Disconnected.

I can't believe how much of an internet addict I am. I had to come to the Starbucks in Edgewater, NJ to use their wi-fi just to type up this blog entry. Granted, I have access the internet on my iPhone and I never, EVER even consider shutting my fucking iPhone off ever! And still, I'm fucking freaking out that I don't have it at home. It's not enough to just be able to check my email and update my status on Facebook. I need to be able to comment multiple friend comments while excepting friend requests, write a blog and still be able to actively participate in Cafe World, Vampire Wars, etc. OH! And the lack of porn is a motherfucker!

Granted, living in a house with three women all of sudden puts a damper on my self-love sessions. (Self-Love? I am SO coining that phrase!) By the way, did I mention that I've moved back in with my mother, sister and Goddaughter in Union City and no longer have any privacy...EVER?! If I did, I don't know how it slipped my mind.

Needless to say, I recommended to my sister that she switch from Cablevision to Verizon. To be honest, I don't know why cable even exists! Fiber optics is much faster. Incidentally, I plan on getting Halo: Reach as soon as I get an X-Box 360 so I'll be needing that boost in internet performance. (Ok! So I have a vested interest in the need for better internet! Sue me!)

I'm still trying to get the money together to accomplish all of this though. Suffice it to say, while my thoughts and needs for internet all revolve around what some might consider childish needs, I am still attempting to behave like a responsible adult. (No, really! I am!) That being said, I don't have the money for either an X-Box 360 or the new internet hook-up. Everyone is suggesting I just get the X-Box so I can at least have something to do but that isn't good enough for me. I'm such an achievement whore that I can't enjoy playing the games without knowing said achievements will be properly saved to my gamertag, but I digress.

The grown up in me is fighting the kid in me. It's a struggle but I'm taking it one day at a time just like my alcohol problem. (The problem being that I don't have enough of it in my system at any given time of the day!)

Here's hoping my birthday next week affords me the opportunity to take care of one of those problems. (Gonna be 32, by the way.)

When I Get Bored, I Get Thirsty

I had forgotten how much this little cluster of towns had to offer. Everything is so fucking close together! While that may seem like a bad thing, I think it's fucking awesome. Bergenline Avenue alone boasts a wide variety of South American cuisine. Seriously, I think every fucking country is represented. Incidentally, between that and my mother's cooking, I'm getting fat again. Correction: I'm getting FATTER again. I was already fat to begin with.

I had forgotten about the endless amount of dollar stores, mom and pop shops and bodegas, bodegas, bodegas! It's good to have options people. That's all I'm saying. However, for all of these options, there isn't a decent pub within spitting or pissing distance. Sure I can go to the Whiskey Bar, Black Bear, McSwiggins or any number of pubs in Hoboken but I must confess, I've gotten spoiled living in Little Ferry for so long. I miss having a bar that's literally right down the street. I'm not saying there aren't any around here in Union City but a majority of them aren't even pubs. OH! And some of them aren't even legitimate businesses. A tell-tale sign of that is when you're in a bar and it doesn't show up on any Google or Yelp business searches but you know for a fact it's been there over a year. Also, if there's a shitload of security for such a small space, either get the fuck out or take your chances.

Now, I know what you're thinking.

Mannix, Mannix! Why, oh why is drinking cold, draft beer at pubs your only form
of entertainment?!

The answer is simple: there aren't enough comic book stores, firing ranges, Brazilian Ju-Jitsu dojos or strip clubs around to keep my overactive attention span occupied. Ok well, actually there are but they're also ridiculously expensive either in one sitting or over time and, as much as I want to have fun, I must remember that I have to save money because I can't allow this whole "living at home" thing to become permanent, but I digress.

Actually, I don't know why I love pubs and bars so much other than the fact that I'm a tempered alcoholic. (I have to remember to coin that phrase.) However, having moved back to my old stomping grounds and having not only Hoboken but Manhatten all the more closer to me, I've been attempting to discover newer forms of entertainment. The problem is, well, I'll be damned if I know what I'm really passionate about. Let's go through the list:

• Beer
• Sex
• More Beer
• More Sex
• Comic books
• Video games
• Mixed Martial Arts
• Firearms

Hmm...maybe I should broaden my horizons before I start contemplating being passionate about something. Then again, I love doing the pub thing. Last night, in Elmwood Park, I visited my friend Jamie but as she was busy pouring drinks, I realized that I loved people watching and listening in on all manner of conversations both casual and slightly odd. I loved it.

So, while change is good and discovering new things would be a boon to my imagination, why should I stop doing what already makes me happy?

That being said, I'll see you at the pub!

Home Sweet Holy Moley!

Before I get started and go off on a tangent elaborating the title of this blog, a disclaimer is in order. Let it be known that I love my family. Be it nuclear or extended, blood is blood. Even when we argue, I know that when the shit hits the fan, I can always count on my family.

That being said, I must've been out of my mind when I decided to move back home! While it's convenient at the moment, I should've really thought out moving back home with not just my mother but my mother, sister and Goddaughter. Even if they weren't family, a single man, nay, any man, should think long and hard before moving into a house with three women. Why, you ask? If you shut up, I'll tell you. Ok. Women living together tend to drive each other bananas and if one isn't careful (And by "one" I mean "anyone with a penis who values his sanity"), one might get sucked into the maelstrom of illogical insanity that women seem to create out of nothing. Here I am, in a house with not just three women but three moms.

My mother loves having me home. Being her only son and the baby of the family to boot, I get doted on a lot. Much to the chagrin of my older sister. My sister loves that I'm home and can not only be a distraction to my mother but that I can also keep an eye on my Goddaughter. As for my "little mom," she pretty much runs my life and I think she's just happy to have me around. I missed her too so I'm just as excited to be living there for the majority of the summer. I'm having a blast so far. Oh! And did I fail to mention that I'm helping out with the rent, groceries, gas for the cars and the occasional payment of parking tickets that both my mother and sister seem to be magnets for? Hmmm...must've slipped my mind.

Anyway, I have to be careful. If I know them, they'll never kick me out and it's easy to get complacent when you have people who cook you meals and clean your clothes plus lend you their cars or give you rides everywhere. Incidentally, my mother's cooking alone has reminded me that I have to start working out even more rigorously. Add to that that my sister is always giving me a ride to wherever I need to go and I'm not burning calories anymore.

Chief among the reasons I have to leave is the fights. When women fight, they can fight! It's usually fierce and it's enough to drive one crazy. Moreover, they make a man long for the peace and sometimes quiet of a bachelor pad; a man-cave, if you will. And lest we forget, I may want to get laid sometime this year... or decade.

So, I'm definitely moving out as soon as I can. I might even start looking for an apartment soon too! Well, maybe after I get out of work, go eat breakfast and take a nap at home. Yeah! I'm definitely finding my own place...eventually. Maybe. I hope.

OMG! I Have A Goal!

I just finished reading Stephanie Meyer's Eclipse novella, "The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner." What a marvelous little story. It was an exceptional add-on to Eclipse. Both the movie and the book. (I swear to you, they are two separate entities with striking similarities.) That woman is gifted. She makes you fall in love with most, if not all, of her characters. Normally that's a good thing but in this case...well, it sucks a giant one!

Bree is a character in Eclipse. A brief one. But once you read the novella, you wish that she had a bigger role in the overall story. That's all I can say really without killing too much of the novella. Heh! Not that anyone reads this blog anyway but still, you never know. Besides, I hate being a spoiler.

I brought all of that up because that's what I'm aspiring to. Bree was a side character but Meyer breathed a whole new life into this little bit character. I can't help to say that I'm impressed with that kind of skill. I want to write but more than that, I want people to remember the characters I create. Moreover, I would hope that each character I create can be just as memorable or, at the very least, interesting. Characters like that and a good plot make for literary gold. Would I love it if I could live off of my work? Would I love to be a rags to riches story like Rowling? An instant sensation like Meyer? Immortal in the eyes of all geekdom like Tolkien? Of course! But I'll gladly settle for one person. If even one person reads one of my stories and loves it, I can die happy. Then again, a million wouldn't be bad either. However, like most writers, I do more brainstorming and less writing. Truth be told, sometimes I'm a bit apprehensive in opening up my mind to the rest of the world. I don't want to frighten anyone too much. It's the same reason I don't let anyone read my journal. One peak into my thoughts and I fear I may be expecting either an intervention or an invitation to the nearest insane asylum. Then again, fuck it! Sometimes to make it, you have to be willing to be even more bat-shit crazy than the craziest motherfucker in the room. I think I have the talent. Let's just hope it's a good read.

Listen To Me.

I don't think you heard what I said the first time around. No problem. I don't mind repeating myself for the thousandth time. Follow me around the room and try to keep up this time:

• Yes, I was looking at your girl. She's the one with the nice rack, the skin tight shirt that's accentuating said rack and those beautiful blue eyes. I noticed the eyes because she was looking at me. NEWS FLASH! People tend to do that sometimes.
• No, that doesn't mean I was trying to steal her from you so I could fuck her brains out.
• Yes, I definitely would have done that had the opportunity presented itself especially now that I know you're a douchebag!
• What am I looking at? An attitude problem. Does that answer your question? Good. Let me know if I can be of any further assistance.
• Yes. I did buy my license you stupid, old bat! But while we're on the subject, let's talk about why you're really upset. You're mad at me and my supposed lack of driving skills because I didn't leave you enough space to pass me on 45th street in Union City. However, you're bitching at me...AS YOU'RE FUCKING PASSING ME! Who's the one with problem here, toots?! Here's a clue: NOT ME!
• To all you fucks out there who want to date a great girl but are WAY too insecure to trust her not to break your heart because you're too chickenshit to trust anyone, STOP FUCKING DATING CHICKS THEN! You're only making them miserable and showing how much of a dumb fuck you are! (I'm looking at you, Mr. B.)
• Yes. "NOM-NOM" is a compliment.
• Yes, Captain Obvious. I DO know that for a quarter more I can get the large popcorn. However, are you aware that for a quarter less than that, I CAN GET THE FUCKING SIZE I ASKED FOR?!
• So what if I like The Twilight Saga and the books. I happen to like the story and it's gotten me closer to my Goddaughter and has also inspired her to read more.
• Oh! And I'm still getting more pussy than you despite me liking the Twilight books. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it!
• I TOLD YOU BRAZIL WAS GOING TO LOSE!
• Yes. I am happy about that.
• Yes I am a motherfucker! Which reminds me, tell her I said hello and to put dinner in the microwave for me. I'll be getting there late.
• I am extremely happy that you're new man is perfect. Better still, I'm ecstatic that, as your ex, I don't have to give a shit!
• For the last fucking time, no! We've never, ever, ever had sex! EVER!
• Yes. I did think about it. It comes with the penis. Sue me!
• Yes, now I'm regretting that I haven't considering that I hate being accused of something I didn't do!
• No. I'm not a hater. I just don't like the Yankees or the Lakers. Eat me!
• No. I'm not a violent person.
• Really! I'm not a violent person!
• WELL FUCK YOU IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!
• Yes. Sometimes I miss the Corps.
• Yes. I'll always love her. She'll always have a place in my heart but I am over her. Really.
• No. I sometimes don't give a fuck about my future or my career.
• Seriously, dude! Don't you think I'd be in jail or dead if I really owned a gun?!
• Hell to the no you can't trust me around your wife! Drunk or sober!
• Especially if I'm drunk!
• Especially if she's drunk and I have a pulse!
• Yes, semen washes off but if you're gonna bitch about it, why didn't you just swallow as I had initially suggested?
• No. There's nothing wrong with paying for sex. If anything, it should be sold wholesale.
• No. Weed isn't a drug. It's a plant!
• Yes. I believe in marriage.
• No. I don't think I'm ever going to get married.
• Yes. I'm a pessimist.
• No. It doesn't bother me.
• Yes. I have been homeless before.
• No. There's nothing wrong with the water in Jersey.
• Ok. I'll admit it just this once: Sometimes I do tend to have above average homicidal tendancies but I assure you, I'm keeping them in check.

And last but not least:

• Yes. I truly do believe in soul mates but I don't think that it's a guarantee that we'll all end up with them.

Hey! You asked! I'm just trying to tell you something. Are you picking up what I'm laying down? Are you smelling what I'm cooking? Are you speakin' what I'm spreckin? I'm just trying to spray some knowledge around but I don't think any of you are getting wet.

My Family Seems Familiar To Me.

I had a blast this weekend! I forgot how fun family gatherings can be. Actually, I've been thinking that this entire month. My cousin Linday celebrated her son Jayden's first birthday party in grand fashion a week back. I don't think I even had a birthday party until I was two but I digress. In typical Colombian family fashion, that party got out of hand when the salsa, merengue and cumbias started kicking off the speakers. The hall was decorated nice and the liquor and beer were almost free-flowing. I actually took a step back and saw my family and felt ashamed that I, at one time, (just before leaving the Corps) thought of never coming back to Jersey. I love them so much! I forget just how beautiful each and every single one of them are to me and how blessed I am. I know many people that don't have anyone in the world.

Fast forward to this past Saturday night. We got hammered out of our skulls and kidded around at my cousin's barbecue. Well, there really wasn't any barbecue but we were in the backyard. There was, however, ceviche and soup. Yummy! Not that we needed it. Back in the day, we all used to party because it was Tuesday. (I shit you not!) More importantly, there was a ton of beer and, even though my uncle Gene kept saying to take it easy on the Aguaardiente for fear of it running out...IT NEVER RAN THE FUCK OUT! It was like when Jesus turned water into wine or something. Then, we went to Bloomfield and Steve busted out some steaks and more beer at around 3 in the morning! It was awesome! We hadn't done that in a long time!

I took a step back there as well and realized (aside from the fact that I have a big fucking family) that I needed to spend more time with them. So, I won't balk at invitations to family gathering anymore. Well, it's not that I ever did. The problem is working at night. I think that I may actually have to get another job with better hours just so I can relish in family activities again. Either that or win the lottery or something. Family should come first, right?

Can't Wait to Finally Snap!

One day. One day I'm going to go on one hell of a killing spree. I think I should buy a gun now so as to have it at the ready. That might sound crazy but I'd rather go on a killing spree with a gun that go buck wild with my K-Bar or Buck knife. Then again, some people might actually freaking deserve it.

Case in point: That piece of shit prick that gave me an overtime parking meter ticket in West New York, NJ while my car was still running and I was in the car! You need to go, motherfucker! You need to go in a slow and agonizing way. I'm not saying I didn't merit that ticket. The meter was at zero but guess what? The motherfucking car was on and I was sitting the fuck inside it! Did I dose off? Yeah. I work nights and I was sleepy. Two points! But if you're gonna have the balls to put the ticket on my windshield with me in the car, at least have the motherfuckin' balls to knock on the window and wake me up and tell me what happened! Fucking meter maids! Fucking male meter maids too! Those motherfuckers should be packing guns themselves because people in general always want to beat down or otherwise run over a meter maid but check themselves because they're women. If that's not the case anymore, a case could be made for those "maids" to be packing heat.

While I'm on my tantrum, could the management officials in my workplace (they shall remain nameless and anonymous but you know who the fuck you are) get their collective heads out of their asses and fix at least one thing in the building. For either the sake of the tenants or the employees! Trust me! It'll work out in the end if you can, at the very least, unfuck one thing that's wrong in that building! I don't know if any of you have ever had to work inside of a sauna but that's what it feels like working in a high-rise with no air conditioning. Then you have tenants complaining to the employees (who know even less than they do at times) about the heat and lack of pool and the endless amounts of renovations, etc., and it's a miracle someone/anyone else hasn't snapped either.

I hope it's me! I hope I lose control of the little sanity I have left first! I'll release it like hounds are released after a fugitive. It'll be glorious! I already have a killing spree and path of rage set out. I won't tell any of you where. I want it to be a surprise but you'll know when it happens. It'll be on the news. Hell! I want to do such a good job that they have to activate the emergency broadcast system!

So just remember, that not only am I ready to snap, I'm not alone. We are motherfuckin' legion! Think on that! Think on that the next time you cut someone off or block an intersection because you were too fucking impatient to wait at the red light. Think on that when you don't hold the elevator for me or fuck up my coffee order. Think on that when you were a prick all throughtout dinner and ran up an $80 bill and only tipped $3. Definitely think long and hard when you're putting a ticket on the windshield of a car when all you had to do was tap on the windshield and ask for a quarter. Think and remember: We're all one bad day away from snapping and the sad part is, none of us know how close we may have already come to setting off someone else's apocalypse.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!