an empty place v3.5

Today is the pentultimate day of Thing Warehousing and they are both very excited. I let Thing Two in a secret present for Thing One's graduation from elementary school. I needed to get him involved so he wouldn't feel left out tomorrow night when M and I give it to Thing One over dinner. Its difficult having two minions with an age difference. When the older one gets more priviledges, the younger one thinks he should get them as well.

You know, when I was a kid, I got left out of a lot of stuff because I was too young and that's just the way it was. You got over it, or you didn't. Today they say that's how rapists and murderers are formed (bullshit if you ask me) and they give losers trophies for suckage. When The Things were in sports (soccar) we pulled Thing Two early because he just didn't want to participate and Thing One put 100% in to every game. So yeah, for struggling and doing his best at not falling over his big feet I wanted Thing One to have a trophy, but the other parents thought I was an ass for not wanting the other one to receive his. Fucking hell people, you cannot reward quitters!

So here I am, proud of Thing One for making it through elementary school (not a superhuman feat mind you but its a start) and wanting to promote the continuation of his education so I bought him a gift; and I didn't buy one for Thing Two. Critics will identify this as a mistake, that Thing Two's achievement is just as good and Thing One's. But I say, "Go to hell, no its not." This is a point in his life that he will never see again. A part of him was lost forever during his transition from rug rat to snot nosed brat. Poor kid is going from being the big fish back to being the little fish in a new school on the other side of town. He's growing up.

And I'm regressing. I've gone back to my roots, back to my comic books. I read Uncanny X-Men #1 this weekend. OMG!!! It was so lame. hehehe. I find Silver Age comics so difficult to read.

Every day we learn something, some days its something new, other days its a relearning of things we already knew. What I take with me tonight is something new and something old but quickly forgotten. People change and Icy Hot is a diuretic. I talked for a while this evening with "my brother of a different mother" Mike and about our crew from "the good 'ol days." There were a good bunch of us and we were always there for each other. But there was always that one guy, every group of teens had one, the Screech of the bunch. Ours just happened to look like him too. And then there was the guy at the other end, the responsible one that you just knew would go on to be something so much more with potential to spare.

Well, we all have kids now and we've all screwed up along the way in one form or another; and most of us have recovered from our mistakes. You know, people do change and in ways you'd never expect. That all-together guy with a future is, at present, a total and complete failure. Why sugar coat it? Call it like it is, he has totally screwed up his life with one bad choice after another. This is totally unexpected and absolutely predictable in every after school special. Why him? It hardly seems fair really.

Reflecting on this I lubed up my shoulder and immediately had to pee. As I type these words there is a fire growing in my pants. Yes, I washed before I water'd the lillies but still managed to get a nice coating on the ol' twig-n-berries.

Bottom line, people change and relieve yourself before applying liberal amounts of linament. Lessons learned.

You'd think being born in Cuba with my first words in Spanish, living in Miami, and taking 3 or 4 years of Spanish in High School I'd be able to speak the damn language.

¿Hola, cómo esta usted? ¿Mi llamo Juan, y tu? ¿Dónde está el cuarto de baño? Gracias por el pan, él es delicioso puede yo tener una virgen fresca, ésta está quebrado.

And that's it for my conversational Spanish. Now, I think knowing Japanese would be great for all the anime and manga I enjoy. Or Chinese to be able to read some of the manuscripts I've come across in my favorite martial art forms. But Spanish, for all practical purposes, would be the best language for me to know. But of course, I just couldn't be bothered with it. Maybe French (or are we calling it Freedom?) would be a good language to take up. I could mutter sweet romance in my love's ear while she's batting me away.

Who really cares? Well, seeing as how all the "immigrants" took Monday off, I did too. Actually, Thing Two was sick but I don't want my homies thinking I wouldn't have taken the day anyway. B-Rice was telling me that this walk out seriously hampered him, he was deeply craving some Mexican food for lunch and the local restaurant was closed. Damn good thing Taco Bell was open. You know, I can't wait till us white-folk can get up the courage to walk off our jobs.