Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Sell A Cookie, Go to Jail - article 7
Well, all I can say is…It’s about time. There has been such a focus on teacher layoffs, illiteracy and classroom overcrowding; that bake sales have been put on the back burner. Those homemade brownies and cookies, be they from scratch or a box, are straight from the devil. And don’t even get me started about Girl Scout cookies, specifically Thin Mints.
It’s good to know the federal government has decided to step in and regulate what we can and cannot eat and they’re starting from the ground up; first the kids and next it’ll be us grown people.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
DEATH BY PC - article 6
In October of 2010, Juan Williams, a news analyst for NPR radio for 10 years, was fired. He was being interviewed by Bill O’Reilly, who coincidentally had his own kerfuffle on The View days earlier, causing Whoopi Goldberg and Joy Behar to walk out on the interview. O’Reilly was making a point about Muslims being behind the 9/11 attacks (ok, so…) and apparently he forgot to qualify the word Muslim, with the word extremist. Shortly after the incident on The View, Juan was on Bills’ show on Fox News Network and is quoted as saying the following:
"Look, Bill, I'm not a bigot. You know the kind of books I've written about the civil rights movement in this country. But when I get on the plane, I got to tell you, if I see people who are in Muslim garb and I think, you know, they are identifying themselves first and foremost as Muslims, I get worried. I get nervous."
Really? Really? I must be missing something but did we become so pc? (politically correct)
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
AND SO IT BEGINS - TWWW part 7
They came first for the Communists,and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.Then they came for the trade unionists,and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.Then they came for the Jews,and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.Then they came for meand by that time no one was left to speak up.
Believed to be quoted from by Pastor Martin Niemoeller
Morris sat in the waiting room. They were going to fly Stacey back for cremation. He was making the necessary phone calls. He found it curious how quickly things came together. The cremation would be the next morning. The service would take place the coming up Sunday. He was looking for numbers in his phone; did he tell the people he needed to about the service? Then his phone rang, Lance was calling again.
“Yes Lance.”
“I’m sorry Morris. I heard.”
(How’d the hell did you hear so fast) “Thanks.”
“So when you heading back?”
“I fly in this afternoon.”
“Can you come into my office tomorrow?”
“Lance I’ve had a really crappy day. I didn’t think I’d formally needed to ask for a few days off for bereavement.”
“You don’t,” Lance quickly answered, “It’s just for some paperwork. Of course I expect you to take time off.”
“Do you have any information on Walt? When I left he was in a pretty bad st…”
“He’s…huh, Walt passed away. He had bone cancer Morris; inoperable. It was just a matter of time.”
Morris thought, funny how Walt worked in a state of the art medical facility yet he couldn’t get any treatment for himself. No wonder he wanted to stick it to them in the end.
“Morris can you come in tomorrow around noon…Morris…Morris?”
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
SUGAR; the lonely woman's crack - Article 5
It was one Sunday at midnight, so maybe it was Monday. The monkey was on my back and had been talking to me all night. I gave in. “What is open at this time”, I thought to myself. I got in my car and drove to an AM/PM mini market and gas station combination. I knew for a fact, they had the ice cream bar I was craving; chocolate on the outside, chocolate on the inside – I do not play.
It was a quick trip, in and out. I changed out of my house cloths and into my pajama’s, which I must admit there is little difference, and sat down to enjoy my treat.
As soon as I opened the box, I noticed a problem. Apparently, at some point the ice cream bar had melted completely and then froze again. It was a square frozen milky mess. The stick, the bar was to be held by, was completely enveloped in hodge podge of frozen brown stuff. I should have thrown the bar away. Instead I got a spoon, scraped away the frost-bite and dug in. My stomach began to gurgle and hum. I was assuming the bar had only melted and re-froze once. My taste buds told me I might be wrong. “What is this waxy film in my mouth?
Saturday, October 9, 2010
HUSTLER FO REAL - Article 4
I am constantly amazed by the hustlers of the world. While my honest career efforts have been met with a sea of no’s and mocking, there is a population of people who by hook or by crook take the world by the balls. Hustler’s of the world stand up and take your places. I’m talking about the people who walk to the front of a long line saying, “You don’t mind do you? I just have one quick question.”
A hustler uses what they have. I have lived in my building for almost 3 years. My neighbor, lets call her Mary who has never asked my name, yet has asked me for the most ridiculous things like; telling me to decorate her windows by greeting me with a strings of Christmas lights and a chair with which to assist me in scaling the walls. She has asked me if I wanted to rent her cell phone for 3 months while she was out of the country. After only 2 weeks of living in the building, she asked for my work hours so I could take her to the airport as needed. She has an accent which fluctuates on thickness depending on her need. One day she came to me, with yet another ridiculous request. She was using the thicker accent on this day so she was barely understandable. She was talking really fast and my attempts to slow her down were ignored.
This is ‘the devil is in the details’ portion of the game. The idea is to move you so fast through something you say yes, without really understanding what you’re saying yes to. I told her “no, she was asking too much of me.” .She kept saying, “I don’t understand…I don’t understand”. I said, “Yes you do. You just don’t like what I’m saying.” It was like the wind got sucked out of her lungs. She threw her hands up and walked in her apartment. For the record, Mary has never approached me like that again. She did understand. Mary uses her age and her accent; positioning herself to seem helpless. Mary may be a lot of things, helpless is not one of them.
Monday, September 27, 2010
BLOOD IN, BLOOD OUT - TWWW part 6
Xavier never liked being driven around. He liked being at the helm plus he never really trusted anyone. He no longer had a choice. A driver came and picked him up in the morning and took him home after training was done. A small black sedan, blacked out windows and door locks controlled from the front seat. Divider glass separated him from the driver, who was never very talkative. One day he went to a warehouse where he was instructed how to build a gun and how to take one apart from a man whose arms were bigger than most women’s hips. They couldn’t rest at his sides; they simply suspended themselves midway in the air. Xavier wondered how his big fingers could handle the intricate mechanisms of a gun.
On this day Xavier was led into an empty office. Aside from the fluorescents above, the only light came from a small window which offered a lovely view of a brick wall. The room had the bare minimum; a desk, a chair and a phone. The attending agent gave him a pen and a notepad with a list of names and numbers. Over the past two weeks since he joined the agency, aside from his driver, everyone was a new face. This agent didn’t give his name, most of them didn’t. He had a wedding band on, he was asian and middle-aged. His deep voice suggested he should have been working in voice-over’s rather then working for them. He told Xavier he would be his instruction for the next week – vocal coaching. “You have no Mexican accent. I’m going to teach you how to get it back along with a few other dialects. With your coloring you can pass for a couple of nationalities. But first you have to make a few calls. You are to tell them to meet you at the date, time and place listed on page 1. Get as many as you can to show up. Call extension 19 if you have any questions. There’s a bathroom behind the door on your left and don’t leave this room. Understand?”
“Yes. Hey, am I going to see agent Romulus…”
“Yes, later.”
The man walked out. Xavier recognized all the names on the list. He let out a deep sigh. This was the beginning of his initiation. There were their names and numbers along with the names and numbers of family, girlfriends, wives…anyone and everyone they may or may not remotely speak to on a regular basis. He made his first call.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
ALMOST LIKE NEW, BUT NOT QUITE - article 3
1. You’re being obedient to our Heavenly Father.
2. No STD’s (but not necessarily if you’re doing everything but…)
3. Avoiding bitterness
4. It makes you smarter (It’s a proven fact that keeping your legs closed keeps your eyes and ears open – therefore your idiot radar stays intact.
5. You have more time for hobbies.
6. You have closer friendships – because you’re not relying on some fool that’s never gonna be right anyway cause he’s a selfish, self-serving… (see #3)
7. You maintain a good sense of self worth.
8. Your credit score stays higher.
9. (@ youngsters and 30 year old guys staying in mom and dad’s basement. No I am not judging you) You have better relationships with your parents because you’re not always lying about where you’ve been and who you were with and why you don’t have the same cloths on you were wearing when you left this morning.
10. You avoid that deep gapping hole, you try to fill with food or more sex, which comes from giving yourself away to some moron that wouldn’t know a treasure even if someone smacked him across the face with gold deblumes. (see #3)
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
ARE YOU A TEAM PLAYER ?- TWWW part 5
seven that are detestable to him:
haughty eyes,a lying tongue,
hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes,
feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies
and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers.
Taken from Proverbs 6:16-19 (New International Version)
Xavier woke up in a small room. One interior window with smoked glass, probably 2-way he guessed. His first view was of the glazed concrete floor. The slight hum must have been the air conditioner. He looked up at the vents on each wall near the ceiling. There were two men standing in front of him, he himself was sitting, unrestrained, in the only chair. One man he recognized, he was the one who shot Raymond. The other was a white guy. Xavier noticed they both had dark suits on, the good kind; specifically tailored for each body. There was no way the black guy could buy anything off the rack. His jacket fit perfectly, from neck to shoulder and from shoulder the wrist. Xavier looked behind him, there was the door.
“I want to talk to my lawyer,” Xavier said. “Shut up”, the white guy replied. “I’m agent Percy Grimm and this is agent Romulus Perry. Xavier laughed, “Man…you serious? Agents Percy Grimm and Romulus Perry. That’s funny.”
“Our names are funny to you?” Romulus asked.
“Aren’t they funny to you?” Xavier answered still laughing. “So which of you is the good cop and which is the bad cop.
“What do you think?” Percy asked.
“Well, I’d say the brother is the bad guy, but that would be stereotypical”.
“Actually, we’re both the bad guy,” Percy said.
“I guess I'm screwed then right?. So when do I get my phone call?”
Romulus turned his back to say something to Percy. Xavier saw this has his chance, he was closest to the door; Romulus was like a tower, don’t try to fight with him, just knock him out with the chair. The supercuts salt and pepper guy was smaller, Xavier knew he could take him easy. They probably had guns in their waistband, maybe one at the ankle, but it takes a few seconds to get to that. The brotha’s a tall guy; it’ll take him a while to bend down to get his gun. ‘I can do this,’ he said pumping himself up. Xavier raised the chair over his head. Percy didn’t blink an eye. He spoke over his shoulder toward whoever was hiding behind the 2-way glass, “Now.”
Sunday, August 29, 2010
PINK IS THE NEW BLACK - article #2
It turns out the ladies and I were going to the same exhibit. As I walked behind them, I noticed all the male attention they were getting. The men stopped in mid-stroll and said ‘hello’ as the ladies walked toward them, as opposed to after they had passed. Of course, there were the expected lingering glances to the ladies behinds. It must be nice I thought to myself. Please note; no attention was paid to my behind.
The cashier neglected to mention the stairs reached into the heavens. I stopped at the bottom of the 2+ story staircase. I looked up and contemplated if I really wanted to see this exhibit. After all, the children’s museum was open and it was on the ground level. This might be good, I can finger paint. I decided to put on my big girl panties; I took a deep breath, fully realizing it could be my last, and made my first step.
The young ladies were several steps ahead of me. They were giggling. Please note; I found their joy annoying. Oh and look...we passed yet another guy, offering them a full hearted greeting. I made it midway up the staircase, I paused to catch my breath. Then I saw what all the fuss was about.
Monday, August 23, 2010
DOES THIS AK GO WITH MY BROOKS BROTHER SUIT - TWWW Part 4
This was way too easy, Xavier thought. He was going back and forth across the border weekly. He usually traveled alone, but his younger cousin, Angel wanted to come along with him on a few ‘pick-ups. He was hoping to get his own route. The cartel was still in the beginning stages and doing well, but Xavier wasn’t too proud to do the work. He had been doing the pick-ups for over a year now, with no trouble. He’d drive into Mexico and pick up enough weapons to outfit a militia along with several hundred thousand dollars worth of drugs, and drive them over the border to either Texas or Los Angeles by way of San Diego. This white truck had a cornucopia of fruits and vegetables and letters spelling out, “Del Soto Farms”, on each side. Xavier pulled his class “C” license out of his wallet. There was a small line before the border patrol agents would get to them. He ran his fingers over his picture. “What’s up man?” Angel asked. Xavier held up the card to him, Marcus Delgado it read. “Who’s that?” Angel asked. “Hell if I know, but it cracks me up every time I look at it. Oh yeah, remember, while the agents are around call me Marcus.”
“What’s my name? Angel asked”
“Jose”
“Man that’s generic”
“Lesson number 1 Angel, blend. Be what they want you to be…what they think you should be.”
There was one more car ahead of them. Xavier glanced down and noticed Angel’s open duffle bag sitting between them on the seat. It was filled with his clothes, a pair of tennis shoes and a handgun with a bag of marijuana resting on top.
“Angel are you stupid?” Xavier shifted his eyes down towards the bag.
The car ahead of them was driving off. “Don’t do anything sudden, just act regular…and smile.” One agent was sitting in the booth while the other was standing outside with his clipboard and pen in his hands and a gun in his holster. Angel casually brought the bag closer to his body and leaned on it as if it was an arm rest.
“Anything to claim?” the agent asked. Angel kept trying to pull the sides of the duffle bag together and discreetly move the gun which was digging into his forearm.
“No sir,” Xavier answered.
“What’s your business?”
“Truck driver. I’m bringing produce to some markets into San Diego and Los Angeles.”
“Yeah, I think I recognize the truck. You usually travel alone right?” the agent said looking over at Angel, who was doing his best to look relaxed.
“Yes. I’m training him.”
“Let me see your id and your paperwork.” Xavier handed it to him.
“Ahh yes, Marcus, I do remember you”
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT - TWWW PART 3
and I’m here to help”. – Ronald Reagan
Trouble tends to come when you think you’re almost done. He was 3rd from the last in line. A young man; 18 years old and very handsome. He had dark hair filled with freshly shorn curls and piercing brown eyes. Stacey looked back at stationary Charlie; “73624”. He repeated, “73624, Xavier Dicastro”
“You’re Xavier Dicastro?” she asked while loading the needle; so consumed with what she was doing, she never looked up. “Yes”, Xavier said calmly searching his surroundings. Stacey checked the forms he handed her, asking questions which were confirmed. She reached for his right hand and he instead grabbed her. “And you are?” he said, tucking his head to catch her until she was forced to look up. “Excuse me”, she said.
“My name is Xavier Dicastro, What’s yours?” “Your english accent is perfect”, Stacey remarked. It caused her to look at him more closely. “I watch a lot of American movies, especially the gangster ones. I like this old one by Quentin Tarentino called Reservoir Dogs. Have you heard of it?” he said.
By this time bouncing Bob had the nozzle of his semi buried somewhere in Xavier’s shoulder blade. Stacey couldn’t help but think what a good call it was to have given Bouncing Bob the downer, otherwise Xavier would have been minus a left shoulder. “Stand down young man,” Bouncing Bob said with unexpected authority. ‘Young man,’ Stacey mused to herself. Bouncing Bob didn’t seem much older than Xavier.
“Yes…I’ve seen it. It’s a classic.” She lied. She hadn’t seen it. Her husband liked it. As a matter of fact, she believed it was part of the home viewing collection buried somewhere between her unopened exercise DVD’s and romantic comedy’s. The other soldiers were coming around and they too had their nozzles aimed at various places on Xavier’s body. Yet, he didn’t seem phased. His eyes never left Stacey’s and he was still holding onto her wrist. “It’s alright”, she said to the soldiers. “It’s ok,” she said this time to Xavier, “It’s just an immunization shot.” She held up the piercing gun. “See, it’s just a shot”.
“I see” he said. “It’s to protect me from any diseases I might pick up from you white people.”
“Exactly”, she answered, trying to offer up a smile.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
PUT YOUR RIGHT HAND OVER YOUR HEART - Part 2
“Can you please keep it down? These people are already scared.”
“Sorry ma’am.”
‘Ma’am’ he said. Stacey could never get use to being called ma’am. Even in his extreme excitement, the officer could sense her displeasure. He leaned over looking at her name tag. Only medical personnel and the suits had name tags.
“You’re a doctor…It says Dr. Dr. Stacey Penski. Do I call you Dr. Stacey or Dr. Penski or maybe it’s just Stacey…
Stacey interrupted him, “Just call me Dr. Penski.” Something told her he had a lot more variations to go through before he would decide to stop. She ran her hands across her face, slightly pinching her cheeks, then brushing her hair out of her eyes. Her hair showed her age more than her skin did. A once vibrant shade of red now faded to a murky shade of orange. It had also thinned quite a bit over the years. Her husband said it was part of getting older; she knew it was because of stress.
She caught Bonnie’s attention, who was on the other side of the tent, and motioned for her to come over. They often worked together on these jobs. Bonnie was younger and much smarter then her good looks and enhanced 36 DD’s led on.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
COYOTES, GUINEA PIGS AND CHARLIE - PART 1
They showed up on time as agreed; which was rare to have such integrity from coyotes. It was a little after midnight in central Mexico. The white truck looked remarkably clean considering the dusty roads it just drove across. It definitely wasn’t what the people expected to get them across the border. It was smooth and with the shine of a new white kitchen appliance, except for the painted signage on each side, “Esmeralda’s Tortilla’s – Homemade Goodness From Mexico since 1964”. Funny, none of the Mexicans waiting in the moonlight had ever heard of it. There was another thing that made the truck stand out, across the top were vents; 3 on each side. Good. At least they knew they’d be able to breathe.
There were 35 people waiting to pack in. Two men got out on the passenger side of the truck first, then the driver. Both passengers each had a semi automatics slung around their shoulders. The driver brandished only keys and a hand gun neatly stuffed in his waistband along with his stomach. “No hablen sin que alguien te direja la palabra primero.” He gave the crowd the once over to be sure all understood. The nods of acknowledgement were unanimous. There were many ways to get across the border; this was just one of them.
The sliding door on the back of the truck went up. The driver held out his hand, the people paid him and then stepped up into the truck. There were no names, no direct eye contact and only the driver was to do the talking…unless otherwise instructed.
Once on, you were to move all the way to the back of the truck. There were chains that hung from hooks in the ceiling. The passengers were suppose you use them to steady themselves while standing for however long the journey would take.
An old woman was approaching. Her son was holding her up by her waist. It was clear she could not walk herself. Each step she took was a struggle. His wife looking ragged, walked with her head hung, behind them. Each person was to hand over the money for their own passage. The old woman reached in her bra to get her money. She held out her hand until it tremored. The coyote took the money from her and but it back into her bra. “Demaciado Viejo.” (Too old) The woman began to cry to her son, her whole body shaking. “Perdon senora, pero no le puedo ayudar.” (I’m sorry Ma’ma, I can’t help you) the Coyote said with all the compassion he could pull out of himself.
The Way We Were - Synopsis
bond,to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads:
And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or
the name of the beast, or the number of his name.
Quote from REVELATION 13:16-17
Imagine your whole history; school, work, medical and buying, was on an RFID chip the size of a shard of glass. The governments own tracking device and oh what this tracking device can do.
It starts in the deserts of Mexico – a deal brokered between the Mexican and U.S. governments. The illegal immigrants are the first test subjects. The chip was praised as being convenient, not a sign of the anti-christ. While the U.S. government begins pushing through what they call simply, “the agenda”, a growing remnant of people know the truth of what is really going on.
Lynn and Barry are forced to leave their jobs and their home because they refuse to take the chip. They are beginning on a journey ending at an unexpected destination.
Carla and Melanie are two women of the same age and with the same military background. They get their first assignments on the same day, but will end up on very different paths.
Pastor Wilde preaches to his flock how silly it is to not be implanted. He insists it has nothing to do with God or the devil but he gets a rude awakening by way of a seminar taught by a con-man.
Morris worked with the FDA for over 15 years. He pushed forth programs that will ultimately kill millions – in one way or another; never realizing the new rules would also apply to him. He discovers the devil doesn’t keep his word. Agents Perry and Grimm are pulling the strings and finally…
There’s Sabah Tariq; the morning star, the light-bearer, the biggest liar of them all.
In this new world there is no rich or poor, nor black or white; you’re either chipped…or you’re not.