Does it feel like an infection?

I was just asked if me clearing my throat felt like an infection? I thought to myself, so how does an infection feel?? Apparently this person recognizes infection symptoms. I've been sitting in front of my AC and then stepping outdoors into the 90 degree heat. Apparently, many of us do this in the summer when the heat can get unbearable. It feels nice to have my car AC blast my face. Days later from doing this, I feel my voice getting hoarse. I have to clear my throat often. It's nothing serious and I'm don't have a fever nor a sore throat. I told this person I'm clearing my throat because it feels like a head cold. After I said that she continues to ask if it's feels like an infection to which I respond and say, "how does an infection feel". I've only stated that my throat needs to be cleared and it feels like a head cold and this person is obsessed with infections. I don't know what else to say the next time she asks the same stupid question and this person is always on a healthy daily dose of antibiotics. So I think she must be very familiar with infections.. I think I should avoid her and put my AC on low.

Live to tell

that today america elected it's first black president.

we've come a long way...

Murder to Lawn Signs

So I've been wanting to get a paintball gun and red paint balls and go around taking down McCain a.k.a. Jabba the hut and debutante Palin lawn signs. Of all places, not North Carolina, not some red state but here.. in Los Angeles, CA I have to cringe every time I walk home. To see the signs on my block, in my neighborhood, my city, my state is disgusting. These folks must be deaf, dumb and blind to want the country to be run by Jabba and the teen queen. Are you serious? You're my neighbor, the Chicano who fought to have the ability to attend school, to have Chicano studies, to be able to buy a home and live the so called American dream.. now you want to put your pesky little lawn sign to irritate the crap out of me. How dare you? No, I won't lend you any sugar anymore and yes I will let my dog take a giant crap on your lawn (hopefully my dog can aim his piss to hit the sign.. training will start today).

GUIDE TO POPPING CHERRIES and not falling in love

Today I heard a story of a 35 yr old virgin woman who just got her cherry popped by a 28 yr old boy. Like predicted she is in love now.

In love with... the chemical reactions in her brain not this man. Where is the GUIDE TO POPPING CHERRIES and not falling in love? Why do women associate love with the first sexual encounter. Why aren't we given a book on how to get it over with and move on? The little stain of blood, the anticipation, the fear and goosebumps right before the first time are all small players in making you "THINK" you're in love. You're not..especially if you're a 35 year old woman whose vagina has been hungry for so long. Call me a bit jaded but seriously sex is important but it's not love (most of the time). Women associate most sexual acts with attachment where men can just have no attachment and perceive it as just getting their needs taken care of. I'm not trying to start a "slut" aka "liberated women" (according to some men) revolution, I'm just saying that women need to draw the line between getting their needs taken care of and actually thinking they're in love.

You need to have sex BUT you got to want to fall in love.

I would write more but this liberated woman has to start on my first chapter of GUIDE TO POPPING CHERRIES (and not falling in love).

Nubiti: The “Golden Lady” of Egypt

Slowly, and ungracefully she walked down the sidewalk. Her large hips swayed from left to right making her saddlebags unavoidable in her tight, black polyester pants as she took lumbering steps in her golden flats that shimmered in the early morning sunlight. A glimmer of yellow flickered from the flecks of metallic yarn embedded in her oh-so-tight black sweater with the 1980s geometric weave on the front. Only her enormous gilded purse could distract one as the sun does when it breaks through the landscape each morning in its majestic glory, but such was not the case with the hideous handbag. Her nest of raven hair barely moved with each clumsy, golden step but it fell in a not-so-well thought-out ‘do only a (dis)honorable gypsy could flaunt with the indescribable flair Nubiti did. A pretty face may have saved her, but alas, that too was not the case. Very olive-toned she appeared and framed by a mane the color of midnight and thick eyebrows that effectively mimicked the plumpest of caterpillars only enhanced this “Golden Lady’s” antithesis to fashion. But her crowning achievement was not her aquiline nose that protruded in curvatures only Picasso would find appealing, no! Nubiti’s pride rested in her carefully kohled eyes. Eyes encapsulated by the thickest of lines only an entire bottle of liquid eyeliner could provide. Eyes that evoked the dead and mummified queens of Egypt with the same effect one feels after seeing a gilded sarcophagus opened to reveal the dried remains of long-forgotten royals. Royalty she was not, but sadly a thwarted misrepresentation of what once was and could never be again. Alone this golden diva continued down the sidewalk, oblivious of the spectacle she provided to the horrified onlookers who could only imagine what her intentions were and her plans could be.

too experienced for someone to rock n roll

Exes, lovers and haters. How do they evolve from lover to hater after sometime. At one point they were your best friend, lover, fan and family friend. Moments would pass where you wouldn't dare imagine your life without them. Now years, months, weeks later.. you can exhale and say THANK GOD! From being essential to non-existent is a strange transition. You grow apart, you evolve from your former self and become a new aware you. A person with the tools to tackle psychos ex-boyfriends and filter out future ones.

Recently my psycho ex found me on Facebook. His pathetic message said he just signed up and decided to look me up first, for some strange reason. Not only did I IGNORE his disgusting plea to be added to my social network, I also BANNED the mother fucker. Who does he think he is? After all these years of trying to dodge his psychotic attempts to get me back into his life. He must be jaded (he is btw) to think I would so gently press ADD to my friend list. He's got something else coming, I got my tools ready, they're called BAN and IGNORE and the old classic DELETE. I'd be dammed to allow these haters to permeate my social network.

TIP OF THE DAY: DO NOT GOOGLE EX's (they really don't give a damn about you)

Ghetto Princess

In a land not so far away, ghetto princess was at the ball having a nice tall pint of Guinness. Unassuming Prince Wilmington approaches her. Tall, drunk and not so handsome leans over and mumbles sweet nothings to her. The waltz continues to play and he attempts to impress her with his threats of eliminating anyone at the ball. "Pick anyone and they shall disappear", he says. The princess looks around the ball. Ghetto princess pauses and stares at him. Prince
Wilmington then drops down on to his knee and pulls out his gat. The Prince announces to everyone at the ball that he shall prove his loyalty by 'putting a cap' in any one's ass.

He rises to his feet and asks the princess for her hand. He tells her, "now let's share a 40 oz". Ghetto princess slightly amused, chuckles and raises her pint of Guinness and asks security to escort the crazy SOB out of the ball.

Cheers!