My finacee is Mexican. Her Mexican father had intercourse with her Mexican mother and they had a pretty little mexican baby. This isnt really a problem as I too am Mexican. Sadly, my parents did not have sex as I was brought into this world in some other way. I just had to be. Some may think by Stork. I like to believe I was brought into this world in a beam of light with seraphim and celebration a plenty. I guess thats just the realist in me.
Now this girl, she is much more Mexican than I am. You see if being ethnic were a candy she would be a halloween fun bag mix and I would be an after dinner mint, which really isnt a candy at all.
The most glaring depiction of how Mexican she is would be the amount of cousins she has. Every couple of months a new story brings to the forefront the fact that she has a cousin I previously did not know about. I have known her for eleven years and was only recently told about a cousin Frank that used to live in Northern Califonia. There can be only one of two logical conclusions to this phenomenon. She is a brilliant liar that chooses to lie about really boring shit like how many cousins she has or she is Mexican.
I guess this wouldnt be a problem if she identified them with a name every once in a while. Instead she chooses to use the descriptor "cousin" with no follow up name. So if she says oh my cousin said this or my cousin said that, I have to mentally calculate the odds that she is talking about one of 57 people. And thats one side of the family.
She also knows Spanish. This really doesnt equate her to being really ethnic. Rather, it shows how uncultured I myself am. My parents are both fluent in Spanish. The amount of spanish I speak however, is relegated to asking for the bathroom and stating that I am hungry. All in all I could probably live in Mexico without missing a beat.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Around the Association - Jan 25th
All-Stars
Proving once again that the general populace can be trusted with not even the slightest of responsibilities, Allen Iverson was voted into the Eastern Conference All-Stars. The NBA did side step embarrassment when Tracy McGrady was finally outpaced in voting. This did not deter the public at large from voting in Iverson as a starter in this year’s festivities. Granted the East is this year’s equivalent of the short yellow bus, but there are more deserving guards in the Association.
Iverson has played a grand total of 19 games. Those 19 games were not grand or spectacular. Allen Iverson is a mediocre player attempting 14 shots a night. What happened to the glory days of chucking up 25-30 a game? Diminished skills are not the only reason he should be watching from home February 14th. Karma should have a say as well. He mentally and physically quit on the Grizzlies forcing them to trade him away. Time and again this type of action gets rewarded in sports. Iverson gets a homecoming to the team that started his career, as well as an undeserved All-Star bid.
Blake Griffin
Blake had successful knee surgery which will keep him resting 4-6 months. He hopes to be back and training by summer. This should give him ample time to get well enough to re-injure himself before the start of the 2010-2011 season.
Dunks
This week, the lineup for the Slam Dunk contest was finalized. It is by far the worst lineup to date. All participants can dunk with creativity I am sure. But there is not a celebrity amongst them. Nate Robinson will return, again. It was tremendous to see what he did the first and second times around. But I get it now. You’re small. You dunk. Congratulations!
In what reeks of desperation, the NBA will have a dunk off between Eric Gordon and DeMar DeRozan for the final dunk spot. Really, a play-in game for the Dunk Contest. How has the play-in idea worked for the NCAA?
Proving once again that the general populace can be trusted with not even the slightest of responsibilities, Allen Iverson was voted into the Eastern Conference All-Stars. The NBA did side step embarrassment when Tracy McGrady was finally outpaced in voting. This did not deter the public at large from voting in Iverson as a starter in this year’s festivities. Granted the East is this year’s equivalent of the short yellow bus, but there are more deserving guards in the Association.
Iverson has played a grand total of 19 games. Those 19 games were not grand or spectacular. Allen Iverson is a mediocre player attempting 14 shots a night. What happened to the glory days of chucking up 25-30 a game? Diminished skills are not the only reason he should be watching from home February 14th. Karma should have a say as well. He mentally and physically quit on the Grizzlies forcing them to trade him away. Time and again this type of action gets rewarded in sports. Iverson gets a homecoming to the team that started his career, as well as an undeserved All-Star bid.
Blake Griffin
Blake had successful knee surgery which will keep him resting 4-6 months. He hopes to be back and training by summer. This should give him ample time to get well enough to re-injure himself before the start of the 2010-2011 season.
Dunks
This week, the lineup for the Slam Dunk contest was finalized. It is by far the worst lineup to date. All participants can dunk with creativity I am sure. But there is not a celebrity amongst them. Nate Robinson will return, again. It was tremendous to see what he did the first and second times around. But I get it now. You’re small. You dunk. Congratulations!
In what reeks of desperation, the NBA will have a dunk off between Eric Gordon and DeMar DeRozan for the final dunk spot. Really, a play-in game for the Dunk Contest. How has the play-in idea worked for the NCAA?
Monday, January 11, 2010
Worst Night of His Life
This is not the title to my worst night ever. To the contrary it was at worst an uncomfortable situation for me. This was the worst night for him, the both of hims. I was about to take away an only daughter and lone sister for good. And I had the balls to be excited about it. I would be asking for my girlfriend's hand in marriage.
There I sat in the living room I had sat in a number of times before. About to ask a question I had dreaded from the moment I first met my girlfriend's father. You see, to my girlfriend her father is a teddy bear. A soft protector that could be coddled into submission with a simple embrace from his princess.
To me, he was a mythical ruthless killer about to explode in a rage of random violence. At least that was how I saw things moments prior to me asking for his daughter's hand in marriage. So I beat around the bush. I beat the crap out of that bush. I was genius. I went from the weather to Los Angeles infrastructure to proper ways to mulch and liven one's garden. But soon there was a pause.
"Ok. Let me go get Mrs. Girlfriend's mom." The trained assassin said before exiting the room. I sat. I rehearsed. I looked at the door once, maybe twice.
I went for the band-aid approach. I stuttered out what must have sounded like "your daughter good...me like...please want."
The father was stunned. What he was hoping for in a nice night of pleasant banter turned into the equivalent of me asking for both his kidneys and a lung.
While the father looked at me with a glare of a man trying to remember where he last placed his shiv, I heard from her mother cries of joy. I in turn was, relieved. Mom was happy! Yay! Father was warming. But then I remembered...brother.
Brother is the nicest guy in the world. But in my head, as I waited for him to get home from work, he was a hardened pugilist that was trained in the fine arts of dumping bodies and leaving no trace. But again my fears went unfulfilled.
I left that night feeling welcomed. I couldn't be more excited to be a part of such a loving and caring family.
Oh yeah, now I have to ask the girlfriend.
There I sat in the living room I had sat in a number of times before. About to ask a question I had dreaded from the moment I first met my girlfriend's father. You see, to my girlfriend her father is a teddy bear. A soft protector that could be coddled into submission with a simple embrace from his princess.
To me, he was a mythical ruthless killer about to explode in a rage of random violence. At least that was how I saw things moments prior to me asking for his daughter's hand in marriage. So I beat around the bush. I beat the crap out of that bush. I was genius. I went from the weather to Los Angeles infrastructure to proper ways to mulch and liven one's garden. But soon there was a pause.
"Ok. Let me go get Mrs. Girlfriend's mom." The trained assassin said before exiting the room. I sat. I rehearsed. I looked at the door once, maybe twice.
I went for the band-aid approach. I stuttered out what must have sounded like "your daughter good...me like...please want."
The father was stunned. What he was hoping for in a nice night of pleasant banter turned into the equivalent of me asking for both his kidneys and a lung.
While the father looked at me with a glare of a man trying to remember where he last placed his shiv, I heard from her mother cries of joy. I in turn was, relieved. Mom was happy! Yay! Father was warming. But then I remembered...brother.
Brother is the nicest guy in the world. But in my head, as I waited for him to get home from work, he was a hardened pugilist that was trained in the fine arts of dumping bodies and leaving no trace. But again my fears went unfulfilled.
I left that night feeling welcomed. I couldn't be more excited to be a part of such a loving and caring family.
Oh yeah, now I have to ask the girlfriend.
Oops
I fell in love about 11 years ago. It was the beginning of my freshman year of college so I may have been drunk. It could also have very well been love. I met a girl that put up with my drunken debacles, food binges, confusing meanderings, and so on. I gained a good 60 pounds since I first laid eyes on her. Whose fault that is is still up for debate, but the fact that she is as gorgeous as the day I met her is not open for conjecture.
So what happened? Well responsible waiting turned into static emotions which turned into a brief break-up a couple of years back. I call this the dark years while she cleverly refers to this as a welcomed sigh of relief. As fate would have it I found myself on bended knee at a Southern California beach near midnight on December 19th, 2009.
I did not trip or stumble but fell. I fell 11 years ago and it took me over a decade to take a knee. So it begins. My short journey to matrimony. I hope to keep you up-to-date with what I am sure will be a carefree campaign to bliss.
So what happened? Well responsible waiting turned into static emotions which turned into a brief break-up a couple of years back. I call this the dark years while she cleverly refers to this as a welcomed sigh of relief. As fate would have it I found myself on bended knee at a Southern California beach near midnight on December 19th, 2009.
I did not trip or stumble but fell. I fell 11 years ago and it took me over a decade to take a knee. So it begins. My short journey to matrimony. I hope to keep you up-to-date with what I am sure will be a carefree campaign to bliss.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Sakura's
Sometimes a dish can get overlooked when a restaurant specializes in other faire. The Huevos Racheros at El Tepeyac is probably the best breakfast dish in Los Angeles. It gets overlooked sadly because the place makes such great burritos. The “Godmother” sandwich from Bay Cities in Santa Monica is lauded as a crucial stop for all of those craving a delicious sandwich. Yet many would bypass a simple fresh loaf of bread from the place. The warm batch held in the back of the store is a must stop and grab.
I had the pleasure of stopping by one of the better sushi joints Culver City. Sakura’s on Centinela hardly ever misses with their sushi. But I was forced to order off the main menu this time as I was told they also had one of the better bowls of Ramen in town.
They do. The Tanmen is a cure all for what might ail you. It is an amalgamation of stir-fried beef, chicken, shrimp, pork, veggies, and ramen, Where other places make you choose your protein Sakura’s demands that you try to figure out which is your favorite. By the end of the meal I was still unsure so I must order this dish time and again until I figure it out.
I had the pleasure of stopping by one of the better sushi joints Culver City. Sakura’s on Centinela hardly ever misses with their sushi. But I was forced to order off the main menu this time as I was told they also had one of the better bowls of Ramen in town.
They do. The Tanmen is a cure all for what might ail you. It is an amalgamation of stir-fried beef, chicken, shrimp, pork, veggies, and ramen, Where other places make you choose your protein Sakura’s demands that you try to figure out which is your favorite. By the end of the meal I was still unsure so I must order this dish time and again until I figure it out.
Agent Zero Saga
The truth finally came out about the Gilbert Arenas saga. He is a prop comic. Agent Zero’s side of the story is that he was joking around with Javaris Crittenton when he invited him to choose one of three guns owned by Gilbert Arenas. Here are some questions I need answered:
Why three guns? Plaxico Buress saw fit to shoot himself in the leg with one gun. I am sure that Arenas could have done enough joke telling with one, maybe two guns. For me, three was a little hacky. Why not wear rainbow suspenders at that point.
Why have guns in the locker room? His statement is that he wanted to keep his four guns away from his children. For this reason, he moved only three of them to the locker room in D.C. I can only speculate that he kept a gun at his home in case he wanted to pull out any gun toting humor within the confines of his domicile.
Why resort to gun possession as a means to demean Crittenton? I for one could have seen a very brief but jarring exchange where Arenas, who allegedly welched on a bet, resorts to NBA name-calling. Crittenton does average 13 minutes and 5 points per game on his very short career.
This is a very humorous scenario where one very rich egomaniac bought a gun one day. Then he bought another, then another, then another. He found himself bored to death with not being able to use the damn things so he did the next best thing. He showed them off. If I know David Stern like I know I do, this will be the last thing he shows in a locker room for quite a while.
Why three guns? Plaxico Buress saw fit to shoot himself in the leg with one gun. I am sure that Arenas could have done enough joke telling with one, maybe two guns. For me, three was a little hacky. Why not wear rainbow suspenders at that point.
Why have guns in the locker room? His statement is that he wanted to keep his four guns away from his children. For this reason, he moved only three of them to the locker room in D.C. I can only speculate that he kept a gun at his home in case he wanted to pull out any gun toting humor within the confines of his domicile.
Why resort to gun possession as a means to demean Crittenton? I for one could have seen a very brief but jarring exchange where Arenas, who allegedly welched on a bet, resorts to NBA name-calling. Crittenton does average 13 minutes and 5 points per game on his very short career.
This is a very humorous scenario where one very rich egomaniac bought a gun one day. Then he bought another, then another, then another. He found himself bored to death with not being able to use the damn things so he did the next best thing. He showed them off. If I know David Stern like I know I do, this will be the last thing he shows in a locker room for quite a while.
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