So....rumor has it that Paul McCartney and John Lennon would say things like "Now, let's write a swimming pool." prior to writing a song. Well, at best, this is me writing a "diet coke."

I suppose that most of us see ourselves as good people. And maybe we are. But I happen to think that we tend to polish ourselves up a little bit when we come out of our cave. Whether it's licking our fingers to adjust the stray eyebrow hair, combing the mustache, or squeezing ourselves in our Spanx. And I dare say it's the same when we write things that will be read by others. And I don't necessarily think that this is a bad thing. I mean, what would happen if we didn't filter what we say at all? I'm betting we'd end up pissing someone off that we didn't mean to. Or make ourselves misunderstood simply by letting a few misguided words said in the heat of passion into what we submit on our blogs. It may be a fine line we walk...showing just enough of ourselves to warrant attention, and yet, possibly hiding our real thoughts and feelings so that we don't come off as A-holes.

Then there are those of us that leave the house in flip flops, jammies, and Woody Woodpecker hair. Those of us that write things that show our indifference. Negative criticisms, taboo subjects and hateful comments that leave most with a sour taste in their mouth. We wonder how it is that these people can live with themselves after dishing out so much ugliness to those around them. Trolls, pests, idiots, E-Thugs...we have many colorful names for them. I think we all know the type. Most of us ignore them, as we realize that it's a waste of time argue or protest. In the end, even if we win, we lose.

 I happen to think that if we just wrote whatever came to mind, without censorship, without worry, and how we felt at any given moment, we would find that all of us have the same capability to be at either side of the spectrum. I suppose that within our circle of friends or subscribers we have those that have been around long enough to know every side of us. We've dropped masks, shared real feelings, started real friendships, and have accepted each other as we are. We no longer feel the need to label a person as this, or that. We accept whatever is said, whether good or bad. Funny or not. Family. I guess that's what brings me back to this place.

Thoughts????

  So, several months ago I woke up feeling a mild lower back pain. I didn't think anything of it, I figured that it would go away. It didn't. It stated hurting more and more. I tried everything I could think of to make the pain, which was now getting bad, go away. Icey hot. Tiger Balm. Ice. Heat pads. Lit candles around the area, put out by putting a glass cup over them, creating super suction--yeah, don't ask. In fact everything short of magic spells. Nothing worked. The pain had gotten to the point where I'd roll around in bed, biting blankets, and trying to fight back tears. Like that.  So I did what I hated doing...I went to the Doctor. Now, I have good insurance, but I stay as far away from doctors, hospitals and physicians as humanly possible.

  As I sat in the room waiting for Dr Quack, PhD...the smell of latex gloves and unknown shenanigans permeating the air...I wondered if I really wanted to know what was wrong. No. I didn't. Not really. But I HAD to get some pain medicine.

  "Now, Mr. Cholo, on the scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the most pain you've ever felt in your life, how bad does it hurt?"

  "Wow. That's a tough one doc. You see, I've endured a hella (yes, that's a word) lot of pain in my life. I'd say about a 7 or 8."

  "Well, I'm sorry but we at this facility (IHC Care Center) are not allowed to give pain medicine."

  For a moment I thought of getting that stethoscope and wrapping it around his prehistoric neck and watching his leg twitch and spasm and he yielded me his last breath...but then I realized, I still didn't have any pain medicine. So I tried to explain (in vain) to him that it was REAL pain. The kind where I even thought of punching my kids when they came into my room during one of my moments of agony. I told him that I wasn't a pill popper or druggie. I told him that I had been to the doctor about 3 or 4 times in nearly a half century and that included the day of my birth! The bastard wouldn't budge. He said that the best he could do for me was give me some Tylenol (yeah, Tylenol) that I could pick up at the local Wamart pharmacy. I stood up and told him to exit the room and make way...that was the gist anyway, very much harsher language was used.

 Turns out after going to a private doctor-after them finding blood in my urine sample, and getting a CT Scan (after they injected some sort of hot fluid/dye that I felt travel through my veins and collect in my groin area)- I found out that I had kidney stones. Aha! Believe me when I tell you that those tiny meteorites ripping through my plumbing on their way to the pool was enough to make me almost tear up NOW just remembering the experience. And the funny thing is (it's actually not funny at all) that they gave me some kind of giant ice cream cone shaped thing with a fine mesh bottom to catch the critters, as piss splashed everywhere except through the filter. I suppose they sit and giggle amongst themselves in the break room as they picture grown mean crying while attempting this. Bastards!

 So, why am I sharing this? Hmm. I don't know. Maybe because I had nothing else to say? Sad thing is, even after going through this excruciating ordeal, if asked the same 1 to 10 question, I'd still rate it as a 7 or 8. lol.

 So a lot has happened around these parts. Very few old timers like myself left. This new weblog entry thing sucks! Or maybe I just hate change. I feel bad for not posting anything...but not too bad. I mean, it's not like I replaced my beloved Xanga for another blogging site, no. I just have real life issues to deal with. It feels good to come back though. Especially when I'm greeted by good friends who remember me from way back. Back when I used to crack myself up, or write something that I felt had substance. So, I've missed quite a bit. New Xanga blogs, different screen names, more drama, people getting married, Xanga book...wow.

 I don't really have anything funny to say, so I'll just talk about something that happened today.

 In my opinion, Lebron can no longer be mentioned in the greatest ever category. Why? Because he should have stayed and won a championship by making his team better. Not try and go somewhere where he doesn't have to put in the effort to build. Not to mention the fact that Ohio stayed loving and faithful regardless of the lack of a title. They loved him anyway, paid him what he wanted, and practically worshipped him there.  There are no shortcuts, Lebron. You'll find out that your lack of loyalty will come back to bite you in the ass! Chris Bosh, Dwayne Wade and you may be good players and it may look good on paper, but you're missing the blood, sweat and tears that are required to achieve anything great. When you come up against a team that has put in the effort, you'll see. Maybe once Kobe retires you can get a title. Just sayin'.

It seems that every time I come back to write it's always in an angry rant! Well, this time it will be different, I have nothing negative to say! Ok, not really. I do have something that's been eating away at me and I'm gonna vent here where only five people will read it...ha, ha. Ok, here it goes...

Maybe it's because I don't drink fluoridated water, or use toothpaste with fluoride in it, for that matter...but I have this inherent need to question things! It makes me angry to see all these artists (new ones this time) come together again to raise money for Haiti. And no, not because I see a dark political objective or because it isn't a good thing...it's because...well...because...

It was filmed/recorded at Henderson Studios on La Brea Avenue. And just like before, when it was recorded at A&M Recording studios in Hollywood, it is only a few minutes drive from a place where there are people starving and without shelter. At least some of those artists drove right past people living in horrendous conditions on their way to the studio. I just don't understand our way of thinking. Why do we feel the need to send money, food and clothing to third world nations when we have people in need here???

Sometimes I think it's kind of like taking your sweet ass time when the collection plate comes by at your church...just to make sure everyone sees you throw in a big wad of cash. Is it going to a good cause? Sure. But your reward is the praise of men, and not a heavenly one.

Don't get me wrong, what am I doing for Haiti? Nothing really. All I'm saying is that we don't have to go very far in search of finding someone to help. Why can't all these artists do the same for the people here? That's all I'm saying. Ahhhh. I feel better now. Thanks, Xanga!

***Oh, and for the record, I think someone needs to tel Wyclef that he messed up the song. And another thing, since when do Auto Tune/Vocodors count as singing??? 

Shut up! It's funny. I realize that it's not politically correct to even insinuate that being gay is wrong. And tell a gay joke and you'll be labeled as an intolerant, narrow minded, homophobic, son of perdition...but you know what? It's my site, so if you don't like it...besa mis nalgas! I say what I like.

I crack myself up. Seriously though...am I the only man left on this planet that still has the balls to say that this type of shit is just gross, if nothing else? Forget about right and wrong for a minute. All I'm saying is that it's pretty fucking gross.

I suppose that's relative to the person. I mean, to each his or her own, right? And I'm not the one to get up in your kool aid. It's your cornhole after all, and what you do with it is your own business. More power to you. I just don't care to see it. Can't we go back to the way it used to be? You know, in the comfort of your own home? Not back to the closet, no, not necessarily. Just semi private. I'm not asking you to be ashamed or embarrassed about your preference in mates. And I'm not shaking my uptight moral finger at you, or judging your choices in any way. After all, I'll probably be chillin' with Satan when I die. I just don't want to the movies with my family and see your nasty tongue lashings, and package grabbing. Is that too much to ask? I know it's pretty rad to be able to be able to be out in the open and you're all proud and whatnot...but can you please refrain from throwing your pride into the mainstream...or at least in normal places?

Like if I'm at a club or bar...that's accepted. If I happen to see it, I have to deal with it and just shut the fuck up. Why? Because it's that type of place. Hook up joints. And that's fine. But I don't want to see it while going to the store with my kids. You get what I'm saying?

I have no words.  Now I've seen it all.

Me duele el corazon al pensar que todos somos hijos de Dios. Siendo padre, comprendo el amor verdadero que le podemos tener a nuestros hijos. Un amor puro, perfecto, y sin malicia. Cuando uno de mis hijos se pelea con otro, o simplemente rehusa compartir algo que le pertenece, no lo entiendo. Esa tendencia inherente de egoismo que tenemos como humanos, lamentablemente, es inevitable. Lo se, porque nunca se los enseñe. Nunca lo vieron por un ejemplo mio. Sin embargo, lo demostraron de una edad temprana. Poco a poco, han aprendido a enseñarse, o disciplinarse hasta el grado de dejar esas tendencias entre hermanos. ¿Pero en realidad, no somos todos hermanos y hermanas? Lo leemos. Lo decimos. Lo sabemos. Lo predicamos desde el pulpito los Domingos. Pero son palabras sin valor. De diente. Cuando salimos de la iglesia y entramos al mundo, pasamos al lado de nuestros hermanos y hermanas sin ninguna clase de compasion o remordimiento. Y aun asi, nos valoramos como Cristianos. Cerramos los ojos a la disdicha de los demas, y pensamos que al final de todo vamos a entrar a la presencia de Dios con manos limpias. Y yo, que no me considero mas que basura...aun yo, veo la discrepancia en esa clase de ideologia. ¿Por que no lo ven los demas? No entiendo.

**Rough Translation (I wasn't going to)**

It hurts my heart to think that we are all children of God. Being a father, I understand the kind of true love that we can have for our own children. It's a pure love, perfect, and without malice. When one of my children fights with another, or even simply refuses to share something that belongs to them, I don't understand it. That inherent selfish tendency that we as humans all have, is regrettably inevitable. I know, because I never taught them that.They never saw it by my example. Nevertheless, they showed it from a young age. Little by little they've learned and disciplined themselves to the point of leaving those tendencies behind among brothers. But then, aren't we all brothers and sisters? We read that. We say that. We know that. We preach that from the pulpit on Sundays. But those are words without value.  (an idiom that doesn't translate). When we leave church and enter the real world, we pass alongside our brothers and sisters without any kind of compassion or remorse. Despite that, we value ourselves as Christians. We shut our eyes at the misfortunes of others, and we think that in the end we will enter the presence of God with clean hands. And I, that don't consider myself anything but trash...even I see the discrepancy in that type of ideology. Why can't others see it? I don't understand.

Catholic Church Offers Pre-Coital Prayer For The Pious

"...place within us love that truly gives, tenderness that truly unites, self-offering that tells the truth and does not deceive, forgiveness that truly receives, loving physical union that welcomes...."

I know, I know...I'm going to hell. I choose to come out of hiatus, only to post semi blasphemous rigmarole! But it struck me as funny. Why??? If you have to ask, then this post is probably not for you!

You see, I've heard of (and even practiced) the pull and pray method, but never any sort of "pre" prayer. Is it me, or ===>

How are you supposed to be ready after invoking god for the last five minutes? I just don't understand. Can anyone explain that?  Don't get me wrong, I believe there is a time and a place for prayer...just not before hittin' it, you know? Moving on....

I'm almost sure that I have some sort of cancer...and why not? I've been smoking for 30+ years now. I'm not complaining mind you, I'm just throwing that out there. If I was really that concerned about it, I'd go seek some medical foolery. But I'm not. These are in fact bonus years that I never thought I'd get to see. And I'm not really sure that I want to see  much more decline in our society. What the hell happened to the concept of respect? In my prime, I was ready to give my life for it. These days it seems that the word has no meaning. I find that very amusing. One man's trash, I suppose.

Kind of like books...reading entire series of books to be well educated on numerous subjects...and now, with Google and Wikipedia it only takes seconds to find answers. Now any yahoo can seem somewhat intelligent when arguing with you while hiding behind a computer. Oh well. So, I've been out of it, people...what's new????  

Oh man! If it's not one thing, it's another. I don't know about you guys, but I for one am sick of all this end of the world shit! Bring it bitches! I am so far past being scared. Sure, you might have got me with the Y2k shit...and then with the Bird Flu, and perhaps even SARS. But Swine Flu? Are you shitting me? Swine Flu? Give me a fuckin' break! You go from Anna Nicole Smith every ten seconds to life as we know it is gonna change due to Swine Flu? Is that what we've come to? Living in fear from falling planes and bearded men in turbans? Fear of people hiding explosives in the Nikes. Fear of a black dude running the country? Fear of fluoridation in the water supply? Fear of someone stealing your kidney and leaving you in a hotel bathtub filled with ice. Fear of the tattooed guy behind you in line at McDonalds. Fear of Cancer, Aids, secondhand smoke and even speaking your opinion without being viewed as a racist! Fear of your footprints dwindling on Xanga. Fuck! I'm sick of all this panic shit! Where are your bolas people? Moving on...

So, a lot has happened since I last updated. I still check on Xanga everyday...and I swear I don't understand how I still have daily footprints from loyal subscribers. I guess I do understand...I still check on Emptyspiral's site ever so often and Tony hasn't written shit in years! So I want to apologize for being a lazy bastard and also for not being too social. Now that we have that out of the way, let me get on with my rigmarole...

Fuck. Though I think we've made some progress in this country in a relatively short time, I feel like we have a long way to go before we can truly see each other as God intended.  Are we really all that different? I suppose it's sometimes hard to look past our appearance, especially when one has a gruff exterior and may not look so kissable. But can't we even try? I'm a patient man. I can take a lot. I can deal with stares and even gawking at times, where in the past a slight look in my direction might get you bitch slapped. But it gets old sometimes. Yesterday for example, I went to the gym after work. I swam a few laps and then decided to go to the steam room before showering. When I opened the door I could hear loud conversations going on and a jovial atmosphere. When I came in there was immediate silence. I sat in the only available spot in the far corner. One by one people started to leave and within a minute...no shit, I was left by myself. Not a single word was uttered other than by me when I first came in and introduced myself with, "Good morning."

I suppose I can pretend that I'm indifferent and that stuff like that doesn't bother me. But the truth is, it does. It hurts me. It hurts because I've done so much to change myself into a person my children can be proud of. I earn an honest living and live a good life. Why isn't that enough?

I've been in prison where cowards hide behind muscles and tattoos. You know what? That doesn't mean a motherfuckin' thing! They're the first ones that got taxed and pimped by people who see through the facade. When my children look at me, they see nothing but the love I have for them. Even when I'm shirtless, they don't stare at me. I'm just daddy. And I love them for it.

People sometimes argue about the existence of a creator, a loving heavenly father, while others scoff at the very idea . There are good arguments on both sides. For me though, having the belief that a person who only sees the hearts of men is looking out for me... is enough for me to take a chance on believing. I guess we shall see who was right soon enough.

It was good talking to you.

Well, the last post got me several new subscriptions and a lot of messages...but I also think it rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. There's always the chance of hurt feelings and resentment when a person like myself chooses to generalize the way I do. But hell, really...who the fuck am I? Why do you care what I think anyway? It's just an opinion. An opinion formed by life experiences and situations I was placed in. You might feel the same if you endured it. Maybe. It's easy to frown upon my opinion  from a distance. Easy to scoff, laugh, or gauge what I say based on your personal moral ideology...and that's okay. Go for it. All I'm saying is that perhaps it's wise to reserve judgement and try to see things from another's perspective. Maybe you don't know as much as you think. Maybe. Or maybe not. Regardless of what you may or may not think, I have formed my opinion on that particular matter, and it's not likely to change. I have my reasons.

We are funny creatures, don't you think? Very few of us are just one thing...or just one way. We all have different sides to us. Sometimes, we never reveal this to the outside world. Our crazy little idiosyncrasies that make us who we are. I personally think it's hard to label someone as this or that. I believe that we all have greatness and we all have wickedness. If we are truly children of God, then we have the genetic capability of being like God, having the means of attaining greatness...such as a horse bred from a champion blood line has a chance of becoming great himself. Is that heresy? Isn't that what nature itself teaches us? Maybe. At the same time,  we are human, we have weakness. We also have the capability of producing some of the most vile, hateful and sadistic actions, as we can plainly see by watching the evening news. The choices we make slowly mold us into what we eventually become. But that is a choice. I look at my own life in comparison to my brother. We both went through the same experiences, struggles, and circumstances...yet the path he chose was infinitely different than the one I did. So can I really blame anyone but myself for my choices? No.

But sometimes in life, the choices we make are permanent. Some mistakes we make can never be corrected. And let me tell you, some of us carry a heavy burden. Some of us find it difficult to sleep or even look in the mirror. Some of us just pray that our children won't pay the penalty for the sins we committed before they were even born. And yet, being human, there is still the inner turmoil and the spark of rebelion that makes us shake our fist towards the heavens and blame our creator for our life circumstances. It's folly. But that's life. I hear ya, Tupac...I hear ya ==>

"God forgive me 'cause it's wrong, but I plan to die. You need to take me into heaven and understand I was a G. Did the best that I could, raised in insanity. Or send me to hell, 'cause I ain't beggin' for my life, ain't nothing worse than this cursed ass, hopeless life!"

So in closing, all I'm really saying is that perhaps you'll never know unless you've been there. Perhaps.

~Miguel

This post may offend you...be warned! This is your chance to click the return or back button and go read something warm and fuzzy. Still here? Okay, then....remember I warned you!

So I got pulled over the other day. First time in many, many years. First, let me be really clear, I ALWAYS obey ALL traffic laws. I ALWAYS have everything in order, license, registration, insurance...everything. The reason I don't speed or drive reckless, or even ignore stop signs at the dead of night on deserted back roads (with nobody around to see me) is for one reason...and ONE reason only...I don't ever want to get pulled over. The reason for this may surprise you, but I swear to Jesus it's true....I HATE COPS!!!!!!!!!!! Now I know that there's a lot of people who say that, but they simply mean that they dislike being bothered, hassled or intruded upon by the police. When I say it, I mean exactly that...HATE. Hate is a strong word, I realize that. But that's exactly what I mean. Like- if I happened to see a policeman lying on the street, barely clinging on to life, in desperate need of help, I'd just as soon piss on him then to give him a hand. You know? That kind of hate. Now, I know that some may find this extremely sick or twisted..and may never view me the same, but I won't lie to you...this is how I truly feel. Right or wrong, I can't help it.

So anyway, I was waiting to make a left hand turn the other night and a cop passed me. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw that he did a U-turn and was speeding towards me. For a second, I thought to hit the gas...but quickly realized that I hadn't done anything. So I made my turn and pulled over. I turned the engine off, turned on the inside light, cracked the window, and placed my hands on the steering wheel (in plain sight) so that the uniformed swine didn't feel the need to come up to the window with weapon in hand. He already had the lights on as he stopped behind me...like I knew he would. He came up to the car and introduced himself with, "Do you know why I pulled you over?"

"You didn't pull me over, I stopped and parked on my own." (said in a calm voice while looking straight ahead)

"Yeah, okay...but do you know why I'm pulling you over?"

"Look, man...I'm not playing this game with you. If you have something to tell me, just get on with it."

"Licence, registration and proof of insurance."

"My registration and insurance papers are in this visor above me but my license is in my wallet and that's in my left hand front pocket, I'm reaching for that now."

"You seem to have a lot of experience in this, have you been pulled over a lot."

Silence.

"Do you have a criminal record, or are you on probation?"

Silence. I handed him everything he asked for...still not turning my head in the slightest.

"I'll be back."

Twenty minutes passed. During this time, I thought about all of the cops I've dealt with in my lifetime. I was gripping that steering wheel so tight that I'm surprised I didn't damage it. I was shaking in anger and trying to suppress the feelings I had. I wanted to wait until he came back to my car and then take his life.  The more time passed, the more I wanted to turn my thoughts into action. I actually prayed and begged God to take those feelings out of my heart. Just then...

"Okay, Mr. Xcholo (he actually called me by my last name), it seems everything is in order. The reason I pulled you over was because your front right headlight is out. This is a fix-it ticket. Wait four days but no more than fifteen and take it to ***** st. Show an officer that you got this fixed and that's all you'll need to do. Have a good night."

And that was it. The funny thing is, he'll never know anything about that night. He will place it in his forgotten memories folder, along with the thousands of other uneventful traffic stops he's no doubt had. Me on the other hand, I have it placed in my lucky bastard file...or perhaps the God is great file.

That's all. I had to vent.