Thursday, December 30, 2004

Skiing (3)

In order to cover the 201.7 miles from my parking space to Winterplace, I took my newest car -I have two, an '88 Honda Accord and a '92 Nissan 240sx.

It runs great and is dangerously fast. . . and loves gasoline as much as his owner loves blonde hair girls with big boobs. That is to say a lot!

I remember that the first trip that I took when I moved to the US was to Phily to visit a friend of mine. A 9-hour drive that I undertook with my Mitsubishi Eclipse back then, and that even though that car was falling apart even before it left the assembly line, it did run great during that trip. With a full tank of gas I covered 500 miles without a problem back in those happy and innocent pre-9/11 and specially pre-Bush days.

My trip to Winterplace behind the wheel of my Nissan 240sx, wasn't as 'cheap' as I had imagined. With a 2.4L engine, DOHC and 16 valves I thought I was going to border that magic mark of 500 miles, but I didn't even got close to it.

That little red car just gargle that tank and a half that I use to stay on the left lane all the way to the mountain and back.

Skiing (2) 'Expert Skier'

I'm an expert skier and I can prove it! hell, yes I am a damn good skier and a guy with a very big heart by the way, so you girls out there listen and so help me God.

Late in the afternoon I was coming down from the very top of the mountain, balancing this well developed latin-lover body to right and left with as much grace as a model in a catwalk; people all around me were either struggling not to fall, have already fall or were heading for the bushes on both sides of compromise with a terrifying scream. I was cool and firm as a cucumber, looking as good as a man on Oakley sun glasses and rented skies can, when my opportunity to shine came!

A young kid had lost his pole following a massive fall and was trying to climb back up the slope to get it. As I was heading straight to him and the pole was right on my way I did what only an EXPERT skier can do on a blue trail: I hold my two poles with my left hand, did a move called the 'pizza slide' in order to slow down and without stopping I picked up this kid's pole with my right hand. I then kept skiing towards him and stop sideways -like an expert I have to add- inches away from him, and gave him his pole in the hand.

Man! this kid was amazed to see a guy skiing so smooth; afraid to see him dressed all in black like the death himself; proud to get the help of such a cool guy; happy when I asked him with my latino accent 'you alright dude?'; thankful when he said 'thank you!'; and full of joy when he recounted, late that night back at the lodge and in front of the fire place surrounded by his family, the story of how he got his pole back!

Am I an expert skier or what?! Some would say 'hell yes!'; some others would argue that I'm an expert Bullshiter, but that's a whole different story.

Skiing! (1)

Woohhaaaaaaaa! I LOVE snow skiing! Love it! F*ucking love it with all of my heart -just the way I used to loved her: madly, deeply, completely, restlessly, passionately, tirelessly. . . I love it -and loved her- so much that it hurts.

Yes it hurts: my legs, knees, calves, hands, arms, back, my shoulders, my upper, middle and lower butt, everything hurts! I had forgotten how physically demanding this stuff was -I do remember now.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Plans

Since Christmas day I've been planning a trip to go skiing this Thursday (tomorrow) with two friends. As they don't know how to fully use all the resources that internet has to offer to us, hommo sapiens, and they've never ski before, I've done all the researching, reading, compilation of, and preparation of a little report of all places and alternatives near Charlotte.

Using both Excel and Word, I putted together a very-easy-to-read document with prices, lists, recommendations, what to wear, what to bring, how to ski, etc. in order to hit the slopes both in style and on the cheap -I even included maps of the locations which drank a big chunk of my printer's color cartridge- so that they understood where the hell we were heading to.

Yesterday after a little meeting over lunch we decided to go to Winter Place, and we agreed on talking today (Wednesday) at around 2PM in order to go and rent all our equipment and do the necessary shopping for the trip -which by the way was in one of the lists that I did with prices and shit.

As planned I did called them around 2PM but no one answered. . . At 3:45 I called again, and no answer either. Don't ask me why but in the morning I had a strange feeling about then not going, call it my sixth sense or whatever, but I had an uneasy feeling about it. Finally one of them call me at 430PM to say that they have decided no to go after all. They said that they didn't have money, and that why not go some other day when the girlfriend of one of them could go, and also another guy and it will be a nice group and we'll have a lot of fun, and come on Jean-Francois, let's go early next year, or in 2 weeks when prices come down (yeah right, holiday and weekend prices are at the same level, so the only thing going down will be maybe the thermometer), and com'on, don't get upset, blah, blah, blah.

It obviously would have been nice to go with a group of friends, and have fun, and laugh and shit, and take pictures and make memories together, oh yeah!, no doubt about it. But the more people the more difficult it gets to put everybody in the same page; that's why I was so looking forward to this trip. And if we couldn't put everybody in the same page these days when we all are pretty much off, how about in January when reality bites back again, ah?

When I get something inside my head, and I throw all my energy into it, I really expect people to put their actions where their mouths are and follow suit. If they say "let's go!", then fucking go. If they were not able to spend a hundred bucks (that's it, only une hundred greens) to go skiing. . . that was actually the first thing that I told'em about the trip several days ago; I pointed out that it was around $150 per head, but after the research I narrowed to $100 flat -all included!. Doesn't gets better.

O well, fuck'em!

I already rented my skies, got my supplies, filled my car's tank and tomorrow at 6AM I'll be stepping on the gas until I reach exit 28 on I-77 and then the fun will begin. What I was suppose to do, just mindlessly blog tomorrow all day long?!

If you're heading tomorrow Friday for Winter Place in West Virginia, look for a red-haired Latino who's going to be hitting those double-black-diamonds as an expert and in style !!!!!!!

Clue: I'll be dressed all in black, like the death himself, with a yellow scarf.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Yes, she does

Once of the (if not the) craziest girl friends I've ever had is getting married today, in less than an hour actually. Strange feeling that when your craziest friend, the one that did all the possible crazy things in this life: all the sex, drugs, lies, robbery, stealing, smuggling, trafficking, cheating, drinking, crashing her, mine and everybody's car all fucked up and laughing together about it, is saying "Yes, I do" with a white dress and shit.

Strange feeling this one that I have today. . . are we maybe getting a bit old?

Monday, December 27, 2004

Of Red and Green

From my condo to my job there's 17 traffic lights in a 7 mile drive. Today I had to work at 11AM and of course I was late; hey! it was not my fault! When we're schedule at 6AM I always get there 10 minutes in advance at least, but schedule at 11AM?! Are you kidding me?!

Of those 17 traffic lights, eleven of'em were RED this morning. Some of them not just red, but green, and then as I approach'em, they turned red. And I'm counting as green one that when I first saw it was green, then I stepped on the gas of my 2.4 liter, DOHC, 16-valve Nissan 240SX and when I was close to it, it turned yellow and right when it turned red I sailed through at 70mph on a 25 mile zone. Fuck that bitch!

Why when you're late the traffic lights conspire to make you even more late?

The Asian Girl

The Washington Obelisk

Oh crap, what a night! I was at my pleace last night, chilling, taking it easy, when a friend of mine came with this Asian girl. She was alright, I'm not really into Asian girls but more into thin blondes with nice boobs, I'm also into girls with brown hair and those with really black hair. Blue and green eyes are at the top of my preferences, however, those brown-honey eyes with little crystals in the iris drive me fucking crazy as well. As I'm only 5'6 (yes, a dwarf) I like girls that are about my height or shorter. Curiously enough, the girlfriend that I've loved the most was taller than me, but that's a whole different story. In the meantime I don't want to stand on tip toe to kiss a girl, I prefer the other way around.

Anyway, as I was saying this friend of mine came with this Asian girl that wasn't bad at all. She had dark long hair, was thin, and had enough of everything if you know what I'm saying. OK, let me put it straight, she had nice boobs -good size, I'll say B cup- and her ass was firm and round -she had a very tinny little underwear. She had indeed, enough of everything.

A Palm Tree my friends!

I thought that she was my friend's girlfriend, but I really don't know. The thing is that while we were there, she kind of did some moves towards me; I responded by instinct with other moves towards her -checking my friend out of the corner of my eye to see if everything was OK, you know, don't want bullshit nor drama in my condo. He was very cool about it, I have to say, so cool that he even gave me green light to go as far as I wanted to go. And well, that tiny, young and not bad at all girl wanted to see the devil inside this red-haired-super-cool Latino guy, and Jean-Francois doesn't dissapoint when it comes down to showing a girl his caveman side.

Don't know when our clothes went missing and we were right there engage in all kind of mutual pleasures: she gave me "oral pleasure"; I gave her some more, and then more and a little bit more just to make sure that she knew how cool a guy I am. My friend meanwhile was just looking at us, getting turned on by the minute, and I, going like a rocket towards the sky with the Asian girl with me, ready to show her not only each and all of the stars in the whole Milky Way, but the deepest corners of the universe as well.

She liked dogy style, I knew it from the very beginning. That nice ass, those nice and round B cups, her soft skin, and well, all that skin that you have in the back and the guitar shape that a girl has when you have it in the doggy style position; I knew she liked doggy style from the very beginning. If not, after an encounter with Jean-Francois, you are going to like it, hell yes. While I was admiring her guitar shape; her back, soft and clear as porcelain to the touch, doing my thing and she doing hers. My hand grabbing her hips, pushing and pulling, rolling my hand along her back, grabbing her B cups that were hanging in a perfectly rythmic movement, front and back, her hair falling on her face, her mouth open, breathing fast and hard, I, Jean-Francois, breathing deep and pacing himself, enjoying every single second of it. My friend joined us then, and she started giving him oral pleasure, while I worked her tight and weat pu, er, well, I was right there, pulling and pushing, rythmic movements. . .

The COLLOSUS of Rhodes

I didn't even notice my friend, who was as far from me as the lenghth of a hot Asian girl, butt-naked, but don't even remember him, or his face or anything at all. I was just looking at her, feeling, smelling, and sensing the Asian girl. The world could have ended yesterday night and I would have not believe it. I was into her like a tatoo, hell, what a night!

We all finish and just threw ourselves right there, exhausted, gasping, trying to catch our breath, all sweaty, only our breathing cutting the silent in my condo. There wasn't even music; and even though the heating system was on, if it was intelligent enough it would have crank the A/C system as it was hot in there. Oh, hell, what a night; and it was just the beginning. Few minutes later Jean-Francois was like an upside-down palm tree again, ready for action, with a payroll check in his hands ready to go to the window of the bank and make a fucking big deposit, ladies and gentleman, -not as big as the first, but large enough to flod the save box, believe it.

As I said the palm tree looked more like a telephone post, unamovable by wind, rain, snow or sun. Right there, ready to go to action again. The Washington Obelisk was nothing compared to what was going on right underneath my belly. The Asian girl noticed and was both surprised and scared: hell that thing was going to bite her! and bite her big time! oh, yeah!

That Damn alarm clock!

As I was sitting with my legs half-crossed, she stood up and wanted to sit right there. She wanted to sit sideways and I almost score her "back door", but that would have hurted her, oh, yeah, she was tiny and I was bigger than the Collosus of Rhodes, my God that grilled sandwich or maybe that hot cocoa have to be included it in my diet more often, oh, hell!. I used some saliva to weat the head of that thing that was even scaring me, I have to say it here: where alse?, that thing was poised, looking for camorra and last night was either the Asian girl, or the Asian girl: who else?. With the head wet, she went down more easy, well, easier at least, and man, we headed for outer space again. Have you ever seen Sirius, the largest known star in the universe? We'll see it, believe me, and Antares as well, and just hang on tight because is going to get bumpy, very bumpy indeed it got and she didn't mind at all, she liked it, like that bumpy road, dont' you, ah? Say you like it, yeaaahhhh! you - like - it ! ! !


The alarm clock went off before I could came, and I said: "Shit, I'm already late for work!"

Anyone big on interpreting dreams? Go figure this one. Oh, yes, that was a dream.

Saturday, December 25, 2004

Merry Christmas to all my Creditors!

Very happy Xmas indeed, at least for all those who bill me on regular basis. I've just finished putting my autograph on checks for the amount of $303.35, distributed like this:

$44,95 internet;
$33.17 one of my car's taxes (I have two);
$72.83 my cars' insurance;
$52.40 energy;
and $100 for Walmart for the Minolta Maxxum 50 that I got not long ago ($86 left).

Still in the horizon though is my rent, cell phone, and of course all the shopping that I'm going to do once prices fall down as a ton of bricks on a sunny day. . .

. . . plus two trips to Winter Place in West Virginia where I'll be hitting those "double black diamonds" slopes as fast and hard as the laws of physics allow this red-haired-super-dooper-cool-Latino-guy to do it! Hell Yeaaahhhh brothers and sisters!

Friday, December 24, 2004

Merry Xmas

Earlier today I was too lazy to shower and too tired to cook, so I fixed me a grilled cheese sandwich, digged out of my (dirty) laundry bag a pair of jeans, t-shirt, underwear, socks, putted on a clean sweater, my ski jacket and hit the mall. South Park Mall, perhaps the fanciest one in the Queen City.

There was people all over the place, bags in hand, stores packed and turned into a complete mess. One of the guys in Banana Republic after seeing a pile of sweaters just gave up and threw the one he was carrying on top: "hell with the order, it's Christmas!" he said.

Even though prices were still sky high, I had the opportunity to see some items that I'm sure are gOiNg dOwN! in few days; items that this red-haired Latino is going to purchase at half their original price at least!

I've been very cool about the whole shopping thing this weeks, as a matter of fact, other than groceries I haven't bought anything yet. Every year I say that I'll do the shopping when prices come down, but I can never do that. This holiday season however, has been different: I've been strong, walking down the aisles of the shopping malls with that driven look in my eyes that only the lack of cash in my pockets and bank account could give me.

This driven honey/brown eyes have seen plenty though, and it is time to move from planning to acting, from watching to attacking, from seeing other people with bags in their hands to see me with those very same bags hanging from my hands, from seeing full prices to seeing discounts -lots of'em-, from saving to spending!

So, once all those people have depleted their own checking and saving accounts and are able to afford only ice cream or Starbucks cups of coffee while looking at the store's showcases with that longines in their eyes, Jean-Francois, me, this red-haired super cool guy will be prowling, spending, shopping and laughing up and down the malls!

He'll be seeing with that sinister and fearsome guffaw that only predators, after a long wait among the bushes, have; after salivating for hours their victim's innocent movements from the safety of their hide out, have on their faces; after carefully planning and dreaming of the moment their teeth will cut through their pray's skin and the warm blood will pour out as sign of victory.

Then, and only then, all the other animals, holding ice cream and Starbuck's cups of coffe in their hands, will suddenly turn around in fear and atonishment to watch the top predator with fire in his eyes tell each one of'em without words: you'll be next! His appetite growing, as he sees his own reflection on his pray's eyes. . . Growing appetite, as he sees that his pray is still breathing. . .

hahaha!, hahaha!, HAHAHA!, BUA!-HA!-HA!-HA ! ! ! !




Merry Christmas ya'll!

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Should I (2)

Or should I maybe drink the bottle of Bombay Saphire that I have had sitting on top of my refrigerator for the last few months? Like, drink it and blog about it. Drink and blog; blog and drink. And then once I'm all fucked up and shit, throwing up on top of keyboard, desk and carpet, unable to find restroom, just go to bed and wait for hangover to kick in.

Then, I'll blog about hangover: "An Ode to this Headache!". I could even come up with some poetry and shit about it.

Can't you tell that Jean-Francois is sleepy again for the sixth time today?

Should I (1)

I'm off tomorrow and have nothing to do. . . Should I blog about it?

Control Room

Just finished watching it. Good documentary, very slippery topic: objectivity and impartiality in the news. The backgroud of the documentary was the war in Iraq (the last one) and how the news were provided.

Being a foreigner living in America, it was very entertaining yet frustrating to see the documentary. The people from Al-Jazeera were aware of the word objectivity and how that is only a mirage, a point of view, a side of the story; they are journalists after all. The American soldiers and officers at Centcom, on the other hand were not aware of that and just repeated over and over again the same set of messages, whenever the questions came. They are not journalists and their source is the government -not the street-, so their knowledge was very limited, having to balance it with slogans.

By living in America I know what everybody wants to ask: who's right? Certainly not George W. Bush when he said that there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, we all know that. But when it comes down to reporting and to this documentary in particular, I'll say that it shows both sides of the same coin. On one hand you have all the news channels in the US, with American journalists reporting on a war that their own country -and their fellow Americans from down the street- are fighting. How objective can they be? They are not even willing to show images of dead American soldiers, a rare case of self-censure; but happily showed dead soldiers from the other side. Normal I have to say, war in America is always "right", and dead doesn't fit into the equation.

Al-Jazeera on the other hand wanted to show not so much the progress of the American military (fishing in a bucket), but wanted to show what the cost of the war for the very same people that it's been "liberated" was. They showed how intelligent bombs that are said to be able to go into a smokestack went astray landing right in the living room of a regular house. They showed how airplanes and soldiers shooted to whatever was moving, scoring people that otherwise would have came back home with a grocery bag -and scored an Al-Jazeera journalist, what a coincidence. They showed what war is: dead, blood, tears, lies, destruction. The face of the war of "heroism" and happy-ending stories is well done in the American media; but how about the people that is on the other side of the bigger gun. How do they live? What do they think? Are they enjoying it?

So, who's right? Two sides of the same coin. American media watches the missiles being launch and the big explosions. Al-Jazeera goes there and checks out where those bombs have landed. Who's right? Who's more right?

A very slippery slope indeed.

Cans of Beans

Yesterday I went to the grocery store to buy some coffee; end up buying coffee, milk and two cans of "Southern Pork'n Beans with Tomato Sauce" -two for the price of one.

Yesterday night I ate one can; I'm now waiting for the second one to cool down so that I can make her mine and eat her.

With or without'em, tomorrow will be another day anyways.

Hibernate

I've became a bear. . . a red-haired bear. During winters, bears will crawl down into a cave and sleep for the rest of the season. While it's cold and miserable outside, the cave will be a bit warmer, dry, covered with snores and away from two leg hommo-sapiens carrying guns and coolers filled up with beer.

The last couple days I've been leaving like a bear: wake up and go to work for few hours, then come back home and take a siesta on the couch that usually lasts for the rest of the afternoon; wake up amidst darkness and confusion and start blogging even before my brain has fully waken up. I'll then eat, watch TV, er, I mean whatever show/movie/documentary that I've downloaded from the internet and finally I'll go to bed.

After all that sleeping you'll think that I wake up in the mornings even before the alarm clock goes off full of energy. Think again. I've been late all these days to work. I'll like to say that tomorrow I'll on time, but I'm off. So I guess I'll just shut myself down tomorrow and sleep until hunger wakes me up.

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Anybody out there working in the political science/international relations field? Perhaps with links to teaching?

Hey, just wondering. I want to take my career towards that direction.

Handkerchief (2)

I found it. It was just a matter of fully wake up before blogging about it. Curious, isn't it? I was able to connect to the internet, log in to blogger and write a post, but wasn't able to find a white handkerchief full of bugers, sitting on the floor next to some white paper sheets.

Handkerchief

I swear I had a handkerchief that I used to blow my nose maybe 37 times today. I've just waken up from a 3-hour siesta and I can't find it. I mean, I blow my nose before lying on the coach for 10 minutes -3 hours ago, and now I can't find it.

Should I use toilet paper, or wait until I find it to blow my nose?

Monday, December 20, 2004

Pitonisa

I grew up in South America, in one of the wildest countries down there. I was born and grew up down there, so a big chunk of me is a Latino. A red haired Latino, cool and sweet as hell. But more about me at some other time.

Fortune Tellers over there are as common as sweet ice tea in North Carolina. They will read your palm, tobacco, tea leaves, cards and whatever the fuck they find suitable to get some cash out of you. I myself have been twice to this people, and I've known of my Mom and both sisters of going a couple times. Some of these fortune tellers are as full of shit as a carnival restroom at the end of the day, and some others have brown eyes -the color of healthy shit- due to the amount of bullshit that comes out of their mouths and their credible eyes. The rest will just tell you pretty standard stuff that eventually will be right due to life's odds: you'll get some money soon; you'll take a short trip in the near future; you're going to meet someone that blah blah blah; Someone you know will pass away; do you know Jose, Julio, Maria or Antonio? you'll meet them soon.

But sometimes you'll stumble into someone who somehow plays all the right tunes. In this case, my sister did and the Fortune Teller, or "Pitonisa" as they are refer to, spoke a lot about me. Yes me, your Jean-Francois who blogs every now and then about this and that. According to my sister, half the conversation was this woman talking about me out of the blue, and not much about my sister -she was kind of pist when she called to tell me: "I went there and she spoke only of you... next time I'll make you pay!".

This woman didn't know my sister, nor me. Didn't use any cards or tobacco or any of that, she just started talking and talking. And Jean-Francois' life came out early in the conversation and stayed there. She very much described me, what's going on with me, and how this year had been to me. Surprisingly enough, she repeated pretty much what another pitonisa said to my younger sister a couple years ago (I know what you're thinking right now, a family of crazy people going to fortune tellers. I'll just say that it is part of the culture where I grew up in, and just as my red hair is part of who I am without defining me, the same can be said of the whole pitonisa stuff).

I've thinking about what this woman said, trying to put it together with what I have in my fucked-up head, to see if I can get an answer to my questions, some direction for where I'm heading to, and how I want to get there.

And I don't know.

I know what I want, but just don't know how to get there (hey, that sounded very clever). I've been doing a lot of thinking but. . . the answers are not coming. Time is passing by and the more time it elapses, the harder the decisions will be.

What the pitonisa said is not definitive nor crystal clear, yet interesting. At the end I believe that I'll have to make my own decisions, pave my own road ahead, or carve my own stone grave. No matter how much the future is predicted, it lies ultimately on our own hands.

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Words of Wisdom

You can take the trash out of the garbage, but not the garbage out of the trash.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Say, er, What?!

I can't believe this shit. It took me fucking 10 days to download my favorite movie ever from the wonderful world of the internet in two separate files (700+MB each) and when I open it up, guess what!?

The whole God Damn movie is in fucking German!

Why me? Why today? Why fucking German! Why do I still have this fucking cold! Why Jenna doesn't fucking want me! Why my new car is overheating! Buaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

This is the type of days when I could really use some nice prescription drugs to lift me up! I'm sick of over the counter cold medicines! How about some under/through/beside the counter?!

Jean-Francois has left the room.

Departure

Today my friend Yujiro is leaving the US, going back to Japan. Life as a foreigner in a foreign land, surrounded by foreigners, is always a game of arriving and leaving. Of welcomes, but most often of farewells.

I don't know to how many friends I have had to say bye-bye throught my life as a foreigner in Asia and North America. Some of them I've never seen again; some perhaps, I'll never see in the rest of my life. Would I ever see my friend Yujiro again? Only time knows.

One thing that is sure is that I'll be contacting his friend Holly. . . and I'm just going to write it in capital letters: HOLLY!

Sayonara my good friend Yujiro and the best luck for you!

(New) Car

I have a new car. . . Well, it's my friend's Yujiro's Nissan 240s 2.4L, that I got for $500. It was very nice of him to sell it to me for such a low price; and it runs great!

What I'm planning to do is sell my car (Honda Accord '88) and the Nissan and get me a "good" car; one that takes me from point A to point B in STYLE baby!

Why?!

Why do all the stupid things that I say, sound like the stupid things I said before?

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Sick

I've been sick for the last 2 weeks or so. I can't even remember how does it feel not to have to blow your nose 300 times a day, or caugh some more. How do I act when I'm not on drugs (legal and over the counter in this case). How do I function without having to take cold medicine from down to dusk? Did I ever slept butt-naked on my bed (alone) and not with 3 sweaters and 4 blankets?

One out of two: or I get fucking better soon or, er, hummm, let's see. Or I get better soon or . . . or I'll have to do what I use to do in college. I'll not take my medicines for 1 day and that night I'll go drinking like if it was the end of the world and the next day I'll wake up wishing to be dead due to the hang over but cold-free. It did work back then, but now that I'm not 21 anymore and have to pay my own bills, I'm not quite sure what the results would be.

I'm going to stick to the Natural Citrus Flavor of non-drowsyTerraflu until Sunday, and if things don't improve I'll empty that light blue bottle of Bombay Sapphire all by fucking myself!

Sunday, December 12, 2004

Match.com (5)

Later today I'm going to meet with another of my contacts in Match.com. We've spoken on the phone a few times and she sounds like a nice girl, plus she looks nice on her pictures.

We're going to have a cup of coffee and chat for a while. I really don't think there's going to be sex today, as she has to see her parents later today. But wait: how about the restrooms at the coffee shop?

I'll say this though: if that happens, I'll drive straight to the border with South Carolina and will get me the winner lottery ticket, as the odds of both events happening to me are pretty much the same!

Friday, December 10, 2004

"Break-Up" (?!) - Match.com (4)

Now, I do need a comment for this post. Whoever stumbles upon this corner of the internet, please, tell what you think.

Listen up: I joined match.com and contacted a girl. We exchange e-mails like for 1 month (my mom was here visiting me and I was VERY busy those days). Finally one day we went to have some coffee and you can read a post about it here. In short, we talked, and that was it. Not much chemistry, but a nice chat anyway. After that we exchange a couple more e-mails and then I didn't contact her anymore. Around 2 weeks passed and she sent me this e-mail:

Hello Jean-Francois,
Haven't heard from you in a while - just wanted to say hi. I hope you are doing well.
Well, I guess we two would not work out as a couple. But I am always looking for new friends. So if you are interested in a friendship don't hesitate to get in touch with me again.
Bye


A straight shooter, no doubt about it. To be honest with you, I felt like a breakup the first time I read it. Got pist off at the beginning, but then (and throughout the day) I've been laughing about it. Don't really know what to think. I reply to her the following:

Hey,
I'm sorry I've been "off the radar" these days. I completely agree with you, at this point I also don't see us a couple. I do believe relationships of any kind don't come in a "ready to use" package, but have to be built little by little. Curiously enough, and now that I think about it, those relationships that I enjoyed the most and in which I felt "head over feet" were with girls with whom I was "just friends" at the beginning. This life sometimes turns -and flip us over- in ways that we never thought possible.
Anyway, don't want to get too philosophical in an e-mail. You're a nice girl indeed and it will be nice to hang out with you everynow and then. Once again, sorry I was lost for so many days.
My cell is 000-000-000, maybe we can get together before you go on vacations.
c-u, Jean-Francois


I really don't know what to make out of this. And believe me, our conversation was very shallow, about our likes and dislikes, jobs, favorite colors and that shit. The e-mail really caught me by surprise. Don't really know what to make out of that.

What do you people out there think?

No More Bullets nor Bullshit

I am going to find me new friends! Those that I have -er, well, the one that I have- is fucking good for giving me just fucking headaches.

Today December 10th, 8:30AM I took the decision. Gonna stop taking bullets and bullshit from her (yeah, it's a girl, but believe me, there's nothing there) and just going to expand my horizons.

Just to remind myself: got an e-mail from a girl from Match.com who "broke up" with me. Later today I'll write a post about it.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

High and Up

After a couple weeks when my internet connection was very-very slow, now that shit is going full speed. I am just surprised how fast it is, I've been downloading all kind of crap and the chart that shows the downloading speed has been going through the roof (literally, the graphic is blank, as the speed is so great that is out of the chart) for the last couple days, plus web pages load in a blink of an eye.

I have to say it, my connection is booming, is like a Ferrari Enzo on steroids. The thing is that, and I don't want to water down the party, the economic theory says that for every boom there comes a bust, after a period of high growth and a relax on projections of risks and income and alike, a downturn always shows up to turn on the lights on the party and to turn off the music.

I'm afraid that it will eventually happen to my kick-ass connection, forcing me to spend 30-plus minutes on the phone with Time Warner, and then arguing with those incompetents contractors that you're suppose to wait from 8AM to 9PM.

The higher it goes, the harder it comes down. Should my laptop avoid the law of gravity and the economic law of economic cycles? Only time knows -no, not fucking confuse "time" with Time Warner.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

11:11

11:11

When I look at the clock I always catch this number. Morning or night; drunk, high or cool as a cucumber; in love or broken hearted; when I'm swimming in red ink or right after I get my paycheck; in America or abroad; winter, summer, fall or spring; alone or with someone.

11:11

What the hell?!

Do Not People

Do not, I repeat, do not have the entire fucking season of your favorite show (Nip Tuck in my case) sitting beside you. Or you'll go through half in one night.

I'm going to play one more episode tonight but that's it; got shit to do and have to strech it out a little bit until my other downloads are complete. Speaking of which, I better ask for some days off at the office in order to catch up with all the shit that is pouring into my laptop.

No more blogging tonight, got shit to watch. Nip Tuck Rocks!

KB and GB

As I said previously on this very same pages, I do like to share; and as a matter of fact I share! Other people share with me and I share with them. There's not a conditional relationship between us: I give you if you give me. I just share with them and they share with me.

The thing is that if you like to share as much as I do, then you shouldn't follow on my footsteps and buy a laptop with a hardrive of 40GB. You cannot store shit there! For the last hour or so I've been burning into several CD's my whole Nip/Tuck collection because there's just no more room to store anything. Hell man! Not to mention that I got rid of all my porn clips several months ago and also got rid of some of those crazy videos of US forces and Iraqis bombing each other that some of friends sent me about the war in Iraq.

Besides, and as far as I know, the greater the capacity in your hardrive, the faster that shit operates. For all of you computer experts I have to say it: I don't know shit about computers. My theory though, is that the faster the hardrive operates, the better -and faster- the computer games will run, making easier to shot and kill all those crazy aliens in Doom. I, on the other hand, long time ago deleted my games due to the speed needed to move the mouse, aim and shot to kill.

Ever since I've become, one of NC's most respectable foreigners.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Share

All my life my parents, teachers, professors, grandparents, uncles, aunts and in general every single person in my extended family older than me told me the same: you have to learn how to share, and share.

I then grew up trying to put it into practice: I shared my lunch with some of my friends; shared my weekly money with the thugs of my school; shared my t-shirts and shoes with my friends; I shared with my sisters the car while we were living at home; shared some of my weed with some of my dope-head acquitances; share my alcohol with my drunk friends; share my love with girlfriends, lovers and alike; needless to say share my bed with countless girls in all type of different positions and levels of drunkenness; and of course while growing up in the 80's and 90's I shared my music -acetates and cassettes- with my friends back then.

Today and thanks to advances in technology, I have the opportunity to share with the whole world whatever I have that they want. Here, sitting in my room in front of my computer I can share with people that don't know me and that maybe will never met of this red-haired foreigner living in South Eastern United States.

Sharing: the highest privilege of them all.

So, why not share over the internet your music, videos, movies, writings and pictures? Why so many lawsuits for applying what we have always been told: share!

Truth Will Set You Free

The only truth is the one that will set you free.

. . . or will set free both you and your partner in crime.

She Doesn't Know Me

Sunday night I worked bartending for a friend's catering business. It was a small party of around 60 people (all well into their 60's) and I was surprise how much they drank. Com'on people, it was Sunday night, meaning that after all those Gin Tonics, screwdrivers, Bourbon on the Rocks, Jack'n Coke, and endless glasses of wine you'll have to wake up the next day and head to the office. But, now that I think about it, all of'em looked and acted like if they owned their own companies, or were very high in the corporate chart to give a fuck about it.

Anyhow, after mixing drinks and pouring countless glasses of wine at around 9:30PM, dinner time came for the hard working bartender (me!). One of the sweet ladies working in the buffet fixed me a plate and told me "I don't know what you like, so I just put a little bit of everything. If you don't like something, just don't eat it".

I told my friend what she said adding that "she doesn't know me, nor my appetite, does she?". Man we laughed like crazy, and when we told her she just bursted in laughs.

"I'll take good care of you next time, Jean-Francois", was her comment while I deeped my right hand to get some mini-meatballs while holding a mini-turkey sandwich with plenty of spicy mustard in my left one. I smiled back at her and didn't say a word.

Is not very polite to talk when your mouth is full with a big-O-fat crab cake, isn't it?

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Ed-Ex (1)

What's more important: education or experience?

Please note: what is MORE important; both are, yes, but wich one is more important.

Of Naps and Food

Today was my day off, but being the nice guy that I am I went to help a good friend of mine who is opening a restaurant. Today there was a visit of some "people that know people" and that may help them with the final boost for their restaurant. They were suppose to go and see the place and have some "finger food" -like a little sandwich or small shit like that. Instead there was a nice buffet (rice, veggies, chicken and pork), tables with white linen, pre-set salad, ice tea, coffee and peach cobbler for dessert.

The main course of course was this red-haired foreigner treating them like fucking royalty; picking up their dirty plates, smiling up and down in my tie, and pouring coffee at the end.

There was no payment -at least in cash. When everybody left we hit the buffet and I apply the good old "no mercy". I went twice through the buffet with a "whole 9 yards" plate each time; for dessert I have a huge plate of peach cobbler, and just to make sure that everybody knew I can eat, I had 4 pieces of bread with plenty of butter. Ate like a king, my friends, and all that without a single glass of water -hunger is a tough shit to put up with.

At the end I took home with me two whole containers with chicken, pork and veggies that took over all my plastic containers and filled my freezer like never before.

The thing is that when I came back home I was so tired that I lie on my bed and... woke up two hours later at around 8PM. Now, at midnight I'm completely awake! And there's no one around to share all this energy with!

I know what I'm going to do: I'm gona go through half the food I brought home, so that I can use some energy digesting it and therefore I'll fall sleep. Am I clever or what?!