime and straight bananas! I've been fortunate enough to see The Roots and Jay-Z in concert, twice (not together of course), when they toured through Orlando a few years back. If you ever get the opportunity to watch either of them in concert, I suggest you do. You won't be sorry and it's worth every penny. I know you're probably wondering which team I'm rooting for, since both of my favorite rappers could possibly be on opposing teams. But I'm not even going to debate on that yet till this battle becomes official. Even though the chances are slim that this could ever happen in the near future, I'm still keeping my fingers crossed. Amen to that!

Not So Fresh...

Here a few things this week, I am not too ecstatic about:

1. This unbearable hot and humid weather were having in June. It literally feels like I'm baking in a damn oven. If there wasn't any humidity, then it wouldn't feel like my skin was melting. It also doesn't help that the a/c in my car isn't that great either. My hats off to construction workers or any person who performs manual labor outside, during the summer. I just couldn't do it. I rather be working in an air conditioned office, behind a stupid desk, than to sweat my ass off all day in the Florida heat. It makes me just want to bask around indoors all day, until the sun sets and I can finally step outside to show my face. What a waste of a summer, right? Not to mention the dangers of contracting skin cancer if you stay outside too long. When I lived up north, I always loved to play outside, whether it be playing sports, riding my bike/skating, or just playing in the woods. Since I've moved down to Orlando, I stay indoors most of the day unless I have to absolutely leave the comfort of central air conditioning, to deal with the sweltering sun. Sometimes, I wonder why my ass still resides here. I can't bare the humidity, yet I still choose not to move back up north, where it's much cooler. I rather deal with blizzards and blistering cold weather, than to bake in this god forsaken state. I guess it's because the cost of living up north is so expensive compared to down south. I'm not saying I loathe Florida, but it's definitely not for me. Especially during the summer season. I've always considered it a great place to vacation and visit from time to time, but not to actually live in. I'm more of a big city type who perfers cooler weather than Florida has to offer, which explains why I enjoy traveling to other big cities during the winter time, ie. Toronto or Chicago. I hope to move back up north in the future, and by up north, I mean northeast. One of these days I'm just gonna pack up all my shit and just leave this hell mouth, without notice. I enjoy spontaneity. Did I mention I've always wanted to live like a gypsy/nomad? No? Well, I do. I'm a pack rat when it comes to storage boxes, just in case I feel like moving on a whim. My room is littered with all sorts of empty boxes, ready to be packed with non-essential items. To be honest, I can really just live out of my duffel bag and do without all the material bullshit. As much as I'd like to talk about dreams of becoming a vagabond, let's not get off tangent. One things for sure, I'm really dreading how hot it's going to be in July & August...
   
2. Having to pay full price ($399-$499) for the iPhone 3G S, due to the fact I can't extend my existing contract with At&t Wireless, until it actually expires. Stupid money hungry corporate tyrants! My friend David made the smart move by paying full price for the 3G iPhone without signing a contract, when it dropped last year and is still eligible for an equipment upgrade. Which means he can buy the new phone as advertised and not have to cough up full price, like me.
   
3. Yankees getting swept by the Redsox this week, for a second time this season. Now they're 8-0 against the Yanks. WTF?! This hasn't happened since 1912 and this season has just begun. They were playing so well on the road before they stepped into Fenway. Now I gotta hear it from annoying Redsox fans till July, which is when they'll meet again and have a chance to redeem themselves. If you've been following this so-called blog of mine for a while, you'll know by the very first post I wrote, how much I enjoy this heated rivalry. I guess it could be worse. At least they're only 2 games out of 1st place in the AL East...
4. Last but not least, the Magic. What can I say that hasn't been said by anyone who witnessed last night's deplorable disaster. They blow a 12 point lead after half and end up losing to the Lakers in overtime. 12 fucking points! They haven't lead by that much during a game against the Lakers the entire series, but still figure a way to screw it all up. Talk about heart breaking. I wouldn't call myself a die hard Orlando Magic fan, but one things for sure, I don't want Kobe winning another Championship. If the Magic didn't happen to make the Finals, I'd be cheering for Lebron and the Cavaliers. Call me a "Kobe Hater" all you want, I won't deny it. Don't get me wrong, he's one of the best to ever play the game, but there's something about his character that screams "I'm a cocky douche bag!!!". Which is kind of sad, since I never met the guy, yet I'm already judging his character. Anyway, enough talking about that rat looking ass hole. Here are a few of my observations/opinions on what led to the Magic's Game 4 demise:

• Not making their free throws. WTF?! There free?! Maybe not free if it was a hard foul, but nether the less, there free. Sometimes I'd like to ask this question, when a superstar misses their free throws: "Did you want to get fouled without any repercussions?" Come on! You get the opposing player/team in foul trouble and have a chance to score more points for your team. It's a win, win! The game could've been easily won, if this feat was accomplished. I'm not saying any names. Ahem, Dwight Howard! I know there's a lot of pressure to make them, especially if you're not playing on your home court, but you get paid millions of dollars to put the ball in the hoop. So you could at least make in your "free" shots. I'm just sayin'...
• This is my favorite. Choosing to play Jameer Nelson during the last minutes of the 4th quarter. That's a dead give away. Stan Van Gundy should've known better than that, if not he should have his fucking head examined. For Christ sakes, the guy hasn't played a full game since February! He also hasn't been shooting that well since he came back. I wonder what the hell was going through Van Gundy's mind when he came across this idiotic tactic. Nelson didn't even defend Derek Fisher during the Lakers last possesion in regulation. He just carelessly watched as Fisher made a 3 pointer to tie the game, like any other spectator in the stands. The smarter move would've been to play Rafer Alston, who was playing much better and has been playing great defense during the Finals. Now it's "Do or Die" in L.A. Good job team!
  

Anyway, the weekend is here and I'm not letting these minor concerns, destroy my mood. Neither one is life threatening and can always work out later down the road. Listen to me, being all optimistic. That's a first. Guess, I'm just trying to walk on the sunny side of the street now a days. Plus I'm still hoping to visit my friends Mike & Nicole in Chicago next month. My good friend Mike is flying from Vegas, to spend his birthday in his hometown. I haven't been back up there since NYE '07, which were good times. Also, I can finally visit family, which I didn't get to do last time I was there. I'm really hoping to party it up with friends and my cousins for a couple of days. I can't wait! Oh, how I love Summertime Chi. Till next time folks...

-Signing off from the trenches-

Addicted to Love

Have you ever had one of those relationships that start off like some cheesy romantic novel or something straight out of a chick flick? The type you hope that each precious second, you'll always be together? The kind of love affair that you both cuddle in bed all day, never wanting to leave each others side, only just to use the bathroom. You constantly find yourself thinking about them while your at work, hanging out with your friends, eating, or just driving back home. Sometimes you feel as if, you were to both separate, your life would cease to exist as you know it. Then you start to slowly distance yourself from everyone you know, like a hermit or that crazy cat lady, you once felt sorry for. Your friends consistently give you shit for blowing them off and not returning their calls...

As the years go by, things starts to become stagnant and you can't help but feel this relationship has lost it's "spark". The days becomes repetitive and uneventful. You find yourself stuck in this every day routine, where you feel like your best days have come and gone. That there's nothing more, life can possibly offer you. Then you begin to realize that you've both grown apart and aren't the same two people you once were, when you first met. You try numerous attempts to sit down and have "the talk", but can't seem to get the words out of your mouth. At times, you have doubts that what you're about to do is huge mistake. You've made countless efforts to be the strong individual and break it off, but yield the result of making up the very next week. Suddenly you become "that person" in an "on and off again" relationship, you once lectured your best friend about. But the longer you stay in this relationship, the more you feel like you're losing your dignity. Till one day, you finally grow the balls to break their heart. Yeah, "She really had a hold on me...", but it was for the best. I see her from time to time, at some random party, always cuddled up with another guy every time we meet. We occasionally hang out and catch up on what's going on in each others life, but understand we're both better off as friends...

Ah, yes. I remember the first time I met "Mary Jane" and how she had my mind in a daze, the moment we locked lips. I felt like I was floating on cloud 9 and never wanted to come back down. When I hear that Rick James record, I can't help but smile and think back to the amazing moments we shared. Whether it be a day packed with copious amount of hours watching Planet Earth dvds on the couch, or eating piles of junk food and pizza like ravenous zombies, while downing a frozen cherry slurpee. Oh, to be young again and not care about how many brain cells you destroy...

Ugh.

Well, we've all heard the saying: "She's got daddy issues". Fact is, I'm not a she and I've learned to deal with my own "daddy issues" with my father. Not to say that I haven't had any issues with my mother, but I've always had this deep resentment for my father. As far as I can remember, my father has always been a prick, who constantly complained about his life, yet did nothing to change his current situation. I swear the man breathed only to complain, even more than my mother. He'll complain about money, work, and the house not being cleaned. Whatever he didn't find suitable, he'd always find a way to complain about it. As I think of it, I don't think I've ever heard him say anything optimistic in my life. I think my father always thought the world was out to punish him. In turn, he'd take his frustrations out on the family. I'm not trying to paint my father as a horrible monster, that beat his wife and children. No, he's far from that. But at times his verbal tirade wore everyone down. If he was a chick, his name would be Debbie Downer. As the eldest son, he's always given me shit for not being a good example for my younger brothers. Did I mention, I've always considered myself the black sheep of the family? No? Well, I am. In my parent's eyes, I was their "problem child" that was always getting into trouble in school or sometimes with the law. Yes, I've had my occasional run-ins with Johnny Law, usually being out late past curfew or cutting class, but never anything to be considered a certified, juvenile delinquent. I've just always had a problem with authority, being told what I can and cannot do. What can I say? I've always been a rebel since I was a kid. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't the kid who constantly got into fights to prove I was a bad ass or consistently served after school detention for something stupid. No, that wasn't me. I was the kid who stayed out later than he was suppose to, or who snuck out late at night and took the car for a joy ride when I didn't have a license. That was me. When I was younger, I was the quietest out of 4 children. I was often reticent and well behaved. I still am at times. But as I got older, compared to my angelic siblings, I was considered "Satan's Little Helper." Neither my older sister nor younger brothers, rarely got into any type of trouble. Guess, when I reached puberty, my rebellion went into maximum overdrive. It also didn't put my parents at ease, that I've always hung out with an older crowd. So you can imagine, what might be going through their minds during that point of my teenage years.

This particular story takes place not too long before, what I considered myself hitting rock bottom. I was 17 year old senior in high school, who was barely passing any of his classes. Not to mention, a dear friend of mine who just recently passed away. I took my friend's death to heart and started to lose faith in humanity, let alone myself. I had my own personal demons I was trying to conquer and thoughts of suicide I tried to erase from my mind. I was taking any type of drug that would help me evade dealing with reality. I was seriously depressed and turned into a self-destructive alcoholic. Remember that scene from "Leaving Las Vegas" , where Nicholas Cage is drinking a bottle of vodka while he's taking a shower? That was me. I was hanging out late during school weeks, and sometimes never made it home till the next day. I was losing focus in school. No, actually more like shifting that focus on making money, which I felt was more important at the time. Being that my parents never really had much money to buy my siblings and I, anything that wasn't essential for survival or our education. Luckily, we had aunts and uncles who understood my families situation, and tried to spoil us every chance they could get. Anyway, hanging out with an older crowd, you tend to get envious when your friends can afford to buy nice things with money they've made for themselves. Ever since I was 16 years old and without any transportation to work, I found myself entrenched in the dealings of the underworld. The "fast life" combined with the one I was currently living my senior year, wasn't helping at all. Damn it, now I've gone off tangent. Maybe I'll post that story another day... In short of what I was feeling, I would've be considered clinically depressed and worse, a lost soul with no where to go. All of these variables bunched together during the heart of that transition, when you evolve from an teenager to an adult, really took it's toll on my mind and body.

Anyway, back to what I was getting at. Everyone in their lifetime, one time or another, has had someone that didn't believe in them for whatever reason(s) and it was your sole mission in life, to prove him/she wrong. I've experienced this life changing situation during this period of my life. Great timing, right? Life really loves to play it's silly games when you least expect it. Anyway, It was the day my father and I got into it because I was failing high school and the possibility of not graduating on time. During the shouting match, he told me that: "You're gonna grow up to be nothing but a bum, like your friends..." That wasn't the exact statement, but something to that extent. Ouch, right? Being the man that my father is, you'd think I'd be immune to anything that comes out his mouth. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case. Hearing those words come out of someone who was suppose to love you and stand behind you no matter what you do, altered my life from then on out. It was really the last thing I wanted to hear during this trivial point in my life. I really could've used some words of encouragement, but was dealt the opposite. I can honestly say it really fucked me up, coming from my own father and what I was going through at that time. Even to this day, I'm afraid to have children in fear I may lose my temper and say something that could be so detrimental to their future. They say: "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me." I call bullshit! They say: "For me to value your opinion, I must first respect you." Well I lost a lot of respect for my father that day. It's just one of those things, if they had a parenting hand book, that you should never say to your kids. Too bad parenting nor life, comes with instructions. I've learned from the whole situation and it's helped make me the man I am today. I rarely drink anymore and laid off the drugs...

Needless to say, I busted my ass in night school to prove my father wrong and graduate with the rest of my high school class. But my relationship with my father, never really recovered after that argument. I understand now, where he was coming from and what he was trying to do, which was push me to succeed. I just believe the situation could've been handled with a lot more compassion. After I graduated, I moved out and pretty much cut all my ties with my parents. At one point, I didn't speak to them for 6 months, and I only lived 15 minutes away. I don't even know why I decided to write this post, maybe because Father's Day is approaching and it's a day I really don't look forward to. It's been an on going process to salvage whatever relationship I have left with my mother and father. I've always told others that my parents are good people, just not good parents. I've learned to accept my mother for who she is and her stubborn ways. If you ever call me stubborn, that's who I get it from. As for my father, we've become estranged as far as father and sons go. I see him more as a friend than a father figure and I'm okay with that...

Exception To My Rule

I usually don't like artists covering other band's music, but I'll definitely make an exception here...

Iron and Wine's cover of Love Vigilantes by: New Order

Buy me these and...

(via oliviaallin)

(via jawsandstarwarsagree)

we can live here, happily ever after...

(via oliviaallin)

There Is Always Hope...

So Friday night, I met up with a few friends at Dexter's, in Thornton Park, for a couple of drinks. I usually don't make my way around that area, but decided to, on account of bidding farewell to our friend Joe, who's moving to Tampa. It's kind of ironic that a few weeks back, we were welcoming Carlo back to town, and now this week another friend is moving out. Guess it's like that saying: "For every person who dies, another is born." Oh Life! You and your silly games. Anyway, we started with a few drinks at Dexter's and soon migrated over to Burton's, to switch it up, since we hardly drink in that area. Around midnight, everyone started to bail and head home. WTF?! We only started drinking around 9:30pm and I wouldn't even consider it heavy, "Let's get wasted", drinking at all. What a tease? It's like only sticking in the tip! I know we're all older now and don't drink as much as we used to, but give me a fucking break. We were mostly drinking beers for Christ sake and only had a round of shots. Come on! It's not like we were all recovering from a rough night of drinking, the night before. I tried my feeble attempt to coax a few friends to stick around, but to no avail. It's bad enough we only go out drinking once a week, but to call it a short night, really blows. I didn't plan to get completely wasted, but to at least stay out a little longer, since I hardly go out anymore. Sometimes I think, I need to make new friends.

In my mind, there was no way I was calling it a night, especially that early. Seeing that both establishments were pretty dead and filled with douche bags, I decided to make my way downtown. Just me, myself and I. I hoped to run into someone I knew, so that I wouldn't look like a complete alcoholic, drinking by myself at the bar. My first stop, Matador. I had a beer and caught up with my friend Christina, who bar tends there. I really like the place. Everyone who works there is madd cool and super friendly. Plus the place doesn't get really crowded, like most bar in the area. Also, my friend Eric offered to give me one of his old decks to mess around with, so I didn't have to buy a complete, new set. Cool! Luckily, making my way upstairs, I ran into my friend Leo. We talked for a bit. My plan was to finish off my night at BBQ Bar and hopefully meet up with Celina. I haven't really seen her since Nicole came down to visit, which was in March. Considering it was almost 1am, I downed my beer and said my good-byes.

Like any typical weekend, downtown was riddled with the same crowds of people, drinking their cares away into complete oblivion. So why not join them, right? I made my way down the crowded streets of Orange Ave. and finally made it to my final destination. Final destination? I don't like the sound of that. It sounds like a resting place to die and stay for eternity, which wouldn't be too bad of a place to spend it, minus the cigarette smoke. Anyway, I cut the stupid line to get into BBQ, and was greeted warmly by Elvis aka Jeb, the bouncer. There's just something about the place that makes me feel accepted and right at home. Maybe it's the tattooed patrons, indie/hip-hop music, or just the foul stench of cigarette smoke, that make feel comfortable when I'm there. Even though it's become over populated with bros on the weekends, I still consider it Orlando's only, dive bar. Don't get me wrong, I've done my share of partying it up at nice clubs. As I got older, I was tired of wearing dress shirts and nice shoes, just to go out drinking at some mediocre night club. I was more comfortable wearing a t-shirt and kicks at a local bar. Anyway, everything worked out, since I ran into Celina and Justin. She introduced me to her friend Beth, who just got a super rad hair cut. It looked really cute on her. We drank till the lights came on and they had to kick us out. I love shutting places down. Stupid Orlando and it's 2pm drinking law!

If there's any moral to this stupid story, it's to never give up. I could've easily gone home after Burton's, since I had no one to drink with, but I was determined to enjoy the rest of the night and made the best of it. True, my so-called determination was fueled by alcohol, but generally speaking, I refused to give in. As I've gotten older, I've learned to not stress myself out, with situations I can't control. In my mind, everything happens for a reason. I just try to make the best of the cards, that I've been dealt. You can either fold or continue to play. In the end, it all worked out. Even though I spent the majority of my Saturday recovering, it was well worth it. I like to tell people: "When all seems lost, there is always hope."

On a side note, I got high last night and decided to watch "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button". Definitely a good call. I've been meaning to see it, since it was written by one of my favorite authors, F. Scott Fitzgerald. Overall, it was a great adaptation of the short story.


Well hopefully, everyone had a lovely weekend. If not, maybe this will cheer you bastards up. Look, it's a Red Panda! I want one so bad.





-Signing off from the trenches-

Prepare To Engage, In 5,4,3,2...

(photo via rachelunleashed)

So, um... Hi. Great party, huh? I see you know Dan. That's funny because I know Dan. That's so crazy! What are the odds, right? Uh, no, I wasn't staring at your chest. I was just admiring your tattoo. I have a couple myself, you know. So, you live around here? I stay right down the street. Maybe you can come over and we can swap tattoo stories. I even have an extra sleeping bag. We can have sleep over and I'll make you blueberry Eggo waffles for breakfast. You like pizza bagels? Man, I love those things. No, I don't know why I'm sweating so much. Uh, yeah, maybe you can settle an argument between my friend over there, yeah the guy who's eating all the cheese puffs, and myself. He doesn't think your carpet matches the drapes, if you know what I mean. Where as I think they do. Wait, where are you going?! We haven't exchanged numbers yet. What do you mean you don't believe in phones?! Um, let me guess. You don't want everyone up in your business. I'm the same way, babe. I get it. It's your nonchalant way of telling me, I'm getting laid tonight. That's cool. Don't worry, I'll play along. Give me a minute before you come over, I gotta grab the sleeping bag out of my tree fort, or as I like to call it, After Party Central.

Few Seconds Of Fame

Big thanks to Knight for posting my tattoo on his tumblr, Fuck Yeah, Tattoos! and for those who reblogged his post.

Loose Lips, Sink Ships

I was digging through an old shoe box of photographs the other day, when I came across this picture of you. It brought to mind the first day we met, like it was only yesterday. I even remember that vintage, pink dress you wore that summer afternoon. You looked so innocent, as if you didn't have a care in the world. As I recall, we met in the fiction section of a Barnes & Nobles, while looking for the same book. Seeing as it was the last copy of The Catcher in the Rye on the shelf, I kindly insisted you have it. In return, you gave me a smile that will forever be embedded in my mind. As you walked off, I couldn't help but feel like I was letting something wonderful get away. But I shook it off and proceeded to ask the clerk if there were anymore copies in stock; when you came back and generously offered to let me borrow it once you were finished. I guess you must have felt the same way too and that's what brought you back. We exchanged numbers and everything took off from there. The more we got to know each other, the more we fell deeply in love. Everything was moving so quickly. One week, we're just dating; and then the following week, you're moving into my apartment. Our friends thought we were crazy and making a big mistake, but we didn't give damn. We were young and madly in love.

I'll never forget that day I came home from work, to find you waiting by the front door with your hands behind your back. At that moment, you reminded me of a little girl who was dreading being scolded by her parents. You looked so adorable. We've been together about a year at this point. You said that you had a surprise for me and not to look. As I closed my eyes, you had me hold out my hands. You placed your soft, fragile palms on top of mine and said: "Now, look down." I anxiously opened them to find you had those words tattooed on the outside of your hands. I was taken back at first, since you chose one of my favorite sayings to have tattooed in such a visible spot on your body. But I could tell from the look in your eyes, to that beautiful smile on your face, it was your way of telling the world you loved me. I don't think I've ever experienced unconditional love, until that very moment. Some days when I get into my car, right before I put the key in the ignition, I sit back, close my eyes and think of how your face lit up with sheer joy that evening. My only regret is that I never got to tell you how much that romantic gesture meant to me. Sometimes, I can't believe it's already been five years since you passed away that very, same night...