Angry People of Color, Inc.

Finally...

2011-01-25T18:28:00.000-08:00

I decided I'm going to blog again. I know you have been holding your breath. All two of you. Well here I am. I'm sure it makes you want to....

Yes, I am sending you links instead of watching the State of the Union. I can't deal. I'm only going to turn it back on if the Democrats start shanking Republicans. I really wish Diabla from Beyond Scared Straight had been invited to the festivities because she would totally would cut a Republican bitch.

Beyond Scared Straight is one of the best pieces of television I have seen in ages. When these little mocosas and mocosos walk into Chowchilla, Corcoran, or Folsom Prison all bad like they are going to throw down with inmates, the best part is watching them potty in their chones. In a world where kids today are the most entitled little assholes I know, it's good to know that there are peeps out there keeping it real.

Hypocracy Thy name is Gosselin

2009-08-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

Today Jon Gosselin says he wants a 9 to 5 job and to be left alone to cry in his Ed Hardy handkerchiefs. Well you know what Jon Gosselin, you should have thought about that when you let your wife convince you to have eight kids. You couldn't keep it from squirting from your pants to the petri dish. I ain't got no love fo'yo ass.

But not to be entirely hypocritical here, I can't stand Kate either. I mean the woman got two healthy, if not demonic twins, Mady and Cara. But noooooo, she wanted more. So she bitched and whined and soon she was on "six months of bed rest" (you asked for it) in order to deliver her liter of six little puppies.

The Gosselins put up a good front for a while. I mean they were getting everything for free right? Would you be complaining? Yeah, me neither. If you asked me to do the dog and pony show for a trip to Disneyland I would ask you if you wanted me to be the dog, the pony or both. Hell if you wanted me to fuck them, I probably would. Needless to say, the Gosselins, who were once living on public assistance were now living the life.

The thing that makes me crazy about the Gosselins is this - here is a couple who made the arguably, foolhardy decision to have eight children without the means to support them. Then TLC stepped in and gave them the cash they needed to raise these little monkeys. BUT THEN, they started to get all holier than thou on us! Suddenly, the Gosselins were ORGANIC, they were GREEN, they RECYCLED, they had yard sales for CHARITY. They went to Kmart to by toys for NEEDY CHILDREN WITH CANCER. Kate Gosselin wrote books about what it was to be a good parent, you know, because she is a better mother than anyone out there. Her book was a best seller and women flocked to their local Barnes & Nobel to hear Kate's wisdom. The Gosselins believed they were better than us and we believed it too.

But everything comes with a price. You have cameras in your home. The public becomes interested. And then it all goes to hell. The irony of it all is that now we are all glued to the unraveling. This week Kate talked to people, last week Jon talked to Life & Style. The week before his girlfriend talked to US. Then the other girlfriend talked to OK!. I'm waiting for the kids to give an exclusive to Highlights.

In the end, I'm glad I can't afford organic, recycled toys to give to kids with cancer because then I might have to talk to US Weekly about it too. So Gosselins, we have your number. You're not perfect. We watched you pretend, now we'll watch you deny the truth. I guess that's what makes good tv.

Scared OU

2009-08-19T12:17:00.000-07:00

I've been dog sitting this week and I came to a realization this morning. My preppy white dog isn't used to the Mexican disciplinarian in me.

On an average day Maddie acts out, throws fits when I try and take her on the sand at the beach, goes through the garbage and the other morning she took a big caca in the living room. I'm convinced that this was all just to piss me the fuck off. She's like a child with zero fear of anyone or anything - like little kids whose parents give them a timeout.

But, let me tell you something, don't give timeouts. My mother didn't give timeouts. My welita didn't give timeouts. Time outs are for wimps! I was scared as shit of my mama and her chanclas. I still am. She only recently ridded her house of wire hangers because her children are now up and grown. She said she keeps one on reserve in case we act out. This was a woman with rules and I followed them to a T.

1. When I say now, I mean now.
2. If you ruin my Sunday and I am full of coraje at church, you are going to pay cabronsitos.
3. When I say leave your door open while you clean your room, I mean leave it open or I will kick it in.
4. We don't need a maid, that's why we had children.
5. All tasks are multi-tasks! If you are watching TV, you could be folding clothes or dusting at the same time.
6. God is watching you and waiting to strike you down.
7. When in doubt, Que dira la gente?
8. Life isn't about being happy, it's about who suffers the most and survives to tell the story.
9. Words don't leave welts like chanclas.
10. If you ever bring this up as an adult, I'll deny that it ever happened.

All of this made me come to a reassuring realization this morning. I have the Mean Mexican Mama gene (M3) too. It's like this dog flipped a switch in me. My face gets all squished and concentrated. My eyeballs squint. I stomp around with purpose and minus a few hijo de la chingadas, I'm straight up my moms yo! If I could have made her pair calcetines for 4 hours and mopped the floor on her hands and knees, I would have. If she could wash dishes herself why use the dish washer? Maddie is in my boot camp. She is hella scared of me yo and I like it that way.

I am going to break her the way I will break my children. And you know what? She is going to be all the better for it. Look how firme I turned out. I am finnnnne. I worried that I would buy my kids Cocoa Pebbles, let them play on Saturdays instead of clean, give them timeouts and not spank them. I am relieved to know that I will not wimp out. I will not give in. They will fear me and they will love me for it later.

Game on.

Japon-esa

2009-04-17T10:12:00.000-07:00

The other night in one of my 'bouts of lotion induced tv watching, I noticed that La MTV was actually showing videos for the realz. I mean for realz, for realz. I thought I was hallucinating or something. But sure enough the next day, I realized I had tivoed that shit. Probably cause I was bien emesmerized by this:

I mean this is some hella Danny Zuko, Japones, Chola sniffing AquaNet insanity. It's crazy good and I can't get it out of my head/boy your lovin' is all I think about/I just can't get you out of my head/boy, it's more than I care to think about.

Anywayz, check out those gueritos who sing it Peter Bjorn and John. Bien, Silverlake que no? But the drum and base es bien firme.

I used the intertubes to get my learn on and do an investegacion about the greasers. They are the primos of the zoot suiters after all. Seems as if they are part of a rockabilly movement in Japon. They go to the bien famous Yoyogi Park in Toky-jo to do their folklorico japon-americano on the weekends and the peoples they wachela.

Zip It!

2009-03-06T14:42:00.001-08:00

I have something really important to talk about. Zippers. The pants I’m wearing today have zippers everywhere and I think that I am having a bad reaction to said zippers. See when I touch these zippers, my hands smell like they are straight out of Terminator 2. It’s like I’m getting metal and or mercury poisoning from my esexy eski pantalones. My hands smell like metal, I taste metal. I know how the Pivs feels now. He probably had to leave “Speed the Plow” because he had zippery pants that poisoned his stout little body. I’m thinking that I might have to become Amish. Because seriously, this is not the only clothing item that does this to me. All of my hoodies, all of my jackets, all of my pants’ zippers hate me. They are making me a pariah and I don’t appreciate it one bit you little fuckers.

I know huhhhhhhhhhhhhh

2008-03-14T12:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes in your life you are lucky enough to encounter a fierce ass chola who rocks your world. The plant is changing gente, changing big time righ' now. Why? Because a fucking chicana veterana of alllllll veteranas has invaded the place where they make wonder bread and ginger bread houses for the people of middle america. American Idol. I was pissed when they kicked off Danny Noriega cause he was a fierce little bitch with puro attitude. I loved him for his swaga' I loved him for his swing. But mainly I loved his pimp chola of a moms. Evidence of her power has surfaced from her myspace. Here are some pictures with her own captions. I couldn't have said it more betters myself. I dedicate this song to you....

chongalicious definition
arch my eyebrows high
they always staring at my booty and my panty line
you could see me
you could read me
cause my name is on my earrings
girls got reasons why they hate me
cause they boyfriends wanna date me

i'm chongalicious

y punto.

TEXT:
"I LOVE MY FAMILY VERY MUCH...I GUESS YOU COULD SAY I'M LIKE A MOTHER LION...YOU FUCK WITH MY CUBS AND I'LL KILL YOU AND EAT YOU...IT'S THAT SIMPLE...THOSE THAT KNOW ME, KNOW THAT I COULD BE THERE WORST NIGHTMARE WHEN IT COMES TO MY KIDS...AS I MENTIONED BEFORE...THEY ARE MY WORLD...NEED I SAY MORE..."

1984...MY FIRST BORN @ 2 WEEKS OLD...HE'S 23 NOW...SHIT I'M OLD

~1984~

ME IN 1982...WHEN I WAS A SKINNY BITCH

SAD SAD GIRL...LOL!

JUST FOR THE RECORD...I'M NOT A WHITE GIRL...I'M 100% CHICANA

I'M WATCHING YOU!

GRRR!!!!! THIS LION WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND EAT YOU...LOL!

DON'T FUCK WITH ME BITCH!

SEE HOW CALM I AM AFTER A FEW ANGER MANAGEMENT CLASSES

FEELIN IT...MAIN EVENT IN EL MONTE

source

Election '08

2008-02-04T10:40:00.001-08:00

Okay, so I'm going to be perfectly honest here. I don't know who to vote for tomorrow. I am totally confus-ted. This ultra liberal, woman of color wanted to vote for the southern white gentleman from South Carolina, John Edwards. Until bitch dropped out. I ain't gonna hate though, because his old lady is really sick yo. I mean pobrecita being like "It's okay viejo, I'm going to kick the bucket real soon, so you just keep on running for President." So for Elizabeth Edwards' sake, I'm glad John Edwards can focus on his wife and family.

I guess now, it's Hillary or Barry for me. I watched their debate last week and I thought they were going to make sweet love to one another right there on CNN. It was NOT helpful for those of us who are getting picos in our nalgas from this painful fence that we are sitting on. My mama says she hopes I do the "right thing" and vote for Hil. My political junkie bro is voting for Barry. One is an agent of change, the other wants change we can believe in. I like change. Channnnge clothes, annnnd gooooo. That's one of my favorite jams. They both are different from the monkey in the White House right now. But, I also voted for change in '92 only to get the bitch slap of the century when Bill and Al realized that you can't change the system, you gots to work the system like a high priced hoe. Like "Fancy" in that Reba McEntire song. So who's gonna put on their patten leather boots and strut for me? Hil or Barry?

A joint ticket might be the solution, but I don't know if these two A types would agree to that. I'm sure it would make every liberal in this country cream their pants a little. Or a lot. I also think that if they shared the same orbit, Michelle "Omarosa" Obama and Hillary "Boom Boom" Clinton could have weekly UFC cage matches. But while it would awesome to watch, imagine what it would cost us in health care? On the other hand, Bill and Barry would give really good commentary speeches about it afterward. I don't believe Hil when she says she doesn't play doctor with special interest groups and the fact that she is friends with Antonio Villaregosa, perhaps the worst ambassador of my people since Richard "The Night Stalker" Ramirez, well, it doesn't make me feel great. On the other hand, when Barry gives speeches saying "Yes We Can" I want to scream. My people invented that saying, you stealer!

But the fact that I'm nit picking about these little things can only mean good things in the end I guess. And that is this. Never in my life, having knocked on doors for Jerry Brown, Walter Mondale, Michael freaking Dukakis, or Bill Clinton have I ever felt like we had two really good choices. We do. I just wish I knew which one to pick. So instead, I think I'm gonna do this:

I think I'm going to vote for Roseanne. I know she is bat shit crazy. But I love me some Roseanne and I would not be opposed to her becoming the President because you know she will make calm decisions after 5 nice glasses of merlot. She also has a very delicious platform:

Triple teachers' and policemen's' pay and raise the bar accordingly.

Establish a union of the working poor with the Attorney General as their lawyer.

Replace Organized Religion with strict observance and enforcement of the Golden Rule during my first administration.

Foreign policy statement: "Hey, how's it going? We're your global neighbors. Here's our number if you need something."

Back our currency with yummy baked goods

Abolish the IRS

Birth control in the water supply for the the first two years of my administration.

All sewer and septic tank maintenance performed by convicted corporate criminals.

All medical testing performed on child molesters and animal abusers.

Minimum weight for supermodels: 140 lbs

A ver que pasa. I guess I'll just have see what my heart tells me tomorrow. Maybe I should have some merlot first.

source

Much Better

2008-02-03T18:03:00.000-08:00

Dear Katherine Heigl,

Thanks for listening to me and fixing your teeth. I knew some how that the baby Jesus would get my message to you. I watched Oprah and even I could see the delight on her face when she realized she didn't have to sit so close to your snaggle teeth anymore. I thank you, Oprah thanks you, and I'm sure Dr. Droffman's children thank you for contributing to their college fund. That is all.

Gracias,
a.ro

Just Sayin'

2008-02-01T18:07:00.000-08:00

Tick-Ed

2008-01-30T21:32:00.000-08:00

Every morning when I'm getting ready for work, deep in to the middle of my hair styling process, I inevitably have to pause to change the channel on my TV because I hear IT. The amazon sounding, high pitched wail of that fucking bitch from Wicked.

The voice over tells us that great tickets are FINALLY available, for the #1 musical in Los Angeles history, an extended run, don't miss the magic, see what happened before Dorthy dropped her ass into Oz. WICKED! THE MUSICAL! Then I hear it. I can't find the remote! Fuck fuck fuck! Hurry, I can't hear it! Nononononono. Make it stop. Must change channel. Pronto! "Ahhhhhhhhh-ahhhh-ahhhhhhh!" Nooooooooooooooooooooooo. Worst than knowing that Regis & Kelly are coming on in 2 minutes and I'm fucking late to work again, it's the shrill howl of Elphaba. That green bitch from Wicked.

You know what Ephebia, I know shit sucks because you are green. I know that your roommate Galenda is "Pop-Ular" and you are pissed because she is a selfish LA hoe, who in another incarnation was probably in the slutty sorority at USC. There are muchkins running all over the place. I know your paralyzed little sister gets more game than you and your only friends are flying monkeys. All of these things are super frustrating. But you know what? I am fucking sick and tired of hearing your sorry ass howl every morning when I get ready for work, on my morning drive, on my IM advertisements. Get the fuck over it. No one cares. Go wail in Schenectay you dumb bitch. I'm over you.

27 Dentists

2008-01-21T17:20:00.001-08:00

Dear Katherine Heigl,

Congratulations on the big movie career, really. Props to you. I watched your movie yesterday. It was fun. Thanks for that. Just one question. CAN YOU PLEASE FIX YOUR FUCKING TEETH?! I mean that snaggle tooth. I was scared that if they had shown that movie in IMAX, the tooth was going to come out and stab me in the eye. I like both my eyes, they help me see. I don't want to have to wear a patch, even if it had Swarovski crystals on it in the shape of a skull.

When you are on Gray's, the snaggle tooth and the two middle teeth leaning inward don't bother me so much. I have a 19 inch TV circa 1992. But when I see your snaggle tooth and the two middle teeth leaning inward on the big screen, I get scared. And correct me if I'm wrong, but 27 Dresses is a romcom not a horror movie. I b scrrred o u teef.

This movie might propel you into feature film stardom. But when all I can see are your and James Marsden's teeth fighting for screen time, well it's a little distracting. He's getting a letter too. Kiki Dunst didn't respond to my pie charts and powerpoint presentation I sent to her publicist. I just hope that you will read this and take heed.

Your snaggle tooth and the two middle teeth leaning inward are your friends. I know they have been with you for a while, but you got lots of money now, yo. Sometimes you got to let shit go. Hillary Duff said good-bye to her baby teefs and hello and subsiquent quick bu-bye to her horsey teefs, Miley Cyrus said bye bye gummy smile. They are tween babies, you are a womanz. Go see Dr. Dorfman. Por favor!

kthanks.
a.ro

Resolve: Postivity in ‘08

2008-01-04T16:57:00.000-08:00

I silently resolved to be more positive in ’08. If you know me, you know that is like me willing myself to grow a third eye in the middle of my heed. That is why I made a SILENT resolution.

Experiment Positivity ‘08 lasted 3 days, 7 hours and 10 minutes.

Oh, I made it through the 23 minute prayer at Christmas. Stay positive, it’s the holidays.
I made it through the trip to the new Walmart and all of it’s Chinese made evils.
I made it through the asshole who almost drove my brother off the road on the way home because he had a death wish and I almost ran him off the road in retaliation.
I made it through the flight to New York next to the Gelats from Southgate who decided it would be a great idea to talk and eat pumpkin seeds through the duration of the red eye to New York because they were “Going to see the ball drop in Times Square for New Years and try to get on TV with Ryan Seacrest.”
I made it through the 2 for 1 sale at Shoemania and actually purchased a pair of shoes.
I made it back on the flight from NY without getting SARS from the crazy woman sitting next to me who never covered her mouth when she coughed.
I even made it back to work in a pretty damn fucking good mood yesterday and stayed positive until I had to come back today and wonder why I didn’t save myself the misery of it all and stay home watching the “My Big Fat Fabulous Wedding” marathon on TV.

Postitivity ‘08 is over because I’m currently wasting my fucking life away at work listening to idiots talk about the Iowa Caucus and wanting to shoot myself. I want to shoot myself because people who are dumber than me are circling my orbit espousing about politics, while people smarter than me were wise enough to realize they would be assholes if they came to work and sat here playing Scrabulous on Facebook for 6 hours and kicking themselves for not bringing an ipod to drown out the din of ignorance that permeates my workspace like white noise. Why can’t we stop pretending that you people are informed and talk about Britney? Why can’t we talk about Project Runway? Why can’t I leave and go see the 5pm screening of National Treasure?!?!

I want to go home. That’s the only thing I am fucking positive about today.

Snack of Death: A Piggy's Vengence

2007-09-27T22:57:00.000-07:00

I had a very bad incident with chicharrones this past weekend. Did I choke on one you ask? No. Me enchile? No.

I was biting into a delicious hot pica chicharone on Friday as I was preparing to watch High School Musical 2 and as I bit into it, the little chicharrone flake flew up into the air as they are prone to do and landed in my eyeball! OMG, the pain, the pain. It's like when you rub your eye after eating jalapeños. Worst of all, it was a flake and the pica together that were burning and itching my eye at the same time.

I ran around screaming and wondered to myself why I didn't have an emergency eye wash station in my house. I believe that all gelats should have them considering the ratio of chile to eye incidents that we are prone too.

I recovered and I didn't have to wear an eye patch, though I'm sure I could have rocked it if need be. I'm just warning you all that if you ever eat chicharrones do it with safety goggles or with your eyes closed. Now I'm never going to touch a maranito pan dulce or I'll be screwed!

I'm Back Bitches!

2007-09-27T22:53:00.000-07:00

After a long spring/summer/fall (dios mio) hiatus, I'm back to the blog. I hate it when the crappy side of life takes over and you just become a sloth on the couch trying to keep up with the ever shrinking space on your tivo. No more. More posts, more love, more todo. Tu sabes.

2007-04-05T14:58:00.000-07:00

From the archives, in honor of me being able to eat meat in three days, a little diddy about Easter:

It's holiday season again. And while one would usually wait until Thanksgiving or Christmas time to write a scathing something about the hurt that is family, I find that Easter says it best for me. My pain began with a frantic call from my mother.

Let me preface this by saying that as a Latina, more specifically a Mexican-American (or Chicana or Xicana or Revolucionaria or whatever the kids are calling it these days) I was born with a little black cloud of guilt over my head and it has followed me around my whole life. It's a mix of the ethnic, a mix of the cultural, a mix of the women in my life with a dash of Catholicism thrown in for good measure. Nia Vardalos thought she gave you a lesson in ethnic loving -- that girl ain't got nothin' on this shit.

The Gonzalez Family Reunion: where my family supposedly celebrates the resurrection of Christ. But if you were to poll them, you would hear their relief to return to things like soda, alcohol and American Idol after four long weeks of Lent. Four weeks can mean a lot of pent up anger and frustration and evil scenarios that make me think that my family is one step away from organized crime. Evil scenarios like the Great Church Hall Theft of 2003.

I'm from a small town in Central California. If we want entertainment, we go see Friday night high school football. If we want culture, we travel north to Fresno for the national touring company of Michael Flatley's The Lord of the Dance. This year we wanted drama, so we went to church.

In keeping with tradition, we rent the outside of our church hall on an annual basis. Steaks and tripas are barbecued (we get the meat free from our connections at the local grocery store). Kids hunt for Easter eggs (filled with money and confetti rather than candy). A horseshoe tournament is played (with a sweet pool). Alcohol flows freely (from my cousins who work for The Budweiser Corporation. Thank you, Budweiser.) All this to celebrate the resurrection of Christ and in the shadow of the giant 25 foot tall Virgin Mary statue that sits outside Sta. Maria de Guadalupe's Church Hall.

But this year something went terribly wrong. The phone rang one evening. It was my mother. The scandal in her voice was thick and quick. "Mija, we've lost the hall." She just said it. That was it. We had lost the hall. Someone had very unceremoniously stolen it out from under us and reserved it for themselves. "Don't people respect the fact that we have it every year?" she spat. "Who's family is as big as ours?" And that was it. The mortal truth. No family in town came close to our 200 plus members. But now that was all over. The church hall was a symbol of our power and presence in this little corner of the world. We had been duped. Someone had threatened the one thing that made us, family pride.

Deeper investigation from my aunt, the local gossip with connections because she taught catechism, led la familia to more clues. Seems that Tencha, one of the women who worked in the parish offices, was the key. Word was that Tencha had used her power on the inside to get the Church Hall for her family. "Her family isn't even as big as ours!" my grandma barked scandalously.

Suspicions were confirmed when, at mass on Sunday morning, Tencha gave us all mal ojo from where she sat perched on the church choir. "Ves, ves!" my grandma murmured during the hallelujahs. I was family and that meant that I couldn't get out, so along with my grandma I gave Tencha mal ojo back. All this on Palm Sunday. I felt dirty.

Like any well-oiled machine, we sent in the big guns in to fight the good fight on Monday morning. The self-appointed patriarch of the family, my mom's cousin Chonito was the head of the church building fund, organizer of the annual summer church festival, and a high up in the Knights of Columbus. He was also a wiz at strong arming local politicians and council members. Hell, even I'm a little afraid of him. Today, was the official drawing of the proverbial line in the sand as Chonito paid the Priest a visit. Chonito calmly asked the Father to "reconsider [his] decision". Hell, he might as well have brought the olive branch. Instead, he got a shrug and the big pass off. "The girls in the office handle those things, not me." The man who espoused the world of the Lord to us every week had no power over the catty ladies who sat in the front office typing the Sunday bulletin? Come on. In other words, no pleading with the greater good was going to work. So Chonito did what he does best. He threatened the Priest. "Father, you have a lot of people in this parish who are unhappy with you and now you have one more. I'm not someone you want unhappy with you." The Priest was shocked. Chonito stormed out of the parish office and rolled away in his giant Lincoln Navigator (limo tint? Of course. 20 inch rims? Hell yeah.). When I heard, I crossed myself. Oh Lord, was this sacrilege?

That Monday afternoon, everyone in our clan got a call instructing them never to go to that church again nor to give a single cent to the orchestrators of the Great Church Hall Theft of 2003. Fine with me, hell I didn't need to be getting mal ojo on a weekly basis or feel guilty for only giving change during collection because I couldn't break a $20.

We fight, we bicker, but the one thing that you can never do to a family is insult their pride, self-perceived power, or their ownership of a big piece of grass outside holy grounds. Of all of the trip ups and infighting that has occurred in my tenure with this clan, nothing has united us more than the Great Church Hall Theft of 2003. Secret family meetings were held about la situacíon (yes, the situation). I have never seen a phone tree develop so quickly, people volunteer their homes, or the homes of guys who know guys who may or may not have done jail time, tu sabes.

It all worked out in the end I guess. My parents still have to drive 30 minutes away to the next closest Catholic church and attendance of mass at Sta. Maria de Guadalupe's is down about 200 plus. But this Easter, steaks and tripas were barbecued, kids hunted for Easter eggs, and alcohol flowed (Thank you Budweiser). All this at our new location, found when we all put our heads together and got over the fact that in the end it was about the celebration, not where it was celebrated. This year's Gonzalez Family Reunion was perhaps more of a blow-out than any in years past. The location helped. But I can't tell you where it is. Your family might try to steal it. Then people would have to get hurt. Amen.

Is Britney....

2007-02-13T16:05:00.000-08:00

...gonna be the next Anna Nicole? Um, I think she is well on her way. They need to do one of those intervention things on her or some-thing cause, they are gonna take her kids yo! Maybe she needs to go to the Christian rehab like my primos. That shit works, cause then you get addicted to the Lord instead of the smack. My primos are hella high on the Lord and like to say long prayers. I don't think Brit's family would mind long prayers instead of long humiliating interviews on national television. Whatever it takes is all I'm saying. Send her to Juvie, give her a beat down - R-E-G-U-L-A-T-E. Is her mama blind or something? 'Cause if I did anything that humiliating to my family, um, that would mark the end of my days on this earth. I'm just sayin', meal ticket or not, that girl needs someone to smack some sense into her bad weave.

BTW, love the tie necklace Brit. It's so classy. Did you get it at Claire's?

And did you wonder what happened to pobrecita Felicia, her trusty assistant with the unfortunate ears? Even Felicia was like "Fuck this crazy bitch, I ain't talking to Child Protective Services no mo'. I'm going back to the south y'all!" Here's what she wrote to the dude who used to run Britney's now defunked fansite, worldofbritney.com.

Ruben,
Once again–I commend you for your Honesty and Integrity. I have been reading your new website daily and am grateful to have that to go to, to check on the antics of Britney. Britney doesn’t have a Publicist for me to clear this thru first, so it will come directly from my heart to you!

I am writing in response to “Where is Felicia?” on your editorial.I am home–in Mississippi…….I am now a trained Corporate Flight Attendant and fly with a tiny jet company out of Georgia. I am also a substitute Preschool Teacher at the Church Preschool in my town. I LOVED being with Britney for the past 9 1/2 years. I enjoyed being a part of HER dream, but now, am living my own dream.

I cherish ALL the incredible opportunities that came my way thru my job with Britney and am crushed/saddened/heart sick by the way her life is unfolding…….

I want you to know Ruben that WE (as in her Family and nearest and dearest—ALL of whom are NOT on the payroll anymore!!) are doing EVERYTHING in our power to get help for Britney and all in our power to NOT pad the bottom or move the bottom, so when she does indeed hit rock bottom, she’ll stand up and walk away from this whole fiasco a new, confident, changed, career driven Britney like we all knew and loved.

There’s just so much you can do to help a person—I don’t dare want to be an enabler, and I cannot love her enough for the both of us. I cannot convince her in ANY way to love herself. All I can do is be a friend, someone that loved her for MANY years unconditionally, and PRAY. That, I have decided is the most and best I can do for my friend. I cannot save her from herself, nor can I commit her to any type of treatment program against her wishes and will. I am throwing my hands up and realizing that I am helpless over another—ANYONE!

It’s been a hard reality for me to face. I have lived my best example daily, and that is ALL I’m capable of. To see what’s transpiring now, makes me feel a failure, defeated. I LOVED and BELIEVED in what I was a part of for the past 10 years and was so incredibly proud of Britney and all she’d become.

All that to say this Ruben–I’m so Southern, and the BEST way for me to tell you how I feel is to say—You can just kick an old Dog so many times before he gets off the porch. I, FELICIA, am OFF the porch!!

Thank you for ALL you’ve done–ALL the love and support over the years. ALL the non-judgement and ALL the Honesty!

PLEASE let me know if there’s ANYTHING I can do to repay your kindness. With as much sincerity as I can Muster,

FE

I got your ice blended right here. You like that?

2007-02-04T16:08:00.000-08:00

Children in Los Angeles are like accessories. Hot new Marc Jacobs purse, check. Iced Grande Latte, check. Child in a ridiculously adult outfit, check.

Per capita, Los Angeles has less children than your average American city, and for that reason some of us become desensitized to the little buggers. So when they invade your personal/public space, it’s like a dog whistle or a sudden outbreak of hives driving you to distraction.

Today, I happily sat in the local coffee shop working when some white people showed up with their cute little boy. He was wearing shorts and rain boots. I smiled. Then he sat right next to me, then he started to talk, then he didn’t shut the fuck up, then he started to jump on the chair next to me, then he spilled his vanilla ice blended all over the fucking leather club chair all while his oblivious mother stood there waiting for her Americano. Are you kidding me lady? Really? You aren’t going to regulate on this shit? And do you think it’s a good idea to give you hyperactive ADD child more coffee?! Cause let me tell you something, that kid needs a cachetada more than he needs a treat for the way he is behaving. You need to spank him and if you don’t, I’ll do it for you. Really, I’m happy to help out so that me and the other twenty people in the coffee shop don’t have to hear his high pitched screams and tantrums. And after I slap him, I’ll slap you. Pendeja.

Cage Match: Mariah vs. J.Lo

2007-02-03T20:27:00.001-08:00

Bitch don't mess around. I NEED to see this girlfight. NOW. Oh, my little black heart would swell with such joy.

Comadres on ..... Beyonce

2006-12-05T11:33:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, when you are feeling particularly unfunny and uninspired, your comadres bring it home with their insight and wisdom.

Comadres on: Beyonce - An Academic Discourse

IG: …I think Beyoncé is probably a biatch in real life. She just gives off that vibe. I’ve made up my mind that I just don’t like her, no matter how catchy that “Irreplaceable” song is. I think Jay Z deserves better. That is my deep thought of the day.

KGL: Speaking of drama, did you hear about the ruckus Beyonce and her parents were causing about Jennifer Hudson getting more press than B for "DreamGirls?". OMG. Supposedly, Mathew Knowles was completely rude to her on the set and at the premiere, and Mama Knowles was ignoring her. They wanted B to be the star and be considered for an Oscar, and the former American Idol was stealing all the press from B. with her amazing performance. The Knowles' are wrong. Act Christian, people! But...I still love Beyonce b/c she is from Houston and her songs make me want to get up and dance! "All the woMEN who are indepenDENT, throw yo hands up at me-e." Plus, I saw that she sells House of Dereon jeans at TJ Maxx and I love TJ Maxx.

MC: Beyonce sucks. He isn't irreplaceable. Who are you going to get better than him? Whatever. And how are you going to "upgrade him"? He has more $$ than you!

IG: YOU KNOW??!!! Whatever, B, Jay-Z is much too good for you, although apparently you are getting married this weekend. BLECH. And yes, I’d heard about how horrible the Knowles treated poor Jennifer Hudson. I hope she blows everyone out of the water and gets nominated for an Oscar and WINS. That’ll shut up stupid mumbler Beyoncé. I seriously, seriously think she is stoopid.

VC: mmm. beyonce's voice sucks. i suspected this for a long time, then my friend liz saw her and alicia keys and missy elliot and she said that beyonce was REALLY bad live. but i love her studio-enhanced music. jay-z is ugly. fix your teeth! you've got boocoo bucks. get braces! and work out a little. get a personal trainer for those arms! it's one thing to be poor and out of shape - but dude, you've got money. plus, the npr review of his come-back cd said it was lukewarm and middle-aged. plus, i didn't like that he was all DL about his relationship with beyonce. i'm not taking sides on this one b/c both of them are problematic.

IG: Bite your tongue, V!!!! Jay-Z is awesome. He's just ugly and there's nothing he can do about that (although I agree with you that he should hit up the gym - but I thought Beyoncé made him do that already???). And so what if he did not want to whore out his relationship with Beyoncé??

KGL: And whose song, "Murderer," makes me shudder everytime b/c it is SO awful.

VC: omg that is the worse song ever. she got a billboard award yesterday beating mary j and beyonce (i think). jay-z USED to be awesome. and braces take no effort - they even have clear ones now.

IG: And, she’s just basically admitting to being a ho. I mean, who DOES that???

KGL: Crazy girls with crazy eyes from Trinidad & Tobago, that's who.

AR: BTW, the Beyonce being mean to Jennifer Hudson thing is totally true. I have sources. And she was really mean to her at Oprah and wouldnt' talk to her because Oprah called J-Hud to tell her how amazing she was. Also, Michael Knowles called and demanded they recut the movie and they laughed in his FACE! Apparently, B is a big baby who totally believes all the hype that her parents have created around her. I just think about Michelle and Kelly. Kelly prob didn't have it as bad but Michelle had to have known what she was getting into.

IG: Ohhhhhhhhh, I hate Beyoncé. BTW, bitch, you can’t act. Get over yourself. It’s clear that you did not graduate high school. My mother, for whom English is a second language learned late in adulthood, has better diction than you. OH! I HATE HER! HATE! HATE! HATE! I hope Jennifer wins a million trillion awards and that Oprah become her fairy godmother spreading lucky gold dust all around her. I hate Beyoncé.

KGL: Ooh, as much as I love me some Beyonce, I truly DIG Mary J. Blige. She is so soulful.

IG: Do you all remember when Mary J. was a coke whore?? Literally? Back in the "Real Love" era --?? It was glorious! :)

Harry Potta'

2006-11-01T17:07:00.000-08:00

Okay, I've never seen the Harry Potter movies. I know, I know. I really don't care if I ever see them ore not. But, I found this on youtube and it has amused me for 2 days. This girl is hilarious. When is she getting her own show?

Video the Vote!

2006-10-26T10:43:00.000-07:00

Mighty Racist

2006-10-12T13:56:00.000-07:00

Why does this picture of Angelina Jolie make me so uncomfortable? Perhaps because they darkened a bitch up to play that dead journalist's wife, Mariane Pearl.

It's for the new movie A MIGHTY HEART which Brad Pitt bought with Jennifer Aniston when they were married. When they seperated, he stole that shit from her and put sucia Angelina in it. I'm sorry but this is reaching SOUL MAN territory. I'm not okay with it. What does Zahara think of this?!

House of Crackheads

2006-10-03T16:49:00.000-07:00

So last night, I watched the premiere of HOUSE OF CARTERS. I have to say that it was the most anticipated new show of the season for me because I've read every tragic detail of the break up of this family. Cheating father, lying mother, missing money, 19 year old hoe that daddy is fucking. I mean it doesn't get much better than that. Unless you televise it.....

I really don't know how I endured the hour of screaming and yelling. But having survived it, all I can really say is - wow, this family is fucked up! I mean, all our families have their degree of fuckedupness, but I think the Carters take the cake.

First, there is unfortunately named sister Bobby Jean (aka BJ). When your two options in life are to be called BJ or Bobby Jean, you kind of know that things aren't gonna go to well for you. BJ is the ugly sister. She has bad hair and bad skin and she makes it worse by smoking. She wants to be a cooking show host, which is ironic considering that the rest of the family hates her food. BJ is all about her low self-esteem, her big boobs and the bottle. BJ finds love with her bff alchy-haul, until people fuck up her buzz then she gets mean and kicks her dogs. Poor BJ, they should have left her in the trailer park in Sarasota. Her name is her fate and her fate is to pass the days on a lawn chair drinking and smoking her life away in front of the trailer park.

Aaron Carter is totally a meth addict. He's got the acne and the scabby face. He tweaks, I mean works, in the studio at ungodly hours and I think that he is abused by his big brother Aaron. He's like a lame puppy one moment and then he gets all crazy, invincible in the next. Pobrecito. I wonder if he used to freebase with Lohan or Duff. I would have paid money to see that.

Angel and Leslie want to be a model and a singer, respectively (or irrespectively). Angel looks like one of those girls who rocks the barbazon modeling classes at the mall. Leslie feels guilty for being the last one to leave their crackhead, thief of a mother back in Florida to peruse her dreams.

The entire house is headed up by Nick, who has taken on roll as segregate father to the brood because apparently, before this, they didn't even talk to one another nor did they know that they were all in the same city working on their "art". Nick is going to make all their dreams come true, just like Lew Pearlman did for him. During this time, he will whip them into shape by fighting with them, biting them (I'm serious), telling them that their mother used them all, and touching them in inappropriate places...okay, well maybe not that, but you get the point.

All in all, House of Carters is a sad look into the lives of people whose lives fall apart when a bad cocktail of white trash, stage parents, talented kids, and sudden cash flow mix together in the state of Florida to give you this.

Yes, it's terrible. Yes, it's sad. Yes, you can see them all 20 years from now being totally fucked up and destitute. But for now, they are living in a house in Beverly Hills, screaming at each other and spending their money like it grew on trees. I can watch that for thirteen episodes and not let it weigh on my conscience.

So What....

2006-09-13T17:07:00.000-07:00

"So What" - that song that has gotten so much air play on the radio lately and has become my new office song, sure has stuck it out for the long haul. I love to sing it in the car, in the shower, while I'm standing at the copy machine at work, to myself at my desk, I even sing it in my sleep while I'm snoozing in the morning trying to get my ass out of bed.

My comadre pointed out very astutely that this song had to have been written for gelat (latina) women. I have to say that after thinking about it, she's got to be right. Could it be that this is our theme song for better or worse? Ay dios.

SO WHAT
Field Mob
feat. Ciara
[Jazze Pha]
Ladies and GENTLEMEN!
Jazze Pha, Field Mob, Ciara, Superstar DJ's
Here we go

[Chorus - Ciara]
They say - "He do a little this, he do a little that
He always in trouble," and I heard
"He's nuttin but a pimp, he's done a lot of chicks
He's always in the club," and they say
"He think he slick, he's got a lot of chips
He's sellin them drugs," and I heard
"He's been locked up, find somebody else
He ain't nuttin' but a thug"
So whaaaaaaaaat, so whaaaaaat
So whaaaaaat, so whaaaaat

[Shawn Jay]
And they say - I'm a slut, I'm a ho, I'm a freak
I got a different girl everyday of the week
You too smart you'd be a dummy to believe
That stuff that you heard that they say about me
They say that I'm THIS, they say that I'm THAT
But all of it's fiction, none of it's fact!
But you don't be hearin it about your lover
You let it go in one ear and out the other
Now he say, she say, they say, I heard
If they fake we can't let it get on our nerves
She miserable, she just want you to be
Like her, misery needs company
So don't listen to that vine of grapes - They're
Nuttin' but liars hatin, and I bet
They wouldn't mind tradin pla-ces
with you by my side in my Mercedes

[Chorus]

[Smoke]
Mo' Money, Mo' Problems, life of a legend
Haters throw salt like rice at a weddin
So what, that's your cousin, that don't mean nuthin
Her like missin is a type of affection
You get, you just blind to the facts
See the lies just as obvious as cries for attention
Yield to the blindness to apply your suspicion
But listen, say you love me, gotta trust me
Why you stress this high school mess?
Break up never, they just jealous!
Drama from your mother, mean mug from your brother
I'm that author of the book, they can judge from the cover
Yes - I been to jail
And yes - I'm grindin for real
I'm a positive talkin negative pimp
They hate to see you doin better than them, so!

[Chorus]

(Ladies and Gentlemen, Ciara)

[Ciara]
Some people don't like, it
'Cause you hang out in the street
But you my boy-friend
You've always been here for me
This love is serious
No matter what people think
I'm gon' be here for ya
and I don't care what they say
Some people don't like, it
'Cause you hang out in the street
But you my boy-friend
You've always been here for me
I love the thug in ya
No matter what people think
I'm gon' be here for ya
and I don't care what they say

[Field Mob ad-libs as song fades]

Tortilla Nation

2006-09-12T16:21:00.000-07:00

I feel the need to educate people on a recent trend that has me very worried. I just saw a commercial yesterday for the new McDonalds $1 Chicken Snack Wrap. People eat in on the street, they eat it on the go, they eat it in the office, they eat it at home. It’s so convenient, that you can take it on the go and hold it in one hand because it’s neatly rapped in America’s new boyfriend – The Tortilla.

In this world of healthy wraps, nouveau fusion Mexican cuisine, late night drive ups and fast casual dining….it seems that tortillas are making a leap to the A-list. I’m proud of the tortilla. It’s getting its much needed moment in the spotlight. But like most things that hit the mainstream, America has begun to pimp out the tortilla so that it has begun to look like a shadow of its former self. It's being handled by mere mortals and it may be a danger to us all. Let me explain…..

When I was a little girl, every morning, Hermelinda, the lady who took care of my grandpa would make homemade tortillas and pan. She would put some scrumptious butter on my tortilla and roll it up for me to have with my café con leche. It was a delicious treat that was stunting my growth and packing on the early pounds, but I was four years old, what did I care? My torrid love affair with the tortilla had begun.

My grammy would often make me tortillas with peanut butter and jelly for an afternoon snack. She would grill the tort to an inch of its life so that it was nice and crispy and smear on the PB&J and I would have it with a bottle of Pepsi (because Mexican’s believe firmly in that Pepsi won the challenge and we also love to recycle glass). The most important part of this equation was the fact that the tortilla had to be very, very toasty.

In my early years, whenever I would try to take her to Taco Bell she would scoff. No way was she going to eat there. Their tortillas were RAW. When we would have brunch at Mexican restaurants, my grammy would send back many a tortilla at a restaurant because it wasn’t toasty enough. “Like a cracker!” she would say when she sent it back. I think her record for sending back the same set of tortillas was five times.

I finally asked my grandma one day why she was so insistent that the tortilla had to be so crispy. “It’s better that way, and besides, if it’s raw, you’ll get worms!” Whaaaaaa-waaa-waaaa-WORMS? I was gonna get worms? Like my dog? Like they were gonna eat me from the inside out and squirm in my body? Oh my God, how many soft tacos had I eaten in my lifetime? How many Big Beef Burritos would it take for a colony of worms to grow in my belly? I was going to die. At the tender age of eight, I knew that it was all over. I was a mere vessel for parasitic colonization.

I ran home and told my mom that I was gonna die. She said that it probably hadn’t done that much damage. “So it’s true?” I asked. “Better to err on the side of caution,” she replied cryptically. From that day on, I never, ever, ever ate a raw tortilla again. Not steamed, not warmed. I needed those bitches grilled to an inch of their life. I even sent them back a few times.

Now in my lifetime, my grammy also told me that if I ate chile seeds that the seed would go in my appendix and I would die. She also told me that eating Vicks was good for me. My grammy knew lots of stuff, so I ain’t trying to question her wisdom.

Today, I would like you to ask yourself the following questions. Does it really seem like a good idea to eat raw dough? Do issues of salmonella and yeast raise a caution flag for you? Do raw eggs scare you? Then I would think that eating a tempe wrap in a raw tortilla (no matter how sun-dried tomatoed that shit is), a steamed burrito, or a microwaved quesadilla might be a little suspect.

Let this be a cautionary lesson for you all. Don’t be fooled by whitey’s attempt to appropriate our foods. They don’t know what they are getting themselves into and I strongly question their ability to handle such things. Tortillas are to be handled with care, cooked on a comal, sarten or directly on your gas stove. There is no other alternative. If a live flame has not touched your tortilla, you may be in grave danger. Assure yourself good health and a long life. Cook your tortillas. You might have to send that shit back five times, but at least you won’t have to have your appendix taken out because of a damn chile seed or have worms eat your insides out.

Lonelygirl15 - Not So Lonely

2006-09-08T12:54:00.000-07:00

So yesterday, I mentioned my current fixation with video blogging. One of the people who I neglected to mention was someone named Lonelygirl15 . I had seen Lonelygirl15's videos featured on You Tube and all the hits she'd gotten, so I watched them. Honestly, I didn't get it. They were kind of boring and a little weird and too personal.

I never thought much of it again until I saw an article in the LA Times today. Could it be that Lonelygirl15 isn't real at all? That she is a genious marketing tool used to promote an upcoming horror movie? Fucking brilliant.

Mystery Fuels Huge Popularity of Web's Lonelygirl15

By Richard Rushfield and Claire Hoffman

September 8, 2006

Lonelygirl15 appears to be an innocent, home-schooled 16-year-old, pouring her heart out for her video camera in the privacy of her bedroom. But since May, her brief posts on the video-sharing site YouTube and the social networking hub MySpace have launched a Web mystery eagerly followed by her million-plus viewers: Who is this sheltered ingenue who calls herself "Bree," and is she in some sort of danger — or, worse, the tool of some giant marketing machine?

No one has publicly come forward to lay claim to her work, but she is starting to look as connected in Hollywood as any starlet. Three lonelygirl15-obsessed amateur Web sleuths set up a sting using tracking software that appears to show that e-mails sent from a lonelygirl15 account came from inside the offices of the Beverly Hills-based talent agency Creative Artists Agency.

The apparent CAA link takes its place alongside other tantalizing pieces of evidence that lonelygirl15 is not who she claims to be: a copyright for the name obtained by an Encino lawyer, and a plot line that, leading speculation suggests, will turn out to be the lead-in to a horror movie's marketing campaign.

CAA spokesman Michael Mand said he "could neither confirm nor deny" that the agency is representing whoever is behind the 27 video posts. (Other talent agencies and production companies contacted by The Times denied any connection.)

As to horror film rumors, calls made to several studios found no such plans — but plenty of fascination for the way in which a Hollywood-ready cultural phenomenon has been built from a grass-roots Web platform. Lonelygirl15, many say, is the next-generation "Blair Witch Project," using interactive forms of storytelling that, like the 1999 hit, tries to trick an audience into thinking it's true.

Indeed, if a commercial project does result, lonelygirl15 may prove to be a model of how to harness a groundswell created on seemingly populist, user-driven websites such as YouTube and MySpace.

To fans, meanwhile, it doesn't seem to matter whether lonelygirl15 turns out to be a private citizen or part of something bigger.

Riana Giammarco, a Rhode Island 20-year-old who curates a lonelygirl15 discussion board (one of several on the Web) says the mystery is the principal draw for her.

"I like the community aspect of the mystery — getting together and trying to figure it out," Giammarco said in a phone interview. "Though I would still watch if there weren't a mystery, the videos wouldn't appeal to me as much."

Lonelygirl15 began quietly, posting in May two amateurish tributes to other videos on the Web's confessional arenas. For a moment she was just one of thousands who post videos on the site each day, typically young people speaking into cameras about their personal lives, a familiar trope from reality TV.

On June 16, lonelygirl15 made her first appearance in a video, titled "First Blog/Dorkiness Prevails." Dark-haired, big-eyed and pretty, she blinked nervously and hugged her knees as she described living in a small town "hours from a mall" with strict religious parents and a friend named Daniel, who she didn't like "in that way."

Over the next three months, two dozen more videos hit the Web, spaced out every few days. Bree dangled hints about her life, revealing that she had spent her youth in New Zealand, was treated for "lazy eye" and had an obsession with physicist Richard Feynman. Oblique references popped up to "my religion," which was never named but which forbade things such as attending Daniel's high school graduation party.

Fans soon started to notice jarring details. A music clip from an undiscovered L.A. band was mixed in to her well-edited montage sequences. Her room was movie-set neat. Above her bookshelf hung a photo of famed occultist Aleister Crowley. Thin already, Bree talked about an upcoming religious ceremony that she would participate in, even though it involved going on a diet.

On the message boards, discussions revolved around the single shoot theory: that the videos must have been filmed in one batch, because they gave little or no nod to the furor erupting around them. The landscape of two outdoor videos had botanical clues that suggested Southern California.

Since June, the videos have regularly made it to the top of YouTube's daily "Most Viewed" list, averaging about 200,000 views each, with several topping 600,000 — viewership many cable TV executives would kill for.

In late August, fans discovered that the Web address for lonelygirl15.com had been purchased before the first video even appeared, with efforts made to shield the identity of the buyer.

In early September, Web forums erupted with the news that lonelygirl15 had been trademarked and the application filed by an Encino lawyer named Kenneth Goodfried. (He declined to comment for this article.) Within days, the MySpace profile of Goodfried's daughter was being combed for connections to the video.

Independent film director and blogger Brian Flemming, who is known for creating edgy film events, became wrapped into the story when viewers became convinced that Flemming had constructed the whole thing in order to promote an upcoming film.

Flemming said he received more than 300 e-mails from people accusing him of involvement.

"People have been confronting me with coincidences, and I don't know how to explain it," Flemming said, choosing his words carefully for fear of furthering the theories. "It's been pretty crazy and actually not particularly desired. It's like a big gift being handed to me that I don't want."

In the last week, the videos have developed seemingly ominous themes. In "Bree the Cookie Monster," Bree and Daniel, on her bedroom floor, sample cookies they say they have made. Judging a contest is a purple monkey puppet, who holds up scores for each cookie recipe. The first cookie was given a "10." The second a "12," the third "06."

Viewers immediately asked: Why 06 and not just 6? Soon, a posting told the virtual crowd that Aleister Crowley was born on October 12, 1875." Could it be that the ritual lonelygirl15 had been preparing for would take place on Crowley's birthday?

But the most compelling mystery has become who is behind lonelygirl15, and fans soon became proactive in trying to solve that bigger puzzle. Driven by hours of conjecturing and late-night instant-messaging analysis, three amateur sleuths who met on the discussion boards on lonelygirl15.com hatched a plan in August to lure lonelygirl15 to MySpace profiles they had created for the purpose.

They were Shaina Wedmedyk, an 18-year-old Oberlin College freshman; Chris Patterson, a 36-year old software engineer from Tulsa, Okla.; and a 23-year old law student in Pennsylvania who declined to be identified by name.

On Aug. 29, they sent an e-mail from a profile they had created for "Seth," an imaginary 17-year-old from Ohio. He told lonelygirl15, "You seem really cool!! I added you and I hope you will add me back. We have the same interests! Your videos are cool, where do you host them? MySpace?"

Later that day, they received an answer. It read simply, "Hi seth :) I think I added you…. The videos are on youtube. What sort stuff are you into?"

Using the tracking software, the team was able to see that seconds before lonelygirl15 had sent the note, someone had looked at Seth's profile. This visit was the only one the profile had received in 17 hours, suggesting that whoever was at the controls of the lonelygirl15 account on MySpace looked at Seth's page before sending the message.

The user's IP address — the number assigned to any Internet-connected computer — was traced to the private server of CAA in Beverly Hills.

Tuesday night, lonelygirl15 posted a sexually tinged video titled "Poor Pluto," in which Bree bemoans the demotion of Pluto to sub-planetary status.

Sprawled on her bed, she stares into the camera and remembers her brief time at a regular high school, when she loved stars.

"They said I was doing something with my teacher, and that's when I stopped asking questions about stars."

Another riddle that will move the story forward?

Or, perhaps, there is a truly mind-blowing explanation for lonelygirl15, albeit one that keeps receding ever further into the realm of the unlikely: just a bored teenager with a camera.

High School - Bye School

2006-09-07T17:55:00.000-07:00

I live a block away from a high school. I never think much of it when I’m on my way to work except that I need to slow down lest I get pulled over for driving too fast and threatening the life of our future America. But now that it’s September and the summer is over, I realized that kids are actually back in school. They are. Can you believe it?

I drove by the high school this morning and saw all these kids up in on the front steps with their heavy book bags, trudging their sleepy little asses to class, looking like this was the last place in the world that they wanted to be and I had one thought:

I may hate my job, I may hate my life, but I am fucking glad as hell that I don’t have to go to high school anymore.

High school fucking sucks. It sucked when our parents went. It sucked harder when we went. And I can only imagine how tough you must have to be now to survive the war at home that is one’s secondary education. I mean, do you remember getting up when it was still dark so that you could be in homeroom by 7:20 am? My dad used to rip off my covers, turn on the TV to full blast on the snow channel and put shaving cream on my face and none of it worked. I was still always late in the morning.

My mom would inspect my clothes before I walked out the door and inevitably make me more late when she would get mad that I didn’t iron my jeans. Good lord woman! I’m fucking late! I don’t have time to put a crease in my jeans! Then she would yell at me and ask me what people would think of her if her daughter went out in public looking all “chewed up”. Whatever mom. Whatever.

Then I would rush to school in my little clunker (life was worse when you rode the fucking bus) and sit in my car and do my homework until I heard the last bell ring. I rushed up to homeroom and my teacher would yell at me for being tardy. You know that I was #2 in my high school class (because I took the hard AP classes and some people were fucking lazy ass motherfuckers who took stupid classes like ROTC History so they could get straight A’s and be valedictorians, then go to community college or court reporting school) and I almost flunked out of my AP English class with a Withdrawal Fail (WF) because I was always late? Fuck you, Mrs. Fritz. I still remember your fucked up, sorry ass and I still hate you for it, bitch.

Then I would think about how I forgot my clothes for P.E. and how I had to wear the “Loner” P.E. clothes that actually said LONER on them. It’s LOANER you fucking dolts. Is that place an institution for intelligence or ignorance? Then I would have to run the mile with cholas who would walk the whole thing while shouting expletives like “Fuck you, Miss Rizzo. I ain’t fucking running no stupid ass mile. Fuck this shit. I ain’t running for anyone but la migra.”

Then after P.E., I’d go to lunch and fight for a table at Burger King while I waited for my double cheeseburger, because that’s totally what I needed to be eating everyday to get more chubs club.

After lunch, I would go to Spanish class with La Senora Jameson who had an untimely car accident and was never the same after she experienced some head injuries. Mrs. Jameson taught us the same lazy ass lesson plans in AP Spanish that she was teaching to Spanish 1. Then a week before the AP test she announced, “Tenemos que preparar para el examen de AP.” Um, don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Maybe we should have been thinking about that a while ago, you crazy ho.

Sixth period, Calculus. Group work! Group work is an experiment designed to have students teach one another so that they are too preoccupied to realize that their fucking teacher is a lazy ass who doesn’t know anything about Calculus in the first place. One person does all the work (me) and everyone else copies (everyone else). I guess that class was my best introduction to real world experiences so I can’t hate them entirely for showing me how unfair life really is.

Then I would go to Forensics. Yes, Forensics. Not the kind on CSI, the speech and debate class. Because I was a DORK. I didn’t know I was a dork then, but I was. I would read all the current events magazines and practice my International Extemporaneous speeches and plan our tournament trips to CSU Fullerton and Berkeley. Forensics was the only time I had any fun in school. Que sad that reading about the Middle East crisis in U.S. News and World Report was my idea of fun.

All I could think of was how I was going to have to live this day over again. High school is like Groundhog Day with bad clothes and pimples.

So today, with school back in session, I salute you, young adolescents of the world, for your bravery and your strength. Know that it will all be over soon and you will be free to waste your life and education away in the real world where things still blow. But at least you don’t have to get up so fucking early in the morning to realize it.

I Tube, You Tube

2006-09-07T15:54:00.000-07:00

I am currently FACINATED by people who video blog. I would never do it in a million years, but I get hours and hours of enjoyment during work hours watching people on You Tube share their thoughts and feelings with thousands of strangers who find them so interesting that they are compelled respond with their own video blogs. I guess this is what you call an internet community. To me it's free entertainment because I'm too fucking poor to go to the movies anymore. I gotta get my entertainment from the masses yearning to be heard. Speak to me, gente. I first found LucyInLA who is trying to become an actress.

Lucy is a little innocent girl from Texas who came to LA to act and thinks she is gonna get famous by being on You Tube. She ain't dumb, because she is famous now. I have money on the fact that she'll be repped at CAA within the next month and I'll still be toiling away waiting for someone shitty junior agent to read my damn script. Good luck to you Lucy, you crazy ho.

The other person I found on You Tube is Little Loca. She is a straight up homegirl from East LA. Little Loca is the real mothafuckin' deal and I fucking love her. Loca gives the world shout outs and calls people out on their shit, new wave internet stilo. She's all technological and shit. She don't fuck around and you'd better not fuck with her. Little Loca, I remember when I was like you back in the day. You bring back good memories to this veterana. Keep on keeping it realz, hermana. LL 4eva'.

Flashback

2006-08-25T15:32:00.000-07:00

Remember those bitchin' how-to videos they did on Mr. Rogers and Sesame Street? They are burned into my brain forever. Much more so then my multiplication tables. 8x7? Ummmmm. Ow, my head hurts. Those videos along with my Child Craft Encyclopedias inspired me to create wonderful original creations like box forts, puppet shows, and the worlds' first cell phone system out of two tin cans and a string. Simpler days when we were too poor for Atari, so we created our own fun. Once I buried my report card in the neighbors' yard for fun. When my mom saw what I did and spanked me with a chancla in front of them that wasn't so fun. Then I had to keep the same dirty report card the whole year and it was really embarrassing. Ay.

Anyway, take a look and remember how crayons were made back in the day by white people. Can you believe they used to work in factories? Pretty damn mind blowing if you ask me. Maybe it will inspire you to make your mom an ashtray out of bottle caps.

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Pluto's Pissed

2006-08-25T12:39:00.000-07:00

Poor Pluto. Those wanks at NASA thought that they would drum up a little publicity by causing US Weekly style chaos in the galaxy. So they went and publicly dissed Pluto by disinviting it to the party. That's right Pluto is no longer hip and kewl enough to be a planet. Now, it's just an angry little Icy Dwarf.

Poor Pluto has lost it's status on the planetary scene. It will now be forced to go hang out at El Torito and sip happy hour margaritas instead of going to celebrity karaoke at Guy's. Word is that Neptune was responsible for the "fire crotch" inspired incident when it told the rest of the Milky Way that Pluto was just an icy frozen little planet whose orbit was only determined by Neptune’s, and also that Pluto sucked in bed. Saturn took it further with those fucked up rings and spread it all over town like a bad case of Chlamydia. The Earth tried to be all innocent and through it's publicist stated that it wasn't responsible for the tardo people that lived on its surface like a destructive virus.

Lance Bass was the most pissed because that's where he wanted to go on his little space vacation with Richen. Boo!

When ugly people are arrogant.

2006-08-14T15:35:00.000-07:00

What happens when you start living your life online because you are too socially inept, too frightened by real life, or just too damn ugly to go out there and get a real date?

You turn into this woman, who is apparently the most delusional person on the planet. I f this bitch is gonna give ME dating tips, there is seriously something wrong with my fucking life and I would like to end it now and start over. I just don't get it. My friend Mayra always someone should always bring something to the table. You should either be cute, smart, funny or some combination there of. But this woman is none of those things. And what's worst is she thinks she is fucking great. I just don't understand it. Maybe it's a coping mechanism. Maybe it's the only way she and her cats can make it through another day. Either way....

That's one too many Comicon's for you honey. Even Will Wheaton feels sorry for your sad Star Trek ass. You stupid, arrogant, delusional hoe.

Trimspa, Baby.

2006-08-10T12:07:00.001-07:00

One of my comadres is on a constant rant about Sean Preston and how chubs he is. I think it keeps her up at night because every time we speak our conversation ends with "And how fat is Britney's baby, yo?" I tried to ignore it, becuase I thought she was just being mean. I mean, que mala, he's just a little baby. But then I saw these side by side photos of little (ahem.) SPF. Are they feeding him human growth hormone? My god, woman. Your kid is turning into the Stay Puft Marshmellow Man!
What are you feeding him? Freaking Fosters Freeze hamburgers and fried twinkies? You're kid is out of control. Pobrecito. He's going to be too big to fit into the car seat that you don't use pretty soon. Re.Gu.Late. Put him on weight watchers, Trimspa, something! Get him an ab lounge, I don't care. But for the love of God, save SPF!

WTC or WTF

2006-08-04T17:09:00.000-07:00

Dear Maggie,

What. The. Fuck? I just wanted to ask you that. I want to ask you many questions like - What the fuck made you think pregnant had to be the new ugly? What the fuck made you think that blue taffeta muumuu’s that accentuated your impregnated belly was a good idea? What the fuck made you think that cutting a hem at that angle was flattering? What the fuck are you doing on Wednesday instead of watching Project Runway and getting tips from Heidi Klum (a very hot pregnant lady)? What the fuck kind of weed did you smoke with your man when you laughed your head off thinking that dress was funny then forgot the whole event and proceeded to wear that travesty in public? What the fuck made you buy those shoes from DSW just because they were $29.99? What the fuck has stopped you from visiting Ashlee Simpson's delightful plastic surgeon Dr. Raj to have him look at that Miss Piggy nose of yours?

Oh god. Why the fuck do I even try?

You're useless,

A.Ro

Sucias from Spaaaaaaaaaccccceeee

2006-08-04T14:53:00.000-07:00

Britney Spears is a dirty piece of white trash and I think it's only appropriate that she married someone from Fresno. She deserves and Oscar for how long she hid her true colores from us. Here she is high as a kite and stupid as, well, she always is. My mom said she will keep her eye out for her at the central valley WalMarts where she will no doubt be buying something from the Kathy Ireland collection to wear to the Teen Choice Awards were El Kevin will be showing us his Papozaoo. Until then, let us all pause and contemplate the greater questions Britney shares with us all. Time travel and Back to the Future - can it really happen?

Fergie Ferg

2006-07-18T17:11:00.000-07:00

Fergie is a dirty hoe who stole the hook to Kelis' song Bossy. But I fucking love the bitch anyway and I love London Bridge. It's better than Bossy because it's laced with Meth. Watcha.

Kiss of the Spiderwoman

2006-06-29T12:09:00.000-07:00

At her weekend wedding, Marcia Cross used her ~~veil~~ spider web to trap her little mosquita flower girls. She later ate them at the reception with some creme fresh. mmmm!

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Move Along Guppy

2006-06-29T11:27:00.000-07:00

So Star decided to get ghetto on Babawawah's ass on Tuesday and announce her departure from The View earlier than expected. She got up on her pulpit, praised Jesus, held hands with babawawah, J-Oy!, and whatshernameagain. She told us that Star don't know what the futcha holds, but she knows who holds the futcha.

Lemme tell you something, Big Gay Al holds her future by the balls and she better find her ass another job and quick because all that meth, porn, and that house on Fire Island are gonna get hell of expensive now that that View check ain't rollin' in and Mama Estrella ain't making the dough that she used to. I know she's saving money on fabric and donuts, but she's got to be spending more money on girdles and her plastic surgery bills. Dios te bendiga, Star. Well, not really you nasty bitch.

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Petal Harder Bitches.

2006-06-21T11:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Cyclists,

Fuck you. Fuck you for thinking that your little piece of metal on two wheels is a car. Fuck you for hogging up an entire lane of traffic while all of us in AUTOmobiles sit behind your sorry ass watching you petal as we try and maneuver around you. Fuck you for making me late this morning.

Let me tell you something. If you hadn’t noticed, we live in the most car centric city in the world, Los Angeles. In the city of Los Angeles people drive to get places. That is because they have places to be. So when you decide that it’s a great idea to put on your little lycra tights and go for a “ride” on a Monday at 9am – move your ass to France bitch because I don’t have time for your shit. I’m going to make your fucking little helmet wearing pansy ass suffer. I’m going to cut you off. I’m going to get really close to you in my car. I’m going to come up right behind you and honk. I’m going to scare the shit out of you because you fucking deserve it for making my commute harder than it has to be.

(As for my gelat brethren who ride bikes, I ain’t hating on you for riding out of necessity, but I will just mention that there is this thing called the bus which has air conditioning, gets you there in half the time, and seems very comfortable and affordable. I’m just throwing that out there.)

So, all you cycling enthusiasts can suck it. You aren’t Lance Armstrong. Your little yellow bracelet doesn’t give you super powers. You’re on a fucking bike, remember that the next time you contemplate a “ride” on a weekday morning, because I’ll be aiming. For you.

Thanks,

A.ro

Click Click

2006-06-19T12:38:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry but this man is just hot. I don't know why I think that, because he looks a little like a chango. But maybe I'm into monkeys and I don't even know it. I heart you Nick Lachey and I'm glad you divorced that pendeja Jessica. Let her sit on her daddy's lap for the rest of her life. I'll sit on yours.

MexPheever

2006-06-14T13:04:00.000-07:00

Katharine Mcphee loves the people and we love you! Latinos officially have the McPheever. (Seriously, you see how sweaty these little mocosos look? I know, I'm just jealous.)

photographed at the JC Penney Jam for Kids
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Days of Thunder

2006-06-09T18:35:00.000-07:00

$cientology has officially made it's play for world domination. In an attempt to infiltrate the heartland, L. Ron's peeps have joined the NASCAR family. I wonder what Jesus' e-meter reading is after a few beers.

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Nuh Uh

2006-06-09T10:52:00.000-07:00

Marc Anthony denies the Ying Yang Twins a little taste of Lola. Then Pocahontas wraps herself in a small pox infected J.Lo love blanket. Watche.

I Love U So Much, I Want to Hurt U.

2006-06-06T19:16:00.000-07:00

Marc Anthony took out this full page ad in Variety today to honor his bride, Jennifer Lopez, on her Crystal Award for sparing the American public from another tragic turn at romantic comedy in the year 2006. Yeah Marc. We get it. We know. She's allllll yours. No one elses. We know that you strangle "Lola" (wtf?) a little each night just to test her and remind her that she can never ever leave you. Because if she tries, you just might have to kill her and she will totally, totally deserve it.

Never leave you. Ever. Ever.

Ever.

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Resuscitating Mi ALMA

2006-06-06T16:32:00.000-07:00

So yesterday the ALMA awards returned to television after a long absence. Didn't notice they were gone? Yeah, me neither. Eva Longoria used her leverage as ABC's resident saucy Latina to single handedly get the show back on the air and served as its producer and host. ABC generously gave her a budget of $5 ($4.50 of which she spent on her wardrobe) and let her have a go at it.

All in all, it was a pretty dull endeavor. They couldn't even fill the balcony seats at the Shrine so they only shot at weird downward facing angles. White people like Jessica Simpson, Big and Rich, and Felicity Huffman came to show their support. Black people like The Ying Yang Twins and Brian McKnight also came to show the love and pimp their Spanish language singles. The Asians hate us I guess, cause they weren't there.

There were plenty of awkward moments (most of which involved the woman formerly known as Selena), like watching Eva Longoria have to do the whole show while J.Lo stared daggers into her boobs willing them to deflate. The Ying Yang twins tried to get J.Lo to come on stage and dance with them, but she clung on to the sapo for dear life.
The Sapo got a lifetime achievement award for being ugly and he cried when some randoms butchered his songs. Andy Garcia got an award for being Cuban. Alexis Bledel and America Ferrera were denied because they shared traveling pants with white girls. Paulina Rubio was a hoe. Carlos "Ned the joke thief" Mencia continued to pretend that he is Mexican even though it's a big mentira! George Lopez refrained from kicking his ass. The NCLR lady wore a really unfortunate outfit. Gloria and Emilio Estefan reminded us all who's in charge. (I fucking hate them both)

A good time was had by all. Here's hoping next year has some more drama and a bigger budget so I don't have to Tivo through that shit in 30 minutes and hate myself for not showing the love.

Muscles...if you're nasty

2006-06-02T15:21:00.000-07:00

Daymn. What kind of pills is Miss Janet taking that makes you thin AND gives you muscles? I NEED TO KNOW. Because I've been taking some herbal african crap that Nicole Ritchie recommended and it ain't doing shit. I wanna be ripped!

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Cage Match: McPheever vs. Soul Patrol

2006-05-23T14:31:00.000-07:00

Tonight is the big sing-off on the Idol and I will be watching with baited breath. I can hardly contain myself. The overwhelming in support of Taylor Hicks in the media and the pimping being done by the judges is pissing me off. But if American soccer moms in bad jeans want to vote for him, then so be it. They also elected the idiot we call President.

I have my little cell phone all charged up to vote for Katharine McPhee cause she's cool like that and not a weirdo and I can actually look at her when she's singing. Here's hoping she pulls through tonight 'cause God knows I'd buy her CD before I would ever buy Taylor Hicks'. Go Kat!

I made the mistake of going on the idol message boards because this stupid show has taken my geekdom to new heights. The one really amazing thing I discovered is that this really isn't a talent contest to some people, it's a character contest. It's about who has the best story, who seems like the better person - in essence, who deserves your vote and who deserves to win the big prize. It's not about who has the best voice, it's about the American Idol and what they represent. People discuss how charming and generous Taylor seems when he hugs other contestants. How wrong Katharine was to smile when she discovered she was in the top 2. Fans even go to the extent of analyzing family members of the contestants and assessing how genuine they are or aren't. Very strange, indeed. Because to me (one jaded by the industry), it's all about who would sell more albums, who's more commercial, who has the whole package. Advantage, McPhee. But if the voting trends are any indication, to the rest of America, it's about the unlikely underdog who does tricks when you give him a bone. Advantage, Hicks. But when Simon Cowell shopped this show some 5 years ago, he sold it as "part soap opera, part talent competition". If that is indeed the case, you, Mr. Cowell, are a genius.

And on a final note, I would like to express my thanks to Fox for making this all be over in two days. I want my life back.

And for a little levity...check out THIS hilarious spoof on Tvgasm.com (via ONTD). Made my day.

Que Horor!

2006-05-15T17:10:00.000-07:00

You know how when you were little your mom would wrap you up in, like, ten layers of clothing and put vicks on the bottom of your feet before she put your socks on and you were like "Moooommm, it's the summer time! I'm hot!" and she would reply "Hot, que nada. I don't need you catching pneumonia or a sun burn! Cover yourself!" and you would sweat and sweat and sweat, almost passing out from a heat stroke, but not say anything because then you would get the chancla? Yeah, that doesn't happen to white people. Look at La Britney. I think Sean P. is dead in the back of the car. He's all uncovered, getting a sunburn, and whiplash. My mother would NOT approve.

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Sore Loser

2006-05-15T16:56:00.000-07:00

Why has American Idol's Chris been all menso this week making caca faces to the press saying he's to "bad for the idol". Yeah, you were bad. And boring and that is why your ass got voted off. Deal with it buddy. I liked him before he went and threw himself a big fucking pity party. Let's just remind ourselves what happened to Scott Stipe when he started to believe the hype more that he believed in Jesus.

Check out this hilarious link.

American Wha?!

2006-05-11T11:21:00.000-07:00

OMGOMGOMG. That was some bad ass tv. I ain't gonna lie. I was shocked that Chris got the boot. Look at Kat...she was shocked too.

In my heart, I wanted a Chris/Kat final, but I think Taylor and his tourettes dancing Soul Patrol have this thing locked. It's sad really. He has zero commercial appeal and little Elliot warbles like a hobbit in heat.

Five weeks ago, I don't think I would have said this, but I feel bad for Kat now. If I were in her shoes, I would want to crawl under a rock until all the anger and outrage echoing across America subsides. The nerves have been getting to her the past few weeks and she can't hide it. That would be me. I would walk off that stage and tell them I was quitting because I couldn't take the pressure or the idea of going back on that stage when people just booed and moaned at me.

But, according to my mother, I can't sing for shit. Kat can. So hopefully she'll pull it out next week despite the Idol Machine and wow us with something good. I might actually have for the first time since I voted for Kelly Clarkson in season 1. Go, Kat, Go.

Damn you American Idol for making me give a shit.

And Paula, lay off the drugs. Seriously. It's getting out of hand, you fucking freak.
"Hold me Chris, the room is spinning. It's spinnnnningggggg!"

Tweet, Tweet

2006-05-09T17:05:00.000-07:00

I was Tweety Bird on Halloween '82. I lost the Madison Elementary costume competition to a kid in a giant paper bag monster outfit. I was pissed. I cried. He bought that shit at the grocery store. Mine was hand made by my mama, mofo. But now I understand what the judges knew that I didn't. I would never, in all of my glory, come as close to looking like the honorable Mr. Bird than Nicole Ritchie. It's so effortless, so perfect. I wonder if she's lined her house with newspaper. If someone had told me that I could have won by getting on an all diet coke diet with the sidekick II exercise regimen, I would have started that shit in Kindergarten with Tab and my fucking Speak 'N Spell.
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McJustice

2006-05-05T11:05:00.000-07:00

McGosling loves immigrants! Further proof that they are the most fantastic couple EVER. IN. THE. WHOLE. ENTIRE. WORLD. Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling took to the streets during the "Un Dia Sin Imigrantes/Day Without Immigrants" March in Los Angeles.

This is when I hate my stupid ass for not sticking it to the man and going to work. I fucking love you, McGosling, for loving the people. Adelante!

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MI:V

2006-05-05T10:50:00.000-07:00

Tom: So this is what a vagina looks like?

Kanye: That's what I hear.

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2006-05-04T19:03:00.000-07:00

He's not only a Scientologist, he's also black.

Keeping It Real for Whitey

2006-05-03T17:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday at our commissary at work, there was a sign at the sandwich station reading "Due to yesterday's march, we have no ciabatta bread today. We apologize for the inconvenience." I can live without ciabatta bread for a day. In fact, if the march affects even the ciabatta bread, imagine all the MUCH more significant things that would be halted if this country didn't have an immigrant population that kept our capitalist regime running full force. Dude, but at the commisarry, the white people were piiiiiissssed. Good, let them think about it a little while they eat rye or wheat. Hit 'em where it hurts, y Poquito Mas.

Just Aiiiight For Me

2006-05-03T16:40:00.000-07:00

I don't know what has come over me, but I'm obsessed with American Idol like a freaking twelve year old girl. It's not like it's even a good season. It's Season 5 for Christ's sake. You'd think I would have moved on to some other reality basura like Top Chef. But no, I'm still watching the idol. You watch the show through all the crap competitors to get to the final 5 when people are actually good and, along the way, the producers have some how manipulated you into actually caring who wins!

My money is on Katharine McPhee. That's right, I think I have a fucking low grade McPhever. It's like the Avian Flu. I didn't want it, I just got it. I honestly think that Katharine is really affected and suffers from that child star with a pushy stage mother thing. I don't know what it is, but she sets off my Bitchdar. Maybe I hate her because she's pretty and skinny. But, I guess I can say that she's the most interesting to watch and I can hardly wait to see if she sticks her foot in it again. It's like she's my abusive boyfriend or something. Honestly, once she sang the Aretha Franklin classic "Till You Come Back To Me"- it was over. I was hooked on the McPipe. So Kat, you'd better pull through because I actually picked up my phone and voted for you last night, even though you embarrassed me by writhing on the ground while singing your song. "So A, you're phone was busy last night when I tried to call you. What were you doing?" "Oh, I was taking a survey, yeah, a survey and donating money to the Red Cross."

On happy note...the Gods shined down on us today. My favorite idol, the original Kelly Clarkson, dyed her hair back to a color found in nature! I heart you Kelly! Thank you, thank you, thank you for not making us suffer through your washed out blonde rocker look anymore. Since U Been Gonnnnnnneeeee!

La Pisca

2006-04-25T17:12:00.000-07:00

Brad and Angelina instruct Zahara on planting corn seeds in the desert in preperation for her future career as an exploited child laborer.

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D is for Dumbass

2006-04-25T11:35:00.000-07:00

Dear Denise Richards,

I want my sympathy back. I should have known. All the Denise's that I've ever known in my life (including one's played by Lisa Bonnet aka Lilakoi Moon) have been dirty hoes. You are no exception.

I spent all day Sunday feeling sorry for your whorey ass. I read your affidavit on the Smoking Gun. I worried for you and hoped that you were getting help for your battered woman's syndrome. I thought, man if Carlos Estevez can change his name to Charlie Sheen and pretend he was white, who knows what he could be capable of...right? I mean, he called you a dick face. He said he hoped you got cancer in your face! He slept with prostitutes in Encino. He showed you Nicole Simpson autopsy photos. He gambled away your Wild Things money. This man fucked with your shit.

I wondered how you and Lola and Sam were dealing with the crisis. If they knew that their daddy was a coke loving, pill popping, gambling, sex addict and how that went over at the playground. I thought, it must be so lonely for you now that you can't go to set and play "Is Jon Cryer gay or straight?" What's left, you know?

But then...but then....

You go traipsing around town with your best friend's husband. You tell the world, without saying it, that you were the "other woman".

You fucked it all up. You could have been Jennifer Aniston, yo. What's your problem? You just threw away a big settlement. Think of the syndication money. You could have been on the cover of Vanity Fair! Ok, well maybe Redbook, but beggars can't be choosers. Mensa! You blew it.

Fotos y Recuerdos

2006-04-11T16:55:00.000-07:00

This weekend I had the pleasure of traveling to San Antonio aka The Heart of Texas for my dear comadre's fabulous wedding. We had a fantastic time besides being racially profiled at our hotel where I'm sure it was the first time they had so many young, hip, educated Latinos at their establishment. We regulated, no te preocupes. We saw the Alamo and screamed "Mentiras!" when they told an oral history of the battle. We ate at Rudy's Texas BBQ and thought we would never regain consciousness from our food comas. We drove by Sandra Cisneros' home where she had the gall to put up a sign that said "Please respect our privacy. Autographed books are available at the following bookstores...." I wanted to knock so I could tell her I didn't want her pinche autograph anyways. Does she really think we care that much? Por favor. And lastly, we had a fantastic dinner at Mi Tierra Restaurant that has an altar to La Santa Selena in the lobby. We paid our respeto. (photo pose courtesy of Mike, the fantastic groom.) I'm ready to head back to my Tejano roots soon. Que viva Tejas!

American Cinematic Me

2006-04-04T18:41:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I finally watched the HBO movie Walkout at the urging of my hermanito.

I had seen all of the mass emails going to the gelats in LA when they were filming asking people to come be extras (and to bring their own clothes and a burrito for lunch, cause they were on a budget, yo) so I wasn't holding my breath that this was going to be a cinematic masterpiece. I mean, when there isn't craft service, you're destined to have bigger problems that can't be solved with giving everyone a Kraft handi-snack, y ya.

So last Saturday I sat down to watch the movie with some hot chicharones, a diet coke and my check list of "Things That Have to be in Latino Movies to Make them Down Enough":

1. Directed by Edward James Olmos. Check.
2. Produced by Moctezuma "I made Mi Familia" Esparza. Check
3. Starring primos, hermanos, and tias of the producer and director. Check.
4. Latina who's changed her name to seem more white. Laura Harring. Check.
5. Opressive white characters who in real life are actor gelat sympathizers. Check.
6. Machista's keeping their mujeres down by making them cook tortillas. Check.
7. Selena song. She wasn't born yet, so I'll let that one slide.
8. Split screen montages. Check.
9. Robert Rodriguez cast off. Check.
10. Line about Latinos working with "their hands". Check.
11. Kind of Latina, but kind of not lead. Check.

Um excuse me Edward James Olmos & Moctezuma Esparza, why do you have to put every fucking third primo from your mom's side all up in that shit? I mean, seriously? Seriously. Just because they are related to you, doesn't mean they can act. For once, I would like to see a movie about Latinos that isn't a squandered opportunity. Make a quality film about your issue or take a freaking cue from Robert Rodriguez. He makes mainstream films about characters who happen to be Latino. It's not about your primo getting his SAG card. Chingao. I realize that this movie was about historical events, but it doesn't mean it has to also be about nepotism and you guys jacking each other off. Whatever. I'd much rather go see Spy Kids 4, than see another rehash of you guys reliving the Zoot Suit movement. It's over, you're viejitos. Get over it.

Ritcheeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Juevos, Manzanas y Auntie Mame

2006-03-29T17:17:00.000-08:00

Um, is it just me or is it a little racist that Zahara's own parents are dressing her like a Mame? I mean, don't they promote cultural sensitivity at the UN? WTF? Look at little Maddox. He's like "Bitch, better not even think about putting one of those non bai pointy hats on this head." Word.

Um, is it just me or does little Manzana Martin have a lazy eye? La Gwyneth y Chris used up this little girl's Get Out of Jail Free Card on that fucked up name. Kindergarten ain't gonna be easy. Pobrecita.

Um, is it just me or does The Sapo have no class? ¿Que dira la gente? Sucio.

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It's MY day bitches...

2006-03-23T19:22:00.000-08:00

My superstar comadres, the wedding planner extarodinaires of Always A Bridesmaid Wedding Consulting are being featured on this week's Style Network Show Whose Wedding Is It Anyway? Check them out as they plan a sophisti-gelat (read Latinos with feria) wedding. Will the bride get what she wants? Will the wedding go off with out a hitch? What happens with thousands of dollars of flowers go missing hours before the reception? I'd go loca on someone's ass, but my diligent little Mexican worker bee's work it out. Check out Xochitl and Mayra on their episode "Pop Stars and Dictators". Highlights include Xochitl quoting a famous New York prostitute, Mayra making caras, and a florist who shows up to the ceremony in a wife beater. sigh. Good TV.

Keep Your Friends Close...

2006-03-20T17:52:00.000-08:00

From Neil Sean of Sky News: Jennifer Lopez has hit upon a sure-fire route to a blockbuster - team up with Desperate Housewives sexpot Eva Longoria. She has a script ready to roll which features two sisters, both Hollywood stars, who fall out and dish the dirt on each other to the press. Jen thinks the knock-out comedy is ideal to take her back to the top, and is wooing Eva as we speak. The movie's set to start filming this September.

Well, well, well. La Lopez wants to make friends. This smells a little fishy to me. Maybe because the sapo put her career in the toilet, Jen has been sitting in her rapunzel castle in P.R. thinking of ways to bring La Longoria down with her. Don't do it Eva. Don't do it. Run, homegirl. You don't want to be all drug down and shit by La Jenny. She's gonna want you to be the ugly hermana, ya ves. She's gonna dress your ass up all Betty La Fea and refuse to let you get Mystic Tanned. If she offers to take you to her trailer to have platanos and mofongo, JUST. SAY. NO. It's all a ruse to get you plumped up so that she can stuff you and put you on her mantle. Forget it. You need to be the Salma in this partnership. Let Jenny be the Penelope.

photo. photo.

You're Giving Me a Heart Attack

2006-03-17T09:38:00.000-08:00

Ohhhh whoa is me. Whoa is me. Olivia Newton John, what did you do to your face? Have you been hanging around that sucia Lisa Rinna? Just because she was on Dancing with the Stars doesn't mean that she isn't still a freak. ONJ, you were so beautiful and owned your age. I was hopelessly devoted to youuuuuuuuu youuuu-hohoho/but now/there's no where to hide/since you failed to push the knife aside. Now, I'm out of my head, thanks. Because I was hopelessly devoted to you and then you went and got some bad work done in TJ. My whole Friday is shot because I'm going to spend the whole day hoping for you that your swelling goes down. I hope you didn't do this because of your missing boyfriend. I still love you ONJ. I'll still buy your breast cancer charity albums. But when the aliens come take you to Xanadu, I won't be holding my breath that you'll ever come back.
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I Cast, You Cast

2006-03-16T14:31:00.000-08:00

Imagine the money they could have saved in the prosthetics budget if they had just cast Maggie Gyllenhaal in the new movie Penelope instead of Christina Ricci....I'm just sayin'.

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Friday Musings

2006-03-10T12:10:00.000-08:00

Salma finally tells La Lohan what we've all been thinking. "Bitch, get yo ass to a taco truck." (btw, do you see Salma's brows? Phenomenal. Just, phenomenal.)

I know American Idol is about equity and fairness and talent...but I don't really need to see this dude with Tourette's sing every week. It's painful. I'm worried he's going to fall off the stage. I get embarrassed for him and it makes me change the channel.

My kids are going to dress like this everyday. Every. Day.

Source. Source. Source.

The Sky Is Falling

2006-03-06T18:12:00.000-08:00

So yesterday, the sky fell. A travesty occured. Crash won the Academy Award for best Oscar and white male Academy members patted themselves on the back for a job well done.

Much has been said about this film and the impact that it has made in it's expression and visual depiction of race relations in Los Angeles. People call it a triumph, a momentous moment in filmmaking, a film with spirit. I call it what it is - an over simplified lie. In more plain terms - a piece of crap.

When filmmaker Paul Haggis talked about how he was savagely carjacked from his Porshe a few years ago and how it prompted him to think about issues of race in this country, I laughed. Must be nice to roll around in your 100k sports car with rose tinted windows thinking that the people around you selling oranges on a street corner are just there for decoration. When my friend told me that she heard him speak at a talk about the film and he spent a half an hour discussing the challenge of using one's own multi-million dollar home to shoot in, I wanted to vomit.

The fact of the matter is Crash is an over simplified depiction of racism in this country from the perspective of a privileged white male. As a person of color, I would never even fathom thinking that I could depict the intricacies of racism in a 90 minute film. But then again, I'm not a white man.

If you notice, Crash tells a very black and white tale of race and class in Los Angeles. In the process it essentially silences everyone else. The women in this film have no voice, the ethnic others have no voice. In fact, the point of view in this film is only from a black and white perspective. If you notice, the POV of the latinos, asians, persians, and women are never a part of this picture.

- When Sandra Bullock hugs her maid telling her that she is the best friend she has, we see Sandra Bullock's POV, not the one of the maid. Because her feelings don't really matter do they?

- The POV of the Persian/Latino story line is told in the third person, giving neither men a voice in the personal crises that they are facing.

- Thandie Newton and Jennifer Esposito are both objectified and neither are put in a position to defend themselves from personal attack.

-The south east asian refugees who were enslaved by a Korean man are dropped off in China Town because, you know...they're all the same.

The delicate balance of race and class in this country were put in fucking cliff notes and force fed to people sitting in a theatre already full on $6 popcorn. I hate to think that that people truly believe that as long as they are not overtly racist, what they think or how they act is still okay. The worst instances of racism that I have faced in my life have been the most subtle. You can never put that on film. Who will defend me then? Who will help me out? It's okay to ignore it, if it's not spoken. In the end, this is the message that Crash reinforced to Americans who now think themselves progressive and forward thinking because they were so "moved" by that film.

The worst part of all of this is that a wonderful film, a virtually unmakable film was passed over for an Oscar yesterday. Brokeback Mountain was a film that was made against all odds. It was a period western, a film about two men, in love, made by an Asian director. It was more than that. It was a movie about unrequited love that transcended boundaries. Brokeback Mountain said more about tolerance and healing than Crash could ever dream of saying.

But I guess it's okay for Academy members to vote for Crash and say they are progressive, but not have to say they are progressive enough to honor a film about homosexuality. What they fail to understand is that it's about the universal, heart wrenching experience of love. It was all inclusive, something that Crash would never attempt to be.

So congratulations Academy, you did it. You are sooooo progressive and sooooo not racist. Like when you made fun of Three 6 Mafia, that wasn't racist at all. Hypocrites.

Go Ahead. Axe Me. Axe Me.

2006-02-23T14:47:00.000-08:00

My bro sent me a fantastic article from today's LA Times about Gustavo Arellano's Ask A Mexican column in the OC Weekly.

I think that Gustavo is on to something here because, homeboy touches on some very interesting questions that would make anyone wonder. The first question is particularly near and dear to my heart considering that I come from a tiny town of 18,000 people and there are no less than 5 chinese restaurants. Shout out to my girls at the Tea Garden, what up chinas?! My dad is particulary convinced that all Mexican's are, in fact, half Chinese because of our affinity for the crispy noodles and chow main. yum!

Or, did you know that Mexican women don't walk out the door without looking bien fufuruffu? It's a violation of a cultural rule. eeee, what would people think of you?

The things that you learn, gente. The things that you learn. Visit Gustavo's column. Ask him a question. The answers might suprise you.

Here are some of the highlights:

Dear Mexican, My boyfriend is Mexican, and when we’re trying to decide where to go to eat, he almost always wants Chinese. Same with his family: when we recently visited some friends from Guadalajara, I was looking forward to some tortas ahogadas, but instead was served mu shu pork. Why do Mexicans like Chinese food so much?

Cuisine Confused in the I.E.

Dear Gabacha, Mexicans are eternally fascinated with Chinese, as this column has previously noted. Nothing piques our interest as much as the food. They eat what we eat: beans, pork, goat, turtles, rice, even dogs! But our interest in comida china boils down to economics, Cuisine Confused. Like Mexican food, Chinese is an ethnic cuisine where you can feast like a king on a day laborer’s salary. I can go to Hot Wok in Fullerton and order the three-item combo with fried rice, chow mein and a drink for about six bucks; not surprisingly, Mexicans fill up most of Hot Wok’s tables every time I visit. The value of Chinese food explains the popularity amongst Mexicans of instant ramen. According to the International Ramen Manufacturers Association, Mexicans consumed an average of 9.4 ramen servings in 2004, tops in Latin America and behind only the United States and Russia amongst non-Asian countries. Even the Mexican government distributes ramen to its poor . . . what’s that you say? Ramen is a Japanese dish? Don’t tell that to a Mexican, who believes anything Asian is chino even when it’s Japanese—right, Vietnamese readers?

* * * *

Dear Mexican, [some female readers asked]

Why do Mexican women dress up to go to the swap meet? …. Why do Mexicans put on their Sunday best to shop at Wal-Mart, Kmart, Target, etc.?

Dear Pochas,

… You gotta love our moms and aunts, ¿qué no? Despite living in abject conditions, never having enough money to purchase vaccines for the kids — let alone save up for a Prada this or Manolo that — Mexican women always primp themselves for something as simple as buying tortillas."

* * * *

Dear Mexican,

As an Asian person, would I be considered a gabacho? Or do I fall into the yellow bucket labeled chinito, even though I'm not Chinese?

Dear Chino, Like Americans assume all Latinos are Mexican, Mexicans think all Asians are chinos — Chinese. When I used to go out with a Vietnamese woman, my aunts would speak highly of mi chinita bonita — my cute little Chinese ruca…. Chinese were the Mexicans of the world before there even was a Mexico, migrating to Latin America a couple of decades after the fall of Tenochtitlán.

Everyone Needs an Arlene

2006-02-22T14:21:00.000-08:00

Everyone needs a little help in their lives and when you're a Hollywood star you need it even more. But in this world of selling sex tapes and writing tell all books, it just makes you wonder who you can really trust anymore. That's why celebs entrust their assistant duties to their friends. I mean, what a great fucking way to hang out and get on payroll. That shit is genius. It's kind of like when your uncle would employ all your unemployable cousins in his mechanic shop or something. The Godmother of hiring your bff is J. Lo. She has her trusted friend from the block, Arlene follow her around and they get mani/pedi's together and J.Lo buys her things and she gets a salary. Arlene is brilliant. Other celebs like Jessica Simpson have followed suit. She has even flown CaCee (corn) Cobb out from Texas, y'all. Britney Spears has that feita Felicia follow her around everywhere tambien. Felicia also has really big ears so she can hear gossip and the click of the telephoto cameras from really far away. Tres helpful. All these assistants get the fancy treatment, get to be in magazines as "friend" or "guest" and yet they benefit from all the perks without having to be tabloid fodder. Who wouldn't want the left overs of someone's shwag bag from the Oscars? I mean come on now. Smart women. Smart women.

Just Like You and Me

2006-02-13T15:09:00.000-08:00

I know this is a little late, but I just saw Eva Longoria on Oprah. Let me pause and make an observation. Say what you will about Eva being at the wrong place at the wrong time with everyone from Mario Lopez to J.C. Chasez in the press, this appearance really erased all those nagging questions I had about her. Eva Longoria is a class act, because she did something truly gelat...and she did it on national television. Oprah helped Eva redecorate the new home that she bought for her mom and dad.

Eva had no problem showing us the little ranchito that she grew up in. Eva's dad fed the chickens. Her mom cleaned their humble little kitchen. They even showed us their "pool", a 2 foot deep metal basin that the cows drank out of. Oh, how I related.

Eva told Oprah that she wanted her parents to be touched by the things that she got to experience in her everyday life. Oprah was happy to oblige. In the end, she was so greatful that Eva sponsored a Katrina house. How cool is that?

So props to you Eva for keeping it real. My parents have had multiple Betta Fish Vases in their home too, so I feel you girl. I feel you.

Note to Salma Hayek: The bar has been raised comadre. When are we going to see the humble little home (aka the giant hacienda) in your pueblito in Mexico that you love talking about? We're waiting. Tick tock.

adios welita

2006-01-30T17:42:00.000-08:00

In loving memory of
DORA BALLI GONZALEZ
August 7, 1918 - January 17, 2006

After the Christmas holiday, my beautiful welita got very sick. She passed away on January 17th, 2006. My welita was the strongest, bravest person I know. She bore her cross bravely and lived her life with great dignity and grace. My I loved my welis very much and I'll miss her forever. Below is the eulogy that my brother and I delivered at her services.

We love you grammy.

My abuelita sewed me payamas made with love from the fabric of a bag of California Classic arina.

She taught me to spread a perfect spoon full of maize on an hoja with skill and ease.

My abuelita taught me how to say things like ay que chimpiotes y que varvara.

When I was sick, she feed me little spoon fulls of vicks and tea de anis.

My abuelita filled my life with remedios y requerdos from a corazon filled with una historia that she whispered in secret truths. Truths that spoke profoundly in their subtlety.

I loved my abuelita, and my abuelita loved me.

Today those words of amor y requerdo rest quietly on the lips and in the hearts of an entire family who owe so much to one person.

We are generations; sons, daughters, children, great, greater, and greatest, that are part of one whole.

We share the inherent gifts of power and spirit willed to us by a woman who raised us all in her own image. Her strength, fortitude, and grace runs through our veins. It lives in our souls.

Today we honor our matriarch, Dora Balli Gonzalez.

Dora was a woman who lived her life by example. Poco a poco she would say, knowing that little by little was all you needed to brave life. She braved it everyday and she taught us to too. She was our teacher, her heart our school.

Our lessons learned were many.

To be a person of honor and dignity.

To respect yourself and, in turn, you too will be respected.

Always strive. Strive and be a leader.

Make a little go a long way.

Never wear short shorts y paynate muchacha!

Ay que Dora Balli.

Our abuelita taught us all that your life was what you made it. She showed us that the journey was the destination. She whispered words of strength that rooted themselves in our souls when we thought that one day was harder than the next.

Dora endeavored to share her life with others knowing that every moment that you spend together is far more momentous than any moment you spend alone. We were her witnesses.

And so we remember. We remember little things like the smell of her face powder. The way she applied her lipstick. “Where’s my purse?” She would ask.

Right here, Grammy, right here. Holding all the little touches of who she was.

We remember the feel of her cool soft arms, her warm sweet smell, the softness of the crook of her neck.

The soft touch of her crooked little fingers, her delicate hands, every line an etching and story of a moment in her life.

We remember the moments in time when we were all together, sharing and living and holding tight to the memories that we were creating as a whole.

On a warm spring day in Providence...

On a warm spring day in Philadelphia...

I graduated college.

And so did she.

As she watched over 20 of us graduate from high school, we secretly knew it was also for her. She holds multiple degrees in life. She’s traveled the world tucked in the heart of each and every one of us as we experience opportunity singularly granted in her name, blood, sweat and tears.

She witnessed births, unions, triumph and celebration. She held us when we cried, she picked us up when we would fall. She raised us and sent us out into the world, knowing that we could not falter if we held tight the whisperings of her heart. Every step on every journey that we thought we took alone, was with her.

Perhaps W.H. Auden said it best, because….

She was our north, our south, our east, our west.

Our working week, our Sunday rest.

She was our noon, our midnight, our talk, our song.

When we think of our abuelita, we know that she was the woman, who made us strong.

And so today your generations give you thanks Mom, Ama, Welita, Welis, Lita, Grammy....for molding us....for teaching us....for loving us, as we loved you.

Welita, you sewed us all payamas made with love from the fabric of a bag of arina.

You are were the thread reaching through us to the depths of our souls, our memorias y requerdos.

And through you, we too will find our way home.

Manteca!

2005-12-22T11:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, here is my official holiday post. It will be followed in a few weeks with my post holiday post. That doesn't sound right, but I'm rolling with it. Moving on. So this year, I decided to make cookies for Christmas. I don't know what came over me except that I am sick of going to the wine store and tying ribbons around wine that I pick by price and foreign-ity of label, because I don't really know how any of it tastes. I know foregin-ity isn't a word, but I like it okay. Anyway, this year, I endeavored to actually use my oven, which I bought on craigslist for $75 bucks. I figured I should get my money's worth.

So I called up my mamacita and asked her how to make polvorones, aka the mexican wedding cookie aka the thing that makes me fatter every year especially when combined with tamales. She found a recipe from my cousin and so I was off to the store to buy the following:

1 5 pound bag of flour
1 5 pound bag of sugar
2 pounds of manteca aka lard
cinnimon
anis
1 cookie sheet and one xmas bell cookie cutter because I don't cook

I got home, opened a beer, put on The Notebook and I was off to work. I mixed my 8 cups of flour with my 2 cups of sugar with my whopping 1 1/2 pounds of manteca together with my hands. It was gooshy. It smelled like refried beans. It was gross. I made some anis and cinnamon tea and put that in there with a questionable egg that was in my fridge. Do eggs go bad? I don't know. But it didn't smell bad so I went with it. Let other people get sick. Who cares.

I rolled out my dough and I started to cut the cookies. I put them on the sheet, baked them, rolled them in the sugar and voila - I had polvorones! Wow, who knew that baking could be so fulfilling? It was crazy. People should use their ovens more often.

Then it was time to taste test the polvorones. I took a little bite. Flakey. Sweet. Mixed with a little bit of....what is that taste....I can't quite tell....um.....animal fat. My polvorones tasted like dead pig. All I could taste was the manteca. I ate two and my stomach was a mess the rest of the night. I'm not used to eating all that manteca. It was really upsetting. I asked my mom to taste her polvorones. Do they taste like dead cow? No, she said. They taste like cookies. Maybe I was missing something because mine tasted like I was eating a dead pig rolled in sugar. I was angry.

I tried one the next day. Nope. Still tasted like dead animal.

I asked my mom what I should do. Should I go buy Shortening? The fat of the white people? Mexicans keep it real with Manteca. White people buy Crisco. She told me to try it.

So the next day, I opened another beer, turned on The Notebook again, and tried the process over, this time with shortening. It worked. My polvorones were fantastic. They didn't taste bad. They were delicious. So delicious that I wanted to eat them all. But I restrained.

I guess I'll just call my cookies polvoroneys because they have a little bit of white people in them. But I promise to never eat out of an Ortega Taco Kit. Then I'd be in trouble.

Stay tuned for next week when I give the recap of My Big Fat Mexican Christmas. Let's see who gets drunk by noon, let's see who doesn't show up, let's see who only brings 2 liters of sodas to the potluck. I hope the baby jesus doesn't cry.

If Rachel & Ryan can do it...so can you!

2005-12-22T11:17:00.000-08:00

This is for all my New York friends (you know how you are suckas) who are making the walking trek across the city due to the strike. Know that you are getting good cardio done. Know that you will have tight gluts. Know that you just might spot the cutest couple in the world. A little McGosling can always put a little hop in your step during that 6 mile walk to or from work. Normally, I complain about all the human contact that I am bombarded with on the streets of New York. But if I had to walk across the city and ran into these guys, I wouldn't mind so much. Hang in there guys!

Things That Make Me Cringe

2005-12-14T14:53:00.000-08:00

The Cringe Factor is supremely underrated. When I watched the Ashlee Simpson snafu on SNL with my comadres, one of them, "The Baby", got so embarrassed for La Ashlee that she changed the channel and we missed half of the how-down dance. There is something about the Cringe Factor that is just emotionally indefinable. I mean, it's so spectacularly terrible that you can't believe your eyes, your brain doesn't know what to do, and there is a schism that often paralyzes you into half laughter, half open mouthed wonder.

Today I found a terribly cringe worthy moment online. Witness it ladies and gentleman. Clay Aikin's flirtation with heterosexuality. Poor Kelly Clarkson. I'm sure this cost her thousands in therapy bills.

CLICK HERE...Clay's not gay...Okay, maybe a little...CLICK HERE

Huh?

2005-12-13T19:05:00.000-08:00

I have no words. No words. Okay, maybe a few words. Like what the fuck is going on in this picture? Is that world so warped that this is appropriate public behavior? I don't know what to say, which is I guess appropriate, since Chaplin made silent movies. Oh. My. God. Seek. Help. Now. This is what happens when you don't listen to your trusted assistant. Where is Arlene, J.Lo? You need to keep that bitch as close as Jessica Simpson keeps CaCee Corncob. Buy her a car. Something. For the love of God, woman. You were busted already, but if there were any doubt before, it's over now. He's ruined you.

[source]

AGRO

2005-12-13T18:27:00.000-08:00

I've had a almost a week to sit with my feelings about King Kong. And you know what? It wasn't just that it wasn't my kind of movie. It was one person's kind of movie. It's the movie that smelly, IT, virgin nerds like. It's the kind of movie made for people who would rather live in a fantasy world and play Dungeons & Dragons and Magic: The Gathering at Comicon because they are so socially inept that they can't function in the real world with the rest of us. It's the kind of movie for people like that dork on Ain't It Cool News or Roger Ebert or that guy who sat next to you in science lab with boogers. It's the kind of movie that makes you think again when you sit in a movie theatre seat and things are sticky (ew!). So when people try and tell you that King Kong is some epic movie where they were just a little bored, but it was a Peter Jackson film, so it's okay that their ass fell asleep - well - they are lying to you! When you hear commercials with that "serious film voice over" voice, know that people are fucking with your head. It's hardly a serious movie, let alone a movie at all. What a load of crap! ARGH!!!

Kong Yawn

2005-12-09T16:43:00.000-08:00

So my very nice friend invited me to see a preview screening of KING KONG. And while I would normally have no desire to see a movie about a big Ape, I went for the chicken wings and snacks that were provided before the show. Universal makes a mean peanut butter cookie, let me tell you.
So King Kong is probably one of the most anticipated movies of Christmas, along with the Chinese Geisha and the Gay Cowboys. You know that everyone is going to go on Christmas day to go see this big epic action film by the "DIRECTOR OF THE LORD OF THE RINGS!". Well I'm glad I got it over with because, damn, that movie was the most ridiculous waste of 3 hours and 10 minutes of my life next to my last visit to the DMV. Someone needs to have a talk with my boy Peter Jackson because he has been smoking the Hobbit Hooka too long and hard if he thinks that people want to sit through shit like that for that long. Here are some rules for PJ when he starts thinking about his next movie:

1. Long action sequences are boring. After 2 minutes, we get it. We don't need to drag it on for 10 minutes. I don't like to run that much, let alone watch other people do it.

2. Dialogue is a important. 10 minutes with no dialogue makes you, how should I put this delicately, FUCKING BORED! This isn't the age of silent film for the love of christ. Let the actors speak so that they can earn their salaries.

3. Jack Black is a comedian. Jack Black is not a dramatic actor. He just isn't. I love him in School of Rock, but I just can't take him seriously with that smirk on his face. Sorry.

4. A good wig maker will make or break your movie. When I have to see people's fake hair lines 40 feet high, it just takes me out of the movie. I have to be honest here. I can't stand looking at Naomi Watts with shitty hair. I'm sure that King Kong was annoyed by it too. I know he loved her so he moved past it. But why are you making the rest of us suffer? Take a cue from Nic Cage. He works that shit into his budgets.

5. Dudes climbing mountains isn't that interesting. When the hobbits climbed the mountains for a half an hour in the Lord of the Rings, I got really pissed. It made me mad. Why? Because I didn't pay to see a fucking nature documentary about Mount Everest! CGI alone, does not a good story make. So why do people have to be all up in the mountains again in King Kong? We've seen it. We've had our fill. For the love of God, move on. The rest of us have.

6. Colin Hanks sucks. He is ugly. He looks like his dad. He sounds like his dad. He walks like his dad. He probably bones like his dad. He probably only scores with ugly chicks. I'm over it. Why do people put this retard in their movies? He's so fucking annoying. I want to punch him in the face. Your face is stupid Colin. YOU HEAR ME?!

7. Naomi Watts needs motivation. I have to take a moment and give some props to Naomi Watts because sister acted on a gimble behind a greenscreen with a bunch of New Zealanders standing around eating craft service and somehow she had to get all up in her character and pretend she was falling in love with a big monkey who looks like my dog, Buddy. So props to you Naomi. But is it just me, or did you look the same in every scene?

THE MANY FACES OF NAOMI

In the end, I know I'm just not the right audience for this movie. I'm not making any illusions. The top of my Christmas Movie List right now includes The Family Stone, Rumor Has it, Syriana and Brokeback Mountain. I liked Peter Jackson circa Heavenly Creatures, but that's just me. I'm sure that Peter Jackson could give a flying fuck what I think of his movie and that it will rake in the bucks for Uni, but next time, I'll pass. Unless there's cookies.

Jen Garner Explodes!

2005-12-01T12:54:00.000-08:00

It's official after an 18 month gestation period, Jennifer Garner finally gave birth to a baby girl. After much speculation that she had actually swallowed Jennifer Lopez (using her unhingable man-jaw) and kept her prisoner in her belly, rumors were squelched when she actually birthed the Garner/Affleck Zygote named Violet on Thursday. Affleck was on hand with a bottle filled with Starbucks Vanilla Soy Lattes for both mom and baby. Marc Anthony cackled in evil laughter after fooling us all for so long.

Photo: A Socialite's Life

We Get It...Now Comb Your Hair

2005-11-18T12:57:00.000-08:00

Michelle Rodriguez is bad. We know that. We get it Michelle. You’re a bad girl on and off the screen. You box, you surf, you race cars, you are on S.W.A.T. teams, and now you’re all agro on the deserted island of Lost. When I saw you on the island, I knew that something was up. You clenched your little horsy teeth and I knew you weren’t unhappy because you were eating mangos and needed a bath. It’s because you were up to no good. I still don’t trust you Michelle. You little Rambina, you. You’re a bad ass mofo who likes to kill innocent blonde white girls who’ve had a tough life. Now you’re going to try and move in on the Kate-Jack-Sawyer love triangle on the show. I ain’t having it. Why don’t you get with Claire or Sun. You know you like chicks. We all know you do. Stop lying to yourself. The island is all about starting over. Embrace the pooty. If you did, I bet you wouldn’t be so damn angry all the time. All suspicious and shit.

And while you’re at it, can’t you find some fucking coconut oil or something to put in your hair? You’re doing gelats a disservice by allowing the world to see your fly-aways. If it were me, I would have had that written into my contract. Why do you think Evangeline Lilly never looks busted? Because she regulated. You need to stop being all conspiracy theorist and start taking care of what’s important. Your looks. Pretty people don’t die on la isla bonita, only the ugly dispensable people do. I’m just sayin’.

Gwen Stefani: Chola Couture

2005-11-04T15:20:00.000-08:00

Whud up peoples? Me, nada. Anyways so yeah, you seen that new video for “Luxurious” by my homegirl la Gwena? She’s all ruca’ed out and shit. Damn peoples, her eyebrows were all perfect and shit. She even had a tear drop on her eye like she was going to fill it in when her viejo Gavin was out on tour and left her all alonez. Chale, if my man did that to me I would be like “Fuck that, viejo. I know there’s all these hoodrats and scrapas out there trying to get wit-choo.” Nah, I ain’t having that. Those little putas better watch their backs cuz La Gwena would throw down, no joke. She has a big ole posse up in that video. The little japonesas are all up with do rags and shit in their little straight hair. Bien Harajuku. La Gwena even shows some respeto to Frida Kahlo in this one part with the dress and hair y todo. It’s perdy bad. She has this one shirts that has La Virgen on it that’s perdy cool pero, you have to be careful with that because your moms might not like you to be getting all sexy with La Virgen on your chess you knowz? Yeah so anyways, La Madonna better watch her back too with her little 80’s videos, because La Gwena is straight up Anaheims. Anaheims is hard core, don’t let El Mickey or La Minnie fool you foolio. Stoooopid. Homegirl La Gwena has shown her true placa on this one. Props to you Gwena. You’re my homegirl por vida. Punto.

Um. No.

2005-10-17T17:24:00.000-07:00

Ok, this is just wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My eyes are burning. Ahhhhhh! Marc Anthony obviously is slipping Jennifer drugs or something because I seriously cannot even comprehend the seriously fucked up event occurring in this photo. He looks like he is going to get grease all over her! You see how his hand is all knotted up and he is shoving her to him? It's because she's afraid he's going to hit her. She's afraid of him gente. ASUSTADA! She should be afraid. She should be afraid for herself, her future, and her womb because if she grows a little sapo Anthony baby in there it' s going to come out a salamander and turn into a little frog. A greasy little frog that can dance, but a frog none the less. Rib-bit. Ugh. I just got the chills. Gross.

Anatomy of a Gelat Sweet 16

2005-10-14T10:54:00.000-07:00

My Super Sweet Sixteen has been on my mind lately. A lot. A lot, a lot. And not in a good way. Last season it was all about Ava. Her dad “ruuuuuined her birthdayyyyy!” because he didn’t get her the Land Rover she demanded with a stomp and a pout. Hart came in a close second when his father instructed him to hire hookers off the street to populate his empty party. Insert sounds of crickets here. Then there was that girl from Roswell with the complex because people thought she was rancho and was going to only invite Mulder and Scully to her party. It was all very interesting. I watched it. I enjoyed it. I digested it….though sometimes it sat in my stomach like a rock for a while because I just couldn’t believe what my peeps were peepin’ when these little bitches were getting BMW’s at 16. I’m 29 and drive a Honda. Let’s keep it real.

But this year the tables were turned. Things changed. And you know why they changed? Because the Gelats got involved. That’s right. MTV finally decided to bring it home, show us where it all started, back to the peeps who really know how to throw a party….the parents of young latino girls.

This season we had the pleasure of meeting Lila and Janelle, Mexican and Cuban respectively. And these two little gelat princesas threw their parties in style. Let’s recap together what a real Super Sweet 16 should look like.

Anatomy of a Gelat Super Sweet 16

Your Father should be very mysterious and make ambiguous references to his work. We all know he is a drug dealer or Narco, but girl we won’t tell. Noticed how Lila lived in San Diego, very close to the border? We never saw her dad really. Her mom had very good taste and came from a wealthy family from the motherland. Wealthy Mexicans is a bit of an oxymoron on most days. But not when you are talking about wealthy Mexicans within close proximity to that big giant fence separating the United States from Mexico. For me, the private plane with the Mexican flag embossed on the side was a tell tale sign that these people don’t fuck around. Hmmm. Janelle lives in Florida. And while you might think that Florida is all about sunshine and sandy beaches. It’s also about snow, the kind that goes up your nose. Janelle’s dad kind of hung out and handed her large amounts of cash. He also had a hairy chest and rings. While not wholly incriminating, they make you wonder.

Be afraid of your moms. Be very afraid. You notice how all the other little brats on My Super Sweet 16 were all up in their mother’s grills, throwing fits and being little mocosas. Not Lila and Janelle. When they got out of line, one word from their mothers and that was it. They clammed up like little abalones. When Lila’s mom didn’t like the dress she picked out in Vegas, all she had to say was “I don like eet.” “But mammmmiiii!” “I say, I don like eet. No Lila!” Done and done. When Janelle tried to blame the hair dresser for the upsetting ponytails that her damas wore, she too gave a “But mammmmiiiii”…to which her mother replied “I don like them. They look like horses. Don’t blame the hair dresser, Janelle. Do them over. NOW!” Done and done.

You crash the party, you deal with moms. Lila’s mom had silver charms engraved in Mexico with numbers on them to denote people’s invitation to her daughter’s party. She then proceeded to stand at the door and bite every single one of them with her teeth to determine their authenticity. Ouch. Janelle’s mom told some little booty party crashers that they weren’t invited and they should leave, besides their outfits weren’t nice enough to get into the party anyway. Latino mothers have their standards!

All dancing will be choreographed. Gelats don’t like to make fools out of themselves. We all pride ourselves in our sense of rhythm. That’s why Janelle had some serious choreography going on in her quincieanera. There was a waltz, a salsa, a rumba. Those little latin hips were a shakin’. Lila’s mom hired a groupo from good old Tijuana, clad in silk lime green shirts to lead the whole party in choreographed fantastical joyousness.

Remember, this party is for your family, not you. Lila and Janelle’s parties were all about their extended families. All 100 of them. V.I.P. needs to be standing for Very Important Primos because that is who you are going to find drinking all your liquor and dancing on the tables. Your grandma may also decide to participate in the carousing after a few margaritas. Prepare yourself.

Now when I was of age and asked my mom if I was getting a quinceanera she turned to me and asked me if I wanted to go to college. I said yes. She then told me that there was no way in hell she was wasting her money on a stupid party for a fifteen year old girl. Done. End of conversation. So Lila and Janelle, I’d like to thank you for letting me live vicariously through you. I may not have a jet, my dad may not sell drugs, but I am afraid of my mom, have about a hundred primos, and dammit I can dance. So let’s see those little white girls on MTV top that bitches!

**Disclaimer: The Brown Office of Financial Aid would also like to extend it’s thanks to my mother for her checks. They’re scared of her too.**

That's right

2005-09-14T12:50:00.000-07:00

for speaking the truth. The unspeakable inaction committed by our federal government after Hurricane Katrina serves only to underline the institutionalized racism and classism that perpetuates the systems of power in this country. People keep saying we need to stop playing the blame game. Well you know what, fuckers? I'm not ready to stop playing. I'm going to keep playing. And I'm not going to stop until people start paying some fucking attention to the injustice that has occurred. The blood of American citizens is on the hands of the Bush administration and every single person who profits from this administration's policies. Until the rest of us do something, this will only be the beginning. Don't let people push this under the rug. Talk about race, talk about class, because the reason that people died was because George W. Bush and the people that work for him have allowed American citizens to parish because they didn't think that they were important enough.

Motherfuckers!

Since George is sending all of our tax money to Iraq, please consider donating to one of these organizations.

Operation Benetton

2005-08-26T15:03:00.000-07:00

Word on the street is that little orphan Zahara isn't really that! The Sun says that she has a mommy in Addis Ababa (one of the coolest cities on the Amazing Race). So did Angelina abduct poor little Zahara so that she could make her part of her Benetton Live Doll Collection? Cause that would be fuuuucked up. Is she going to be hanging out with La Lohan and Rumor Willis soon? Cause, I do think she would look good in mukluks. Maddox is probably loving every minute of this. Zahara looks utterly confused and miserable. Pobrecita. Watch out Zahara because you might be over soon. Looking like Russian is the new Ethiopian is the new Cambodian.

Round 1: Longoria

2005-08-19T16:21:00.000-07:00

Fire up the Gelat-O-Meter. What's this? Eva Longoria applying baby oil to her pompies, that's what it is. On the scale of all things old school gelat, Eva has taken the lead. Watch out Mendes because Longoria is taking the lead Bi-atch! Remember when your abuelita would get all mad at you for getting prietita during the summer? But you would slather yourself with Baby Oil and lay out in the santo sol in your front yard all damn day long, with minor breaks under the hose to cool off. Those were the days. You go, Eva. We ain't mad 'achta.

Battle of the Eva's

2005-08-19T11:25:00.000-07:00

It feels like this year was the year of the Latina. While, J.Lo was busy getting married to the little sapo, Marc Anthony and Jessica Alba was being a self hater by talking about her “dark” Mexican Father, and Salma was off directing tv movies…two little girls named Eva hit the ground running. I have to say that I was really proud of all the fierce Latinas getting exposure. I mean, come on, Elizabeth Peña can’t be the only woman representing our Latinaness forever! I decided to check out the action.

I finally relented and watched the abomination that is Hitch featuring Eva Mendes. Oh Eva, you look so cute in your Cover Girl commercials. And when you don’t speak, you pull off that mysterious latin thing so well. But then you open your mouth girl, and DAMN. SAG called and they want their equity card back, cause mija you can't act. I wonder how long it’s going to take for the heads of studios in town to figure out that while Latinos love to represent, we also recognize when one of our own has started to believe their own hype. Look at what happened to Timmy T. ¿Pues que mas quieres?

Eva Longoria on the other hand has risen from the ranks of Young and the Restless slutdom, to primetime Desperate Housewives slutdom. And while I read all the books about the Latin Spitfire too when I was in college, I have to say that Eva is doing Rita Hayworth proud, so I ain’t hatin’. Also, much love to ya, Eva, for handling the whole “we hate Latinos unless they are Jimmy Smits cause he’s only half so it’s ok” award snubs. Your time will come. Just stop dating famous people, for the love of God. Did you learn nothing from J.Lo?

So I feel like we have been presented with the two actresses, one slot conundrum. I have my popcorn with tapatio and my Fresca ready. I'm sitting on my couch and I'm waiting for the fur to fly.

She Lives!

2005-08-10T14:36:00.001-07:00

After much speculation that Marc Anthony had stolen her eggs and dumped the body, we find that J.Lo is, in fact, still alive! Having undergone Botox treatment while locked away in her Rapunzel castle in Puerto Rico, I have to say that she bares a strangely familiar resemblance to Dayanara. Hmmmm.

Photo Courtesy of Pinkisthenewblog.

Palabra De La Semana: GELAT

2005-08-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

Gelat: Expression referencing people of Latin American ancestry residing in the United States. From the English Gelatinous :Resembling gelatin; viscous. Of, relating to, or containing gelatin, Gelat serves as a cross cultural referential noun for the one thing that all Latinos have in common - their love of hair gel, dippity-do, or similar hardening hair products. Those that can rock the baby hair, pull that trensa so tight that they look chinita, or roll in a convertible without messing the stilo are particularly archetypical Gelats.

Synonyms: Hispanic (imposed by The Man) or Latino (fuck you to The Man).

Sentence: Hijole, Gelats across America are just as embarrassed of Jessica Alba as she is of herself. That Gelat is one self hater!

Fake Is the New Reality

2005-08-03T12:47:00.000-07:00

Laguna Beach you guilty little pleasure, you. I squint my eyes a little when I watch, because it makes it more real. When I see Morgan and Alex on a casual afternoon stroll at the beach, I feign surprise when they conveniently run into Jason and Talan running along the sand after a casual afternoon surf. When the kids go all the way to LA to bowl at Lucky Strike, I don’t wonder, “Who paid for their limo?". I just put it out of my mind and think, “Where is LC? Is she hurt that she wasn’t invited? Maybe she got a better invitation. Maybe she’s doing lines with Lo in her new bathroom.” When Kristen meets Stephen at Look Out Point and they have nothing to say to one another, I prefer to believe that it’s the tension of their strained relationship, rather than the fact that they have probably already had it out months ago when none of us were watching.

Why hire actors when you can get regular hotties to dish their personal dirt on national television? The kids from Laguna Beach are part of a new phenomena. Mark my words right now, fake is the new reality….and it’s so much better.

See what our friends at Gawker have to say about it HERE.

Patrick Swayze's Philosophies on Life

2005-07-11T11:37:00.000-07:00

Inspired by a heady conversation with friends about the philosophies
on life we have learned from Sir Patrick Swayze's characters in modern
American cinema, we'd like to present:

Patrick Swayze's Philosophies on Life

Ghost: When someone tries to mug you, let them. If not, you'll die and have to watch Whoopie Goldberg French kiss your fiancé.

The Outsiders: It's hard to be poor and in a gang, even if you're
white. Also, don't go near fires.

Road House: Being a bouncer is a tough job, but the only way Kelly Lynch is going to fuck you is if you have a great mullet.

Red Dawn: If the Russians come a knockin', take your friends into the forest (preferably the hot ones), name yourselves the Wolverines and
you can live off food from your daddy's feed store.

Point Break: Never trust a cop named Johnny Utah.

To Wong Foo: If you dress up in drag, Wesley Snipes will mistake you for his girlfriend and beat and sexually assault you.

Dirty Dancing: Shake your pelvis like Elvis, sleep with the summer camp guests, wear leather jackets and smoke, and don't make fun of Mr. Kellerman. Above all, "Join hands and hearts and voices; voices,hearts, and hands." And no one ever, ever, puts Baby in a corner.

Start Me Over

2005-04-25T19:00:00.000-07:00

So I just quit my job. Let me tell you everyday that I woke up in the morning as an employed person, all I could dream about was the day that I would not have to go to work and could just sit around all day. Well, the moment has passed people. I know that it is all down hill from here on out because of one evil thing that those day people don’t tell you about. Daytime TV.

Like a Meth Addict to a pipe, I’m ready for my friends to call an intervention because I am addicted to this little show called Starting Over. Oh my god, that shit is addictive. It doesn’t help that it’s on every weekday in the middle of the day so my productivity or attempt at it can start until it’s over at 1pm. And let’s not forget that I missed the first two seasons, so I am catching up on those too. God dammit, can’t I get catch a break?

Everyday my little TV sings at 12 noon on the dot with the theme song and a voice over stating ominously “Life Has Never Been This Real”. Starting Over is feel good reality. It describes itself as follows:

STARTING OVER follows a diverse and ever-changing group of women as they attempt to make extraordinary changes in their lives -- all while living together under the same roof. The women are joined by two life coaches, Rhonda and Iyanla, who will help them define their goals and outline the steps needed to achieve those goals.

But it doesn’t stop there, people. These women live in a house in the Hills. Have a personal trainer, gym equipment, a psychiatrist, and plenty of personal problems. All of this combined with a whole lot of estrogen in small spaces makes for great drama, lots of crying, fighting, hugging, and evil manipulation. And like converts at a church tent revival, we get to witness the “healing”.

Let’s take a look at some of the current and past House Guests:

Vanessa: A gymnast and Olympic hopeful who blew it at Olympic trials, Vanessa wants to redefine who she is and in the process needs to lose her crazy pushy parents and emotionally abusive boyfriend.

Bethany: A sudden amnesic, Bethany struggles to deal with what caused her [insert southern accent here] "meemree" loss and gain a better self image. When asked what one thing she remembered about her past was, she said she knew she had never been kissed. So sad.

Cassie: A recovering alcoholic, Cassie struggles to reconnect with her son much to the dismay of his crazy adoptive mother.

Rachael: After her parent’s death, Rachael was shipped off to a home for girls by her evil aunt who kept all her trust money left by her mother.

Tess: Crazy woman hating bitch stirs the pot and tells the other women to stop being such haters because she is so beautiful. Get over yourself girl.

Towanda: Toni Braxton’s sister tries to get out of the shadow of her famous sibling. Or is it all just a show to launch her own career?

Oh it’s getting me all wound up. I can’t even express how delicious it all is. And when the Life Coaches, Iyanla Vanzant and Rhonda Britten take these women out of their comfort zones there are some tears. They challenge the women with exercises like when one house guest had to carry around a suit case with items representing her baggage for a week. They share their own personal life struggles. Iyanla lost a daughter to cancer at the age of 36. Rhonda’s own father killed her mother and then himself in front of 14 year old Rhonda. Can you believe that? It’s crazy. And here they are all glassy eyed, zen and centered.

YOU KNOW YOU WANT OUR HELP!

I have a soft spot for Rhonda. She is so loving and kind. Or maybe the Botox just makes her look that way. In the end, I know it’s all bullshit, but I would like to believe that when she gently strokes Bethany’s arm after the tells her how she wants to choose a path of self forgiveness, that she really believes it. I want Rhonda to stroke my arm too. I want Rhonda to give me a hug. I want Rhonda to come to my living room and tell me it’ll be okay and drive me to the trainer and afterward we'll go get botox together at her Beverly Hills doctor's office. I want Rhonda to be my friend and that is why I have problems.

You see there are thousands of people who are devotees of Starting Over. Most of them middle aged women and gay men. The Life Coaches go on tours to cities across the country and people flock to their seminars. They sit on a stage and hash out all of their life problems in front of a few hundred people on a prefab mall stage for the one small hope that Rhonda will stroke their arm and tell them that it’s going to be okay.

The New York Times calls Starting Over the “gold standard” for reality programming. There must be something in the flash cuts or my water because I think the New York Times is right. For those of us who can’t afford real therapy or have run out of our Cobra, I just have one thing to say: Rhonda, start me over.

Drop By

2005-01-03T16:04:00.000-08:00

I’ve never understood why people in small towns just drop by. Who invited you? Why in your right mind, do you think it’s a good idea to, just see if your favorite Aunt or Uncle is at home? Would you want people to drop by your house if you were sitting in your pajamas and drinking tea before bedtime? Or worst yet, what if you were torn from the depths of a late morning sleep by the doorbell and an unapologetic smile from the person on the other side of the door who fails to notice your bedhead and laganas?

This Thanksgiving and Christmas, I was reintroduced to the personal intrusion of the drop by. Man oh man, I never really though much about people just stopping by unannounced, but the holidays can magnify rudeness like big pores on your nose. The first drop by was courtesy of my uncle at 7 o’clock in the AM. Oh yes, you read that right. 7AM. He just stops on by because, you know, most people are awake on a Saturday at 7AM. And my dad welcomes him with open arms and they have coffee and chat away the morning in the loudest voices possible so we can all share the wonderment of the ’57 Chevy repair job that they saw on Monster Garage.

The next day, my dad’s primos called at 10AM to say that they were on their way over to say hi with family visiting from Texas. They called yes, but they were already on their way with a car load of people, from Texas no less, just to say hi. Three hours, two pots of coffee, and a banana nut loaf later they left. Then the neighbor stops by to chat with my dad about his tractor. Is it working? Is the engine still freezing up? How is the disk? Who fucking cares? Leave! No one invited you over shit head! We have things to do. I had about a half a pint of nice in me and I used that up with the cousins from Texas so you are shit out of luck.

Often times the people who do the drop bys also are prone to the early morning phone call. While some consider it slightly less intrusive, I find that the piercing ring of a phone at 6am, raises my level of anger just as much as the doorbell. You don’t call people unless it is between the hours of 9am and 10pm. That is just the rule! How dare you call someone at 6am? Are you kidding me right now? And it’s not even family from different time zones who are the worst offenders. Often it is people in the same town, city, state or municipality. Do you get up at 5am and twiddle your thumbs for an hour and pace back and forth in your living room waiting for the minute hand to click click click over to the 6 and the 12 so that it’s ok to call? Because let me tell you something, it’s not ok. When you hear the groggy voice on the other end of the phone, that is when you apologize and make a mental note that the Rodriquez household doesn’t get up as early as you. Then you don’t do it again. Don’t do it again, or else I’m going to have to go to your house and rip the phone out of the wall.

My parents have also become victim of the drive thru. When people drive by your house and into the driveway to take a better look to see if you are home. They look suspicious, drive suspiciously slow, often have unidentifiable cars, and generally drive you to dive behind the sofa to hide from the proverbial doorbell ring that might come if they see you sitting in the living room in your pajamas. On the four days I was home for Thanksgiving, my parents were the victims of no less than 4 drive bys. What is wrong with you people? Do you have no manners? I am the Queen of my castle and if I could I would build a mote. Stop dropping by and do one thing for me….call between the hours of 9am and 10am and see if it would be okay if you dropped by 2 days from now to say hi and offer to bring a snack. Then maybe we can talk. Otherwise, fuck off. I’m sleeping.

Funny or Mortifiying

2004-12-13T20:07:00.000-08:00

When my mom made my family hold hands and say grace at Locanda Veneta while Ben Stiller sat one table away. Sigh.

Tivo Time

2004-09-21T15:44:00.000-07:00

It's fall and that means time for new shows and the return of old favorites. We are talking scripted television here, none of this reality nonsense. I have found that in the vast expanse of cheap thrills that we wade through in the perpetual remote flip, there are gems to be found my friends.

It is a treacherous journey that these little shows travel with sharks that we call programming executives. Those that cannibalize their own product after 3 episodes because they think that we would rather watch reruns of Amish in the City instead of something original and fresh.

Today, I am begging you to take back tv. Let’s watch television, smart television that requires thought, creativity, and speaks to our intelligence. Can’t tv be good for you? Yes it can. So in the spirit of saving quality television, here are a list of great shows you should check out this fall.

Must See New Programming
Jack & Bobby (The WB) Sundays @ 9pm
Desperate Housewives (ABC) Sundays @ 9pm
Veronica Mars (UPN) Tuesdays @ 9pm

Current Programming Not To Miss
The Gilmore Girls (WB) Tuesdays @ 8pm
Dead Like Me (Showtime) Sundays @9pm
Arrested Development (FOX) Sundays @8:30pm

Notice how all the good shows are in the same timeslot on Sunday evenings. Conspiracy, I know. Tivo your way to freedom. Make it happen and tell your friends. There are some winners out there among the Hope & Faith’s, Reba’s, and Commando Nanny’s.

I will take a moment and put a special plug in for a lovely show that is already being hard hit by the ratings. Jack & Bobby is the story of our future President and his road to the White House.

This clever and heartfelt series touches on the relationships between mothers, sons, and brothers. It is well written, thought provoking and worth another look. So give it a look and let the The WB know that they weren’t wrong in picking it up and giving it a shot. This is your chance to save quality television.

The 5th Annual Ghetto Grammys

2004-09-03T20:25:00.000-07:00

The 5th Annual Latin Grammys were on the other night. And in the tradition of my people, bad fashion choices and embarrassing comments abound. It was just like a painful family wedding but with open bar and on national television. But, as usual, it proved to be a fascinating anthropological experiment on “The Lats” and the people who love them. Those people being Budweiser and Wal Mart.

The Fabric Of Our Lives
Let’s take a moment and ask ourselves, Latino’s “Why are we so fashion challenged?” Ladies, spandex and sparkles aren’t a good thing, have never been a good thing, and will never be a good thing. Especially if you are someone’s tia and over the age of fifty. Alejandra Guzman I am talking to you. Seriously, what is up with the budget clothing choices? We have our own Grammy Awards and we have to fuck it up with shit like this? Just because your unemployed gay cousin Memo needs work doesn’t mean that you make him your stylist because you know that dress fell off a truck.

As for the vatos, Los Lonely Boys have crossed over but their hair is stuck in the 80’s. Guys, no one likes dudes with spit ends and puberty mustaches (particularly when you are 30 and not 12). Get some help, and don’t get it from Carlos Santana cause he has is own guru issues going on with those little pill box hats. Hijole brother, you need to put the pipe down.

Show Us Again How Ignorant You Are, Say It In The Microphone
So the Black Eyed Peas get on stage to tell us that we should all vote and make a difference. Then the idiots say “Hey, and maybe one day we can have a cool president who is Mex-ican just like me!” What? Are you seriously saying this right now after you just empowered us to go out and vote? You ruined it. Ruined it. No wonder Bush wants to close borders and enslave us all. Pendejos!

Watch Out Angelina, Latinos Have Their Own Ambassadors
Oh Lindsay Lohan, how we love you so. I’ve seen all of your breasts’..um..I mean…best movies and now you are an ambassador to all things Latino because you are dating child molester, Wilmer Valdarama. It brings a tear to my eye when I hear you say “Bweynos Nachos” on national television. I always knew you loved my people and now that you are boning Wilmer, we know just how much. Say it sister!

Then Jessica Simpson and little hippy Amber Tamblyn paraded out to show just how much they love our people because we brought them Baja Fresh. I hear Jessica loves their Naked Burrito. Ole!

All in all, this year’s Latin Grammys were a big yawn. George Lopez had some moments, but that wears thin after two hours of bad clothing and cringe worthy speeches. And to top it all off, Southwest Airlines was the carrier for the show. Can you imagine Shakira and Soraya fighting over seats and peanuts? Oh Latinos, when will we ever learn.

sigh.

2004-08-31T20:54:00.000-07:00

wonderfalls,
originally uploaded by alegrecita.

Confessions of a Classist Driver

2004-08-30T16:31:00.000-07:00

Driving is strategy. A game. It requires forethought, planning. One must be sleuthy and exhibit copious amounts of cunning. In my race, ne, drive to work this morning, I came to a scary conclusion about myself. I am a classist driver. Oh yes, I said it. I realized as I cursed the slow driving ’85 Toyota Corolla in front of me and swerved behind a BMW 325i that I had problems, major problems. But what is it with people in old cars? I mean I drove an ’82 Accord circa 1993 and my little wreck drove fast because I willed it to. Will people. Will. You put your fucking pedal to the metal and your car will excide your expectations.

The Gap is Not Just a Store
Just because you may be insecure, because your ride isn’t as cool as the next guy’s doesn’t mean that you don’t have to pay attention to the road. I’m the asshole on your bumper willing with bionic power for you to pay some fucking attention to the gap between you and the car in front of you. There should never be gaps in the road people. Pick up the fucking slack. If there is more than 2 car lengths between you and the car in front of you were is a problem, especially if this travisty is occurring during rush hour traffic. I just don’t understand it. How can you not pay attention? Do you not feel me breathing down your neck so that you will hurry the fuck up? When someone does it to me, I get stressed. Why are you so oblivious?

Mini Vans Are the Devil's Handy Work
The Astro Minivan. Evil incarnate. I think that when they sell you this car, Chevy fails to tell you that it doesn’t go above 5 miles an hour. Or maybe slow people are the only ones that think “Damn, I’m gonna look hot in this puppy” when they drive it off the show room floor. In any case, why is it that people in Astro Minivans are so damn clueless? Man oh man, if I’m ever stuck behind a slow moving automobile, chances are 9 out of 10, that it’s a freaking Astro Minivan with the bumper hanging off and a wire hanger for an antenna. Why can’t we just past legislation to get them off the road? Can we take away the licenses of the drivers who own them as well, to put the rest of us at ease? I know I would sleep better if there were one less Minivan on the road.

The Stuffed Animal Factor
I think my drive this morning summed up my feelings as a whole about negligent drivers. I once thought that they were just random people who roamed the earth in a fog. But now I know better. They are a type, a kind of people, a breed, a tribe. In a word, losers. They have but one little ping pong ball bouncing around in their little heeds, and that is to much for them. They are simple people, with simple thoughts like “Boy, oh boy. Wouldn’t it be so cute if I put a little stuffed animal in the back of my rear seat so that the person behind me could enjoy its cuteness too?” Well you know what? I don’t give a fuck about your distracting little animal. In fact, it’s stupid and all it does is serve to indicate that you are someone who isn’t paying attention to the road and you are too busy trying to see if I notice your little fucking stuffed animal in the back of your car. All it makes me do is think, “Dammit, another idiot with the stuffed animal, now I have to change lanes because this mother fucker isn’t going to get off their ass as soon as the light changes.” For the love of God, give it a rest. Don’t be cute, be smart. Better yourself and lose the plush.

In a recent trip to Canada, my driver pointed out to me a big sticker on the back of the car in front of us with an “N” on it. “You know what that means?” he asked me. “It means that that person is a new driver. They have to have that sticker on there for a year before they can take it off.” All I could think is that while I may think that Canadians have the most annoying accent on the planet, they sure are smarter than we are. I think a Scarlett Letter “S” for Stupid Driver would serve to open our roadways and our minds to defensive driving. Then I would know and not have to look for Astro Minivans with little stuffed animals in the back window and curse my life.