In my last post I made fun of how some people view the world. I may have been joking around but there was some truth in it. Really though, life comes at you pretty quick. Sometimes, when we think everything is going our way...then  life throws us a curveball and we find ourselves in situations where we wonder if we can even endure it.

One thing is sure though..friends are really important in these situations. They can help us get through it. That is the one thing that I am truly grateful for...the friends that I have who stand by my side, regardless of what life throws my way.

-Miguel

Every 1.3 minutes a woman is raped. Every 17 seconds, someone is a victim of violent crime. Knowledge destroys myths and begins preparation.

So it all started when I ran across this simple advertisement (above) I saw in a magazine while waiting for my haircut. I highlighted the sentence that caught my attention. I found it in direct contrast with what they are advertising. Here's why ===>

In all of these self defense classes, there is a pleasant and almost jovial atmosphere. Learning martial arts is fun-fun after all! The instructors make good money by filling your head with bullshit and make you feel confident...almost to the point where you feel invincible. They even make sure that before you graduate you are put in a "real life" encounter and you are graded ===>

Your classmates cheer your ass-kicking abilities, as you destroy the padded man with your newly acquired skills. You continue teaching this would be attacker a lesson by smashing his balls into oblivion! Where you are done, he is a pitiful clump of flesh (padded flesh) laying on the ground, wishing to God that he hadn't ever been foolish enough to attack your much prepared ass!

And you have the confidence of Bruce Lee as you walk around in your everyday life. You know that you have the skills to help you in any encounter. As is evident by the many advertisements.

Here ar some more in case you think that I'm exaggerating ===>

Just look at the confidence in their faces and calmness they display (an almost bored look...as if these situations were more of a nuisance than anything else) as they go through these life threatening situations. "Let me hurry up and kick your ass, I still have to go home and make dinner." I know what you are thinking: "But Miguel, it is only because these are well prepared adults who do have these abilities from years and years of preparation." I know, you really aren't thinking that...but it does take me to my next point (I laughed my ass off on this next situation)===>

Look at that! Even the cobra-clutching, vice grip, fists of iron, from the Bagged Ninja Assassin are no match for Grandma! She has honed her skills to the level of grand master. And no would-be pervert will grab her funbags without serious repercussions! Why she doesn't bother to turn around to look at her attacker. Grandma just kicks his ass...no sweat, and continues along the path of righteousness! You think thats cool? You haven't seen anything yet! ===>

Just look at Miniscule Mary with her cocked fist... ready to continue the beat down after smashing this man's (who outweighs her by at least 200 lbs) balls into a fleshy powder-like substance! Shit! I'm amazed! Where do I sign up?

I have to go to work now...so for now let me just hear what you have to say about all of this. Thoughts?

More later....

************************UPDATE-TUESDAY EVENING*********************************

You no doubt know how much I hate Van Damme (sorry Spiral but I do!) so it's with great pleasure that I relate the following story. It happened some years ago at a high end strip club in New York called Scores. If you watch or listen to Howard Stern you've no doubt heard of Scores. Anyway, Van Damme was there. A man named Chuck Zito came over to talk with him at his table. Chuck Zito is a bodyguard to the stars. He was born and raised the Bronx, New York. He was a street kid, a dropout. He fought a lot and ended up being the President of the Hells Angels (New York Nomads Chapter) when he was older. Here is the story:

We ran into each other one night at Scores, an upscale New York strip club where I like to hang out. I was sitting there, eating my steak, minding my own business, when Jean-Claude walked in with Mickey Rourke and a few of his buddies. I figured, Hey life's too short; why hold grudges? So I went over to Jean-Claude, pulled up a chair, and said hello. Right away he copped an attitude.

"Hey . . . Chuck Zi-to," he said, barely making eye contact. Now, I know my last name so it as pretty obvious that he was trying to be an asshole. But I decided to stay away from him. I didn't want or need any trouble. A little while later, though, I was approached by a guy named Frankie, one of the clubs bouncers, who had seen me talking with Jean-Claude. "Hey, Chuck," he said. "Why are you wasting any time with that prick?" [Zito] "What do you mean?" [Frankie] "I just heard him talking about you in the bathroom." [Zito] "what did he say?" [Frankie] "I asked him for an autograph and he told him we had a mutual friend--Chuck Zito. And he started laughing, saying you had no heart, shit like that."

I knew the bouncer and trusted him. There was no way he was lying. So I pulled my chair next to Jean-Claude, looked at the girl wriggling in his lap and said, "Sweetheart, do me a favor. Take your shoes for a walk." She got up and left, leaving me and Jean-Claude sitting just inches apart, staring at each other. We were surrounded by other people, but the music was loud, the place was jumping, and I'm not sure anyone realized we were on the edge of a brawl. "Jean-Claude, were you just talking about me in the bathroom?" He didn't respond at first. Then he slowly removed his glasses, tucked them into his breast pocket, and leaned even closer; and I thought, why the hell is he taking his glasses off? Unless he wants to fight.

[VD] "Yeah, So what?" [Zito] "You tell Frankie that I had no heart?" [VD] "Uh-huh." I didn't want to disrespect the people who owned the club, and I didn't want to disrespect Mickey, who came in with Jean-Claude. [Mickey was a former Zito bodyguarding client] But I couldn't let this go. In all honesty, I have to say that I was amazed Jean-Claude was being such a jerk. So I gave him one more chance to explain his actions. "Why would you say that?" I asked. He lowered his head. "Because you're full of shit." Shocked, I reached out and grabbed him by the arm. The music was blaring and I thought I'd misheard him. "Excuse me, Jean-Claude. Did you say I'm full of shit?" [VD] "No . . . I said you're fucking full of shit!"

And with that I hit him--twice. A straight right and a left hook. Bam-bam!  Jean-Claude's chair flipped over backward, and he landed in the lap of my friend Kevin Lubic. As Jean-Claude tried to scramble to his feet, I started screaming at him. "You fuckin' scumbag! I got no heart? You got no heart! This ain't the movies asshole; this is the street and I own the fucking street!" I started hitting him with everything I had. Jean-Claude barely even tried to fight back. He just tried to shield himself. When he covered his head I hit him in the body. When he covered his body I hit him in the face. It went on like that for about thirty seconds, until the bouncers jumped in, Mickey jumped in, and all my buddies jumped in and pulled me off off Jean-Claude. He was tossed out of the club and I left on my own --quickly--before the police arrived. I went straight to the hospital, because even though he hadn't landed a punch, I'd managed to hurt myself. I could my hand throbbing. Sure enough, X rays showed a broken bone."

That's just my point. Even a guy who was raised in the Martial Arts like Van Damme, can get his ass kicked. And some people take a two hour self defense course and think they can handle difficult and dangerous situations. Wake up people...that's just not what life is all about. It's not that easy.

I think it's funny sometimes that we think that we are so superior to other third world nations. We look at tribes in the Amazon rain forest for example, and we chuckle at the thought if putting pieces of wood through our lips etc. We feel so superior because we have electricity and running water. We have cars, Ipod's and cable television. We have MTV and cellular phones. We have SUV's and Walmart.

But are we really that superior? It isn't until we lose everything we own, or find ourselves down and out that we realize what is important in life. 

Think about how life would be in one of these tribes. Men hunt together to provide food. Women share the work. There is no money or anything to covet. Nobody is richer or poorer than anyone else. Television doesn't raise their kids. Kids grow up without feeling inferior because they don't own the newest pair of Nikes. In reality they are far superior than any of us. They hold family sacred. They understand the concept of equality and community.

I don't think it would be so bad. Do you?

Our Mistress of the High Seas has challenged everyone in the blogring to write about our proudest moment. Here is the official challenge:

Post a story of the moment that you've felt the proudest in your life...but the catch is that you are not allowed to say the birth, graduation, first word, etc. of your child(ren). Nothing about your kids (if you have them). It must be something personal - something where you personally did something that you were proud of.

 + 

My father, though a hard worker, had a terrible mean streak about him. When he was sober he was good natured and friendly. However, he was an alcoholic for many years. That's putting it nicely. He was a mean, drunk son of a bitch, when he had the liquid courage flowing through his veins, which unfortunately for us, was quite often. He would come home in a bad mood, looking to take out his anger on somebody. It was usually my mother, but on occasion, we got beat as well. When he came into the house I would run to him and give him a hug...but it was only to smell him. If he had alcohol on his breath, I knew that I had to go hide, or stay away from him. I also knew it meant that he would be punching on my mother.

  =

It made living at home a constant rollercoaster of emotions. I never knew what to expect. I even had nightmares of watching my father hit my mother, as if seeing it in real life wasn't bad enough. But what made it worse was the fact that my father wouldn't just spank me...I wish that he had. He preferred something else ===>

This was the weapon of choice. It leaves fish shaped welts that become an actual cut. It really hurts. Seriously, in retrospect, I don't know what hurt me more, the cord or watching my mother weep in the corner. 

This continued through most of my younger years. The beatings got worse, and my father even began to hit me like if he was in  a streetfight. He saw me getting bigger and stronger and he in turn got tougher and tougher.

When I was 13 years old the beatings stopped altogether. It was shortly after I had joined a gang. I felt like a man. I had my pride. I promised myself that I would never give my father the satisfaction of seeing one more tear from me, or to hear me scream. He beat me harder than he had ever done in the past when I stood up to him and he saw that I made no sound. He whipped and punched me like a crazed lunatic, but I never made a sound. It hurt beyond description but I kept my promise. I endured it without so much as a whimper. He stood there looking at me, sweating profusely and out of breath. I just held his gaze. He dropped the cord and left.

I never felt prouder in my life, before or since then.

-Miguel 

****Eccentrique wrote in my comments: "It's interesting to me that you never hit your dad back."

I think it was a good comment. I'd like to answer that for everyone. Back in my day (and perhaps things are different these days) it was downright inconceivable to even think about hitting your parents back! In our culture there is a deep respect for parents, it's instilled in us from a very young age. Even talking back to your parents was not tolerated by anyone. I was no different. Though I thought about doing it often, I never once disrespected my father by talking back or fighting back. I just endured everything that came my way.

I got tagged by Beth. Here it goes:

1. Post a picture that's worth a thousand words.

2. Write a limerick about a Xangan that you admire. Include reasons why  you admire that Xangan in the limerick.

There is a young asshole named Dan. Who talks shit, whenever he can. For all that he's said, he still isn't dead...but still humpin' young ladies in bed.      (okay, that's not really why I admire him but it was funny right?)

3. Do you have a secret blog? If so, why? If not, why not?

No. I don't see the point. Plus, I can barely keep up with this one, let alone another.

4. Write out 3 wishes for other people (Xangans?) and say why you wish those things.

Halomutiny- Strength to endure this trying time with her sick husband.

ChiChiChihuahua- Success with her daycare for Kaleb.

Bittersunday- Smooth transition into her new school and a successful semester.

5. If you had to make something with a grapefruit and two rubber bands, what would it be?

I would make a slingshot by putting the two rubber bands between my thumb and index finger and use the peels from the grapefruit as ammunition!

6. Did you ever practice french kissing, and if so on what or how?

I practiced on a young lady named Roxanne. It was in the laundry room of the apartment complex. Eventually I got it right.

7. What is the most disgusting thing you've ever eaten?

Thing- A lizard (raw)   Tasting- green park grass

8. What is the most feminine (if you're a man) or masculine (if you're a woman) thing about you?

My lips.

9. If you have pets, what are their names and what inspired you to name them that?

4 dogs. Precious, Gollum, Porky, and Snoopy. The first two because of that book. Porky because of her weight and appetite. Snoopy because he has always been a nosey little bastard.

10. Write a three line story about a time you were caught doing something wrong.

When I was 17 I got caught stealing a car but managed to elude the police. They sent their dog after me. He is now in doggie heaven.

11. Using roughly 50 words say nothing.

She was shaking her mermaid rump at the Gorillas until Napoleon realized that this tactic would not work. What he thought were mermaids were actually politicians in g strings swinging their hips at Elvis. The gorillas were in fact decaying, putrid corpses that wanted to marry their cousins! Believe that?

12. Tell us about the worst job you ever had.

Dealing drugs in Pico Union. It sucked. Enough said.

13. Create a new breed of human. What does it look like? What does it do? How does it procreate?

It looks exactly like Rodney Dangerfield, except it has a tail that gets erect when he lies. He tells jokes all day long. It procreates every time someone laughs at his jokes.

14. What do you think the biggest threat to humanity is right now?

Me.

15. Tell us about what your dream job would be.

I would get paid a lot of money by writing on Xanga!

16. Who is the last person you wanted to kiss?

A lady in the parking lot at work.

17. How do you eat an oreo?

This might sound really weird but, I actually take one out of the bag using my fingers and raise it towards my mouth. I then open my mouth and take a bite. I then begin to chew it and then swallow it after a while. I repeat the steps until the oreo is gone. Weird, I know.

18. What would you say is your defining characteristic?

The way I shake my money maker on the dance floor?

19. What is your cause?

To be the best father in human history.

20. Link one site that you have found that is useful or makes you laugh.

                                   www.xanga.com/CynaraJane

I'm all for equal rights. If you want to pay for a movie...go for it. Ladies, you want to be a fireman, more power to you. Men, you want to be a flight attendant? You have my blessing. But there are in fact limits to what is acceptable and what is not. There is a line that should never be crossed for any reason. Case and point ===>

Some things are just not right. Enough said.

What do you think? Are there certain things that should just not be allowed?

I wish that people just said what they mean. I hate all the pretense, and the lies. Plus, it's such a headache to dig through all the bullshit to find the truth. Wouldn't it be so much easier if we didn't have to become Sherlock Holmes in order to figure out what was really being said? I came up with a few things that people (both men and women) say that really mean something else. Here it goes...

1. (when hooking a male friend up on a blind date-Women) "She's such a nice girl...you'll love her personality."

Translation: "She's not the prettiest woman in the world, but she's lonely and I think it would be good for her to go out on a date."

2.  (When asked about cheating-Men) "I'd never ever cheat on my wife, I've been married too long."

Translation: "I know damn well that if I did, she'd cut it off while I slept. So, though I want to, I don't dare to."

3. (When asking to borrow their husband/boyfriend's cell phone-Women) "Can I please borrow your phone for a second, I seem to have misplaced mine?"

Translation: "Can I please look through your phone for numbers of women and see who you've been calling?"

4. (Down on one knee-Men) "Will you make my life complete and do me the honor of marrying me?"

Translation: "This cooking, cleaning and taking care of myself sucks ass...I guess I can put up with you so I don't have to do these things again. Will you do these things for me from now on?"

5. (When shedding a tear as she was just asked the question above-Women) "Yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

Translation: "Gotcha' Bitch!!!"

Can you think of any that we say but mean something else? What?

***********UPDATE********************************************

Oh_mother_may_I   Contributed these pearls of wisdom:

>Words Women Use:
>1.) FINE: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are
>right and you need to shut up.
>2.) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour.
>Five Minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more
>minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.
>3.) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something,
>and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing
>usually end in fine.
>4.) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!
>5.) Loud Sigh: This is not actually a word, but is a non-verbal
>statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you
>are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and
>arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to #3 for the meaning of
>nothing.)
>6.) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women
>can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard
>before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.
>7.) Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or Faint. Just
>say you're welcome.
>8.) Whatever: Is a women's way of saying F@!K YOU!
>9.) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement,
>meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several
>times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man
>asking "what's wrong", for the woman's response refer to # 3.
>Send this to the men you know, to warn them about arguments they can
>avoid if they remember the terminology. Send this to all the women you
>know to give them a good laugh, cause they know its true.

****************MONDAY MORNING UPDATE***********************

So my homegirl Paige said that the post sounded slightly anti-women. I don't want you guys thinking this is the case. So in order to remedy the situation, I thought I'd include a few other scenarios about men. ====>

6. (when at the door at his date's house after a night out-men) "Can I come in? All I want to do is talk."

Translation: "Can I come in and do some poking?"

7. (when things aren't looking good for fornication-men) "Come on baby, you know I love you."

Translation: "I'm really horny and I'll say anything at this point to get laid."

8. (when asked their wife/girlfriend if they have a porn collection-men)"Of course not!"

Translation: "You'll never find it."

So I received the bill from the hospital today. As you know both my son and my daughter were in the hospital recently. My boy stayed three days and my daughter six. The bill is for slightly over 13,000 dollars! Now, I ask myself...WTF? I'm tring to do the math.

One room, nine days total into 13,000.00 = 1,444.44 a day

My daughter had "viral pneumonia" which means that antibiotics did her no good. She couldn't eat any solid food so they brought her water and juices. Now they did have her hooked up to IV's and did give her Oxygen treatments...but 13,000??? Don't get me wrong, my kids are worth that and more to me. It just doesn't seem right to pay that much. ==>

This old cholo might not be the sharpest blade in the knife drawer, but I can put two and two together. Now I know why they wear masks! Bastards!

Thoughts?

****UPDATE***

I was recently tagged by Far_skies. Here are my 6 weird things:

1. I always have to sit in the very last row in a theatre. If I'm at a restaurant, I have to pick a seat where I can see the whole room and nobody is behind me.

2. I sometimes talk to myself out loud when I'm alone.

3. I hate eating anything messy, or anything that makes me get my fingers and hands dirty. Crab is the only exception. Ribs, watermelon (when it's not cut into little pieces), mangos and anything that makes a mess.

4. I have to sleep on my back and have a gun within reach...or I can't fall asleep.

5. I don't get nervous in the least when speaking in public...no matter what size audience I have or what I'm discussing.

6. I get up several times a night to make sure that my kids are okay. I always check to see that they are breathing.

***** I got tagged again by Chi Chi...so here are my next six weird things:

7. I haven't eaten a meal at home at my kitchen table in more than 6 years. (excluding Thanksgiving with family)

8. I think that me watching the Lakers play somehow affects their performance.

9. I've been stabbed on 7 occasions with 11 total knife entries.

10. I have a paranoid feeling that I'm going to die in the shower. In fact, I even shampoo with my eyes open, even if it means getting soap in my eyes. And yes, I keep a gun in there on the top shelf of a shampoo rack.

11. I don't find it gross when my daughter spits out pre chewed food on her hand and gives it to me...or when she feeds it to me....but I won't even share a sip of soda from the same can with my S.O. or anyone else for that matter.

12. I don't like hot food. Warm is okay.

I forget the year, but it isn't important. What is important is how a jacket like this might have changed the course of my life. Don't believe me? Well then, read on and then you tell me.

"Wetback" "Beaner" "Spic"...if I didn't get called these things at least ten times a day, it was only because it was weekend, holiday or because I didn't go to school that day. At first I didn't even know what they were saying to me (English is my second language). "¿Que me estaran diciendo?" *I wonder what they are saying to me?*

It didn't take long however to realize that the things being said weren't good. Instead, they were a cowardly and pathetic way of killing someone...a little at a time.

The teachers didn't care. Not once do I recall anyone being scolded much less punished for their cruelty. In fact, I even recall silly giggles and smirks of amusement from some of them! Maybe they didn't get paid enough to care. Maybe they chose not to get involved because they saw nothing wrong. Maybe the seeds of racism had bloomed into full grown fruit. Whatever the case, it happened. I can relate to Pac: "My only friend is my misery."

It only got worse. I learned English quickly, but the teasing at my pronunciation and grammar never stopped. I also became an easy target for the bigger kids. I wasn't very big as a child. I'd get beat up and my school supplies would get jacked or end up broken.

But the worst thing of all was that I had a nice (at the time) indian jacket with fringes all over it. I don't recall how, or when I got that...but it was really special to me. Most of my clothes were either too big or too small. They were usually secondhand clothes. This jacket wasn't. There was a kid who insisted on beating me up whenever he got a chance and he ripped those straps off whenever he walked past me. When I got home, my mother would give me a disappointed look and lecture me on taking better care of my clothes. I never told her what I was being subjected to at school.

One day my mother decided to count the few straps that were left on my jacket and told me that if I came home with less straps that she would beat me and tell my father. I was petrified. I knew that I could never make it through the day without running into that kid. I was right.

When he came over to give me my daily ass kicking/destruction of property, I cried and begged him not to rip off any more straps. I guess that compassion wasn't one of his strongpoints because after that he threw me down to the ground and ripped every single strap that was left on the jacket. He then spit on me and walked away...leaving me there to wallow in my misery.

It was then that it happened. As I sat on the ground crying, I began to have extremely violent thoughts. I wanted to hurt that kid. No. I wanted him dead. Is it normal for a child to have these thoughts? I don't know. All I know is that I did. I distinctly remember using muscles in my face that I didn't know I had. I felt an anger that I can't put into words.

When I returned to class I felt hot...almost burning up! I went to a bookshelf that held many things, among them some wooden building blocks for kids. I picked one of them up and ran up behind the kid that had done that to me and  WHAM!!! In a few seconds, his blonde hair turned red as he screamed in pain. I was escorted to the principle's office. I mostly observed lips moving and angry frowns...but I didn't care. I felt better than I've ever felt in my life! Shortly after that, the name calling and teasing ceased altogether.

Right or wrong? What do you think? What would you have done?

I think that we all have something that we can do better than everybody else. Something that we may have to work at, but eventually we develop it and it becomes second nature to us. I've always admired people who found theirs. Talents, gifts or abilities..we call them many things. I've spent most of my life looking for mine. I'll let you know when I find it. Right now it seems that my greatest talent is sleeping earlier than anybody I know. Yeah, yeah, I'm getting old. But who knows, maybe it will come to me in a dream while I sleep? Or maybe my talent is eating an entire box of Count Chocula cereal in one sitting while watching old Tex Avery cartoons and scratching myself.

Do you have a talent, ability or gift? What is it?