The Government Has Failed Us; We Have Only Each Other...

consumeristic
ignorant of other's needs
you know they'd help you



Paid for by the Chulo's Thinking of Others Committee...

Pingüino

timeless tuxedo
sliding on the arctic ice
chomping on a fish

"I have often had the impression that, to penguins, man is just another penguin - different, less predictable, occasionally violent, but tolerable company when he sits still and minds his own business." ~ Bernard Stonehouse

Not Seen By Human Eyes...

what is an artist
must i be full of myself
or merely aware

These are a small collection of sketches that I had made in charcoal on a small pad during my freshman year at Ithaca. I have never shown these to anyone, nor do I claim to be skilled. I used the charcoal as a medium to remove some of the thoughts from my head and transpose them onto the paper.



























































Charcoal ain't jus for ribs no mo...

Who Is That Boy On The Hand-Out?

way back in the day
the envy of all the boys
online fixation

Once upon a time there was a far away land named High School. In this land was the beautiful football jock envied by all the boys and girls. He was tall and muscular. With sandy brown hair and blue eyes, he would wander the halls secreting lust in the air. He was hung and his dick was fat. He wasn't conceited; he was confident -- and all knew it.

In Homotopia a similar story exists... the story of The Flyer Boy. The Flyer Boy exists in the club scene. His well defined body, scandalous poses and confidence abound lures the faggots to the cities of Sodom and Gomorra to participate in their hedonistic pursuits. Of course, like any occupation, there is a shelf life. On The Flyer Boy's 26th birthday he was introduced to Flyer Boy 2.0, released of his duties and allowed to retire.

What is life like for The Flyer Boy after retirement? It's the same as before retirement. Rather than bringing hungry bottoms to the club to be fed, they line up to his website to feast on transcendental clippings of half thoughts and semi-naked images of his still well-defined body. It is here that a new battle is waged. One of competing comments of praise and adoration on the surface, but beneath it all, nothing but a sociopathic web of lies and deceit.

So many fans, so many hidden agendas. Only one circle.

All of the players know each other -- none are willing to admit their desires for The Flyer Boy. But this is Homotopia -- you know everyone wants a piece of that pie. What might have began as an innocent encounter; a sharing of a common interest, led to Chernobyl-like explosion of nuclear friendships. The Flyer Boy is strong -- keeping many at arms length -- but one resists, like an STD. He's got tight game, working thru a festering collection of sycophantic praises via email -- a reaching out for a shared meal. Seemingly benign acts in nature transformed into ultimate death and despair.

What will become of The Flyer Boy? Can he survive being consumed by a parasite? Is there enough creative integrity to recover from this attack?

Surely he's seen such advances before. Being the desire of the modern world is just a rain drop in a puddle for him. It's not The Flyer Boy who needs to worry tho, it's those on his team. All competing for the gold, but only one on this team of many may succeed in this cut-throat throat game of seduction. Each player spinning different truths to win his affection for a moment in time, that moment gone in a New York minute when the next player is up at bat.

What is the appeal of The Flyer Boy? I mean yes, he's attractive and yes, his witty commentary can be captivating at times, but is he so self-consumed that a substantial relationship with a real person would be impossible? Would his thousands of online homo-fans be a major hinderance to the relationship or simply a minor annoyance? It would be nothing compared to the already nauseating meddling of one individual who knows who he is. His information gathering far from subtle and his sense of concern clearly self-indulgent. What will become of it all?

Stay tuned for these answers and more on next episode of The Flyer Boy Chronicles...

Cumpleaños... Dominican Style...

born on an island
of platano-eating men
grows older with me

Today, in Palm Beach County, the King of Spain turned 23 years old. We had a small intimate party with family and friends in the evening that primarily consisted of dinner and cake... as well as a partial viewing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show on Encore. He had not seen it before.

For his birthday, I picked him up a cute religious Mexican birthday card with the Virgin of Guadeloupe on it, as well as a bottle of Citron Grey Goose and Grand Marnier... Cosmopolitans are his new favorite drink. Poor thing needs to learn to sip his drink, rather than chug.

Dinner consisted of home-made pizza and chicken cutlets with mashed potatoes. It was very good, but it's too bad it didn't stay inside the King of Spain for longer than an hour...

I had to work today, so I couldn't spend the entire day with him as I would have liked, but someone has got to pay my school loan, and that someone is me unfortunately. I had to get there early because they closed the Block at 7:00 pm last nite because of the hurricane and I had to make sure that everything was copesetic. Things were pretty good, except the main register didn't turn back on.

My day was littered with special guests. The loss prevention guy came in to make sure there were no "problems". Bryan, my co-worker, got nervous because at his last job, every time LP came someone got the ax. I told him Al has nothing better to do than visit us. I also met my new DL. He's really cool. I think that we're gonna get along good. He's former Military, and ya'll know how I like guns and ammo...

There's a problem tho... about halfway thru the work day, my ankle started to hurt... I'm writing this in my bed with the King of Spain draped over me, and it's still not right. I don't know what I'm going to do... Maybe it's too early for me to be on my feet like this, I mean I do stand up all day long and run around like a chicken with my head cut off. I need to find a desk job.

Thank you for calling Chulo-mundo, Could you please hold?

Chulo Throws the Best Parties!

a lot like j-Lo
your talents cease to amaze
need a fan club prez?


PHOTO COURTESY MEDINA=CITI

Can you sign my CD?

Chulo = Haiku

Sadistic Ex-Boyfriends Are the Worst...

very sad it is
when my andre starts to cry
after all he's done

we turned a blind eye
you asked us to give you space
why do you resist

please do not call him
he does not deserve this pain
let a nigga live

i will always have
a place inside my cold heart
for you, dear artist

be responsible
you are not a neutral place
blood is on your hands

stop pretending that
you have been an innocent
you can not hide it

don't misinterpret
i don't want for you to feel
that i have no fault

i own what is mine
acknowledge what fault is yours
learn and walk away

stop inflicting pain
there are more of us who care
if you did, you'd go

you do not need him
you have gone and left the roost
complete your exit


If you ever truly cared, then turn around and don't look back – there are new relationships waiting for you.

Rhetorical Questions are Such Fun!

The Question:
"A phoenix rises from the ashes, but why was it ash in the first place?"

My Answer:
you burnt your bridges
like an arsonist monkey
were you not present?

Only you can prevent forest fires...

The Trip Home from MIA

big bird in the sky
taking pictures from on high
our car is home now



Be it ever so humble... there's no place like home... with a Dominican.

Naked In the Ocean? What?

he was really cute
platano and indian
but not very bright

While I was in South Beach with the King of Spain and Hercules, I was introduced to the Porno Ecuadorian Monkey. We all met up with Little and Nesto in Twist, a relatively O.K. club in Miami. As the night went on, the Porno Ecuadorian Monkey got more and more sweaty and closer and closer to me and the King of Spain.

He removed his shirt -- I asked if the pants were next -- He said no.

Little did he know that he was lying. As the club began to grind to a halt, we all regrouped and made it outside. The plan was to go to the beach and hang out. When we arrived the plan changed slightly as the Porno Ecuadorian Monkey's cousin stripped naked and ran into the ocean. Hercules and the Porno Ecuadorian Monkey stripped down to their boxer briefs and followed after, I remained on the life guard stand with the King of Spain.

When they returned, the Porno Ecuadorian Monkey was persistent in his attempt to get me into the ocean as well. I saw this as an attempt at flirting, so I played hard to get. I finally caved and made my way into the ocean in my boxer briefs as well. When we got out to sea I tried to get the feel, but his flirting seemed to end there. There was nothing. He would swim away from me rather than towards me and kept asking me how he could get the King of Spain in the water. Dejected, I got out of the pool.

The King of Spain, playing harder to get, finally agreed to his request and he went out to sea with the Porno Ecuadorian Monkey. I had to remain on the beach, for Hercules and the cousin went back in the water as well. As I was on land things were heating up in the sea. Kisses were traded like stock between Hercules and the cousin. The Porno Ecuadorian Monkey stepped up his game and was flirting with the King of Spain, but he was not having it.

By the time everyone came out, Hercules had the cousin's boxers on and the cousin Hercules'. The Porno Ecuadorian Monkey came out with his dick slightly awake; the King of Spain was cold. I copped a feel of the Porno Ecuadorian Monkey's dick thru his boxers, I wanted to get it hard tho, but the sun was coming up and there was no time as we all had to get back to our hotels to pack and go.

I'll find you in the Bronx one of these days Porno Ecuadorian Monkey... You still owe me a drink...

Into The Dirty Dirty...

florida turnpike
and interstate ninety-five
takes us to the beach



No doubt with me driving and a Dominican as the navigator we'll be lost soon...

The Infection from the Hospital

growing inside me
like a grecian trojan horse
we gotta stop it

We went to Dr. M today. Lab results came back from the mass that was cut out of my armpit.. Come to find out, it was a staph infection that i picked up. Word on the street is this strain lives in hospitals. I wonder if that's a coincidence considering I was in a hospital a few weeks ago doing the screwy leg thing. Whatever tho, I have antibiotics to fight the growth inside my body.

Short... hopefully like the life span of the hole in my arm...

Royalty

not really from spain
yet he's royal none the less
and inside my home

The King of Spain arrived today in West Palm Beach. His anticipated visit - seven days - but we'll see about that. He was supposed to come in at 11:30, but you know how airline flights go... delayed, delayed, delayed.

I haven't seen the King of Spain since My Size Dominican-gate, and it was not good terms when we left. He was rather upset with me because of my drunken behavior and I was confused because I don't remember what had gone down. This week I'm going to make it up to him. Granted I'm recovering from my episodes, but I've been thru worse.

I dispatched Becky to get the King of Spain as I had to see Dr. M today for post-op follow up. All I know is I have mad pain killers and they are nice.

Welcome to Palm Beach International Airport...

Friends... How Many of Us Have Them...

the exchange of words
building bridges together
or is it a ruse?

Online friendships are one of the cornerstones of today's society. Finding people who share common interests online is almost as easy as going to the super market and finding that cereal with just the right mix of crunchy oats and mini marshmallows. But why is it that many of the people you find turn out to be shady faggots who are out for nothing more than to improve their game?

I found this individual online who I was really feeling. He was a lot like me in many respects but different enough that we could learn from each other. Of course from my first relationship I learned not to rush into things, so I took it slow and tried to get to know him. Things got complicated very quickly and I felt like there was something beneath the surface that was yet to be revealed. I have since backed off from my initial approach leaving enough space that communication is possible, but not as easy as it was.

I don't know what's becoming of six degrees of separation. Since the advent of the Internet, it has become more like .5 degrees of separation. Intermixing circles are all over Gotham. A web of connections -- people who seem destined to meet because they have the same friends -- but never the opportunity. No longer is that a unique situation; no longer a good omen.

Does online have a positive or a negative relationship to social workings? Will it ever become a replacement for actual real-life friendships? For every one quality friend it seems like there are four who should be in Belleview -- and they all know each other.

I wonder which of the five I'll be next...

It's a Boy!

the joy of new life
thru love, creating a child
shot out of my arm



Don't be a fool... wrap your tool...

So Deep You Could Fall Inside

operating room
visiting the hospital
not a conscious choice

So after the whole thing with my leg I thought I was "Free & Clear", you know, like my blood parasites group. Was I ever wrong. Apparently living inside the hospital you're exposed to more than just the surgeon... GERMS. It all started with a small bump.

You remember the day of the open house? It was then that I had this pimple-like bump festering inside my armpit. I thought it was nothing for the Mother Unit told me it was nothing. After all, she was the one who disposed of it to begin with and wrote it off as a pimple-like bump. She also said it would go away on its own. As the days progressed it just got bigger and bigger.

It was deep into the night that I had extreme pain in my arm. I could not sleep, tossing and turning about, like some wacked out gymnast on drugs, twisted and contorted into a pretzel while dislocating some ribs. Thankfully it was 9 in the morning and my nightmare was over. I reached for the phone and called Dr. Jose -- he had an opening at 11:30. I checked with the Mother Unit, Blood was not working until later and she could take me to the doctor's office. She told me to ask Blood to take me, so I did.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOKE ME UP ONE MINUTE BEFORE THE ALARM WENT OFF!"

Good morning to you too... So I asked her, "You think you could take me to the doctor's office?. Of course she said no -- so I stole her car when she was in the shower. I got there and after an hour I was finally seen. You have an abscess he says and writes me off to the next guy. Meanwhile, I have to go home and give that bitch back her car.

We carpooled to the Mall where the Mother Unit works and we met up.

The Mother Unit took me to Dr. M and after he looked at my arm, he said that it had to be cut open and removed. At that point it hurt so bad that I didn't care if he cut off my arm. Long story short, I'm back in the OR and getting ready to go under the knife.

I remember my way to the OR, a first in my series of events, and it was entertaining.

The Jew Came Back... The Very Next Day...

he gave big bone shit
but did not know i was home
he'd best think again

Today Bobby Big-Bone had an open house showcasing the property to realtors in the area. The event had a great turnout. We provided lunch in exchange for a business card. It wouldn't have been memorable if it wasn't for the man paying us a visit.

The doorbell rang and Bobby Big-Bone went to answer it. To his surprise he found Janus and some homely bitch at the door quoting some association dogma about his "For Sale" sign in the grass and about neighbors complaining. Keep in mind it was not in the ground for more than five minutes before he came a'knockin. Not wanting to cause any trouble, Bobby took the sign out of the ground and sent that jew mother fucker and the elderly cunt on their way. When he returned to the kitchen I inquired as to who it was that interrupted our preparation for the party, to which he replied, "Oh, it was people from the Association, they made me take down my sign..." That was all I needed to hear. As most of you know, I hate these people with every fiber of my being. My parents kiss their ass and get shit on, I'm not about to do the same.

Chulo's wearing some beat down shorts, a ratty t-shirt and his red cast. His hair is fro'd out and he has mad pain in his armpit from a growth that has gone untreated.

I exited the house to find them walking away victorious -- I pause and nod to the Mexican who is planting trees by the rocks Janus was so kind to have dumped in front of the house -- finally I shout out in an inquisitive tone, "DO WE HAVE A PROBLEM HERE?" The two of them stop, turn and look at the sight that had emerged from the house.


The following is how the conversation continued:

Janus: No, we don't have a problem. It's against the association rules to have real estate signs in the yard. People have called and complained already.
Chulo: Oh, people have called and complained about the sign in front of my house. I have a question, aside from us, did anyone call to complain about those god awful rocks in front of the house?
J:Oh, well technically, that's not your land. But no, no one else had called to complain about the rocks. Those were put there to protect the community.
C: Oh, I get it, because it only effects my family that makes it ok. What if I were to roll those rocks into the street and make it everyone's problem? Then I bet you'd be getting a lot of phone calls, don't you? If ya'll moved the gate instead of pulling some half assed shit like this then there wouldn't be a security problem for you to need to dump rocks here.
J: I spoke to your father about that, I told him I was 100% behind him when it came to moving the gate.
Old Cunt: That's not our problem, that's the builders of the development, I told your father that.
C: You know, that's great. Have you nothing better to do that drive around busting my balls? It seems that every time we try to take a breath, you're over here with some kind of problem. You want to fine us when we installed the gutters, you dump these rocks here to protect everyone else and now you're ruining my open house.
OC:No, we do not single your family out...
J:While I do drive around all day, I'm on the lookout for anything that might be in violation of the Association's rules, not just your family, but all residents here.
BOBBY BIG BONE ENTERS SCENE FROM THE HOUSE
Bobby: I need your help inside...
C: You're elected, aren't you?
J: Why yes, yes I am. You're welcome to come to the meetings to propose changes to the rules...
C: That's great. Just remember that an elected official your job is temporary... I got my eye on you. It was great talking to the both of you. Have a good day.

CHULO AND BOBBY BIG BONE LEAVE

So I return to the house and putter around. Something tells me to go check to see if those stalkers have left yet. Sure enough, wouldn't you know they're hanging out in front of the house? I look at them, "DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GATHER IN YOUR VEHICLE? Janus looks at me all confused like what? I reply, "CAN YOU GET IN YOUR CAR AND NOT HANG OUT IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE... IT'S JUST A REQUEST." Again, I turn and walk away back into the house. The two of them chilled in front of the house for another fifteen minutes before they finally got the hint and left. Damn sons of bitches want to fuck with me -- wait until I find out where he lives so I can bust HIS balls.

What goes around, comes around...

"Free at Last! Free at Last! Thank God Almighty, Chulo's Free at Last!"

we've seen seasons change
trapped in the house of despair
one-two step with me



Let's see if we can not break another bone...

Support for Travis...

This post is a comment response to T-Montez's Blog titled "No Fats, No Femmes"...

profile online
a shadow of your true self
will they find out tho?

I've been visiting that god awful website since Puerto Rican Surprise brought it to my attention, and while it offers the ease and convenience of shopping around for your next lay i've come to be very careful about the people that you find there and what they have to say. I think that might be a run-on sentence, but regardless... lol. The great thing about the horrible website is also its downfall -- that you can showcase what you believe are your best features, or at least the best features that will garner a response from a potential fuck. The only down side is that once these people start to get to know you outside of the limited 500 letters you provided in your profile, they begin to fill in the rest based on stereotypes.

This guy started talkin' to u cuz he was feelin' your profile, ok cool. You started to get to know each other and he took up enough interest to read what you had to say. Because online is a cold and emotionless medium, when he saw you describe yourself as effeminate he superimposed his definition over your word. Now while you're not Karamo from the Real World, you sure as hell aren't some queen in the street either. With him coming out and saying he's not into fems you can't really take it personally because it is his preference and while it might seem like a rejection, it's really not because certain things turn people on and others people off. but there's a silver lining -- he chatted with you long enuf to get to know what you were into and ya'll shared a lot of mutual interests, so he was willing to continue chatting online. with communication still open, you have the chance to orchestrate a real life meetup where he well then realize that you're no more fem than you are white.

It's one thing to have effeminate characteristics, it's another thing to be a kunty queen who thinks he's a bitch. Our society today has become too fixated on labels and passes over everyone who might be in a subset they might otherwise shy away from. with out labels there wouldn't be half the problems that we have in america today. For example, you jus come out to your friend, now they know you gay, and they treat you mad different afterwards. Regardless of the "gay" label that's been associated to you know, you're still the same person as the day before. people need to get over their short-sighted behavior and start to know people for who they are -- individuals -- each unique and irreplaceable.

Chulo's always got love for his T-Montez...

Flying Thru the Air With the Greatest of Ease...

in a giant plane
orbiting the planet earth
great day to come home


PHOTO COURTESY Yahoo!

Space... The final frontier...

Why Not Just Off Yourself?

flutter in the air
pollinate those who seek it
god, what have you done

Now Chulo's heard some strange things in his life from people who enjoy being urinated on to a Colombian busting his nut on someone's feet, but this children, this has got me concerned. In this world of Homotopia, the internet has become the number one hotspot for meeting people. Whether it is a friend to hang out with because you're just in to the city or a "friend" to hang out with because he's just in you, these online portals have become the easiest way to narrow down people who you think you'd like get get with based on a series of standard options.

Like buying a new car, you check everything out to see what it's equipped with. Maybe you want a new Latino Dominican model, equip'd with caramel skin, average height, athletic build and a nice uncut dick. Perhaps you want a Cracka Corn-fed White Boy model, equip'd with skin as white as snow, boy next door looks, bright green eyes and a hungry ass. Not only are these places dehumanizing the courting process, they're also bringing rise to beyond risky behavior and fatal sexual obsessions. What we're talking about here today is people who engage in "Bug Chasing".

Bug Chasers, as they're known, are HIV- men who seek out HIV+ men to intentionally become infected with the disease. I know what you're doing, your doing what I did, y you're saying to yourself, "Who the fuck would do that, Chulo?. Unfortunately the answer is more than you would would ever believe. This is some scary shit, and what's worse, these Bug Chasers have actually rationalized their behaviour.

For these individuals, there are four major reasons why they want to get the HIV. Some want it because it's, in their opinion, the ultimate sexual rush. They find it erotic that their partner is giving them such a life altering "gift" and it excited them that they are pleasing their partner by letting him share this aspect of himself with them. This joining is the ultimate taboo for them, and the entire event is something that could never be touched.

For others, they look at their situation much like this; If I'm going to get it anyways, I might as well do it on my own time rather than live and wonder if it's happened yet. Many are having massive amounts of risky sex and others are using intravenous needles to shoot drugs -- some are doing both. They see it as something that is bound to happen along their journey of unsafe choices and would rather take control of that aspect of their life.

There are also those out there who believe that the system takes such good care of the HIV population by giving them medications and breaks on housing and other such things that being positive is just a minor annoyance compared to the benefits that they will receive. They see their life going no where, and as a means to survive get infected.

Finally, there is a group that see being positive as belonging to a special club, a fraternity if you will. Some are loners in the community while other just have no friends for whatever reason -- being positive creates a support group like atmosphere, With this group, no longer are they alone; with this group they have found others in situations that all can identify with.

Regardless of the rationalization behind "chasing the bug", one thing is for sure, it is a permanent change to life as you may have known it. Perhaps glamorous at first, as you veer away from the "freedom" of bare-backing and not giving a shit because what can possibly be worse than HIV, and you finally decide to "settle down" into a relationship it will obviously lose its appeal... if it even takes that long.

Even Chulo can be serious sometimes...

It Will All Come Out in the Wash...

from the dawn of time
their lives an inspiration
now only deceit


PHOTO COURTESY MEDINA=CITI

We're approaching the one month mark of Chulo's online experience. With most things that are kinda nifty and cool, once one person does it and it takes off, it doesn't take much for their peers to imitate said nifty and cool thing and have one of their own. T-Montez suggested that I, Chulo, take up blogging. I never was one to write my thoughts down on paper, and never dare thought I would post them for the world to see. With the launch of EL JANGUEO, blogs from Eulicious, Escaflowne and now Medina=Citi have been created in the same online universe. Not that I'm irritated that people are biting at my style, rather far from it. I'm glad that I can serve as an inspiration to others, much like T-Montez has served for me.

What does get me is how people have come to twist my words and fail to notice the role that they play and the responsibility that is there. The Little Bird taught me that between anger and responsibility lies blame. A tricky concept to grasp, yes, but how i understand it is like this. In feeling anger and while dishing out responsibility, the blame ultimately lies on you for allowing the situation to get as far as it had.

MEDINA=CITI has not spoken to me since My Size Dominican-gate, and since then I have been writing about the events that have happened in my life, many of them involving MEDINA=CITI. I would like to state for the record that I have had nothing but love an support for Will, the person who came before MEDINA=CITI. Since MEDINA=CITI has risen like a phoenix from the ashes from the corpse of Will, it's as if I really don't know him anymore. I read the first entry of his blog and I really took his words to heart. He included a graphic (shown above) that was inspired by the events that happened the morning of the MEDINA = CITI art show. It shows a wounded MEDINA=CITI cradling three hearts while three collaborators look on, all standing by a body of water. In the reflection it shows the bad things being washed away. The entire underlying meaning, a shadow of The Writer.

In the text of the blog it paints a picture of a broken and wounded MEDINA=CITI. Abandoned by his closest friends; deceived by those who he trusted -- malcontents who turned on him to spread lies and and secretly hope for him to fail. This really gave me pause for I felt that he had dedicated part of this message to me. He was speaking in a blog, hosted in the same location as my own, perhaps in response to the things that I have written. Maybe it's guilt making me believe that I may be at the root of MEDINA=CITI's "venting" or perhaps it's all just a coincidence. Do I feel guilty? Perhaps in some amount as I do value his friendship, but all relationships are a two way street, and it takes more than one person to make things work. He had indicated he needed time to collect his thoughts and I respected that and let him alone. It hurts me to know that the last time I saw him, I don't even remember the events because I was inebriated.

If MEDINA=CITI was hurt by the content of my blog that was not my intention at all. My writings are a way for me to cope with the feelings that I have within. Do I feel abandoned by MEDINA=CITI, the answer is an overpowering yes. Are there more like me? You had better believe it. The words on this page come from the heart -- if they are interpreted to be malicious, that is because the reader perceives them that way. If said reader is the person who I am writing about, then perhaps it is guilt that is making you lash out against me because you know that from my perspective everything that has been written is true. I take my writings seriously, and try to paint a picture of the whole story to my readers. This is more than an online rant of those who have caused me pain. To dismiss it as that or as "dirt being thrown in your face" is not only a disservice to my writing, but also a devaluing of my emotions.

I hope that your new friends are as pure in heart as you, for I have failed you...

Cock Sucker in Disguise...

he came to my door
wearing a mask of concern
devil in disguise

So the Haitians came today to install gutters on the house to prevent the rain from turning the little bit of grass that we do have into a swamp. Sure enough, don't you think that the cock sucking bastard who had the rocks dumped in front of the house was at the front door talking to my the Mother Unit about some bueracratic bullshit. The Mother Unit had no idea who the jew bastard was -- he's like, oh I'm on the board -- she's like what's ya name.

Neal... or as he's known hence-forth... Janus

That's when she remembered... he's the motherfucker that had the rocks deposited in the yard, he's the motherfucker who doesn't return phone calls... he's the motherfucker that told the Haitians that he was going to fine us because we didn't seek the association's permission. Janus then began to cross examine the Mother Unit at the front door asking her twenty questions about the minor home inprovement operation. Did we have permits from the village, did we get permission from the association, did we do this, did we do that... as if he was a government official on some bullshit IRS tax-evasion sting op. His elected position only means one thing -- that his Jew eyes can be in everyone's business whenever the son of a bitch gets bored with his mundane life and feels like harassing the good folk who don't drive a BMW and worship a Pagan religion.

Regardless, I made my way to investigate who the Mother Unit was talking to. I found her speaking to some random guy -- all I knew was there were supposed to be random guys there because it was their job to put up the gutters. But the more I listened to his poisoned words, the stronger my suspicions that he did not belong became. I began to ask questions about the permit situation and he began to spout some dogmatic bullshit about association rules and blah blah blah. So quid pro quo I said, "Well it's mighty good that we have to care about what the association has to say when we want to do something, but when it comes to what they want to do there's no involvement. Look at these ugly rocks in front of the house, what kind of shit is that? We're not even in the gate -- I bet the association would love if we stopped paying dues. It's not like we're getting any benefits from them. What can they do if we withhold payment anyways?".

Well that was the wrong question -- in short, they can foreclose on the house. Who knew? But one thing is for certain, my outburst made him nervous enough to get back into his vehicle to go harass some other home improver. I really need to get his job so that I can make his life as monitored as mine. I'll park my car outside his house and stand watch, waiting for him to slip up. As if he's so perfect, he's on the board, he can do as he pleases. Mama guevaso!

I've got you in my sights little man...

Bochinche

i heard you said this
who told you those bold-faced lies
that bitch gon' get read

Once upon a time there was a boy named Chulo. He was raised in the smallest state with the longest name, the State of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. You would never know it. He carries with him a New York State ID, a Metrocard with some money on it, and a Sidekick II with a 646 area code. In addition to those supplies, Chulo speaks like a New Yawka and has more friends within the boros than he does in the state of Florida where he currently resides.

With all of these wonderful things working towards his emancipation from the indentured servitude of the South, Chulo has one thing that surprises everyone, his unfortunate consumption by faggot drama. If you ask Chulo, he'll tell you one of the things he despises the most is how Patos talk behind each other's backs and cause unnecessary drama, yet the poor thing is drawn in like a moth to a flame.

One would think that New York City (Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens & Shaolin) would be a large enough place populated by a ginormous amount of people that the overlap of strangers would be minimal -- I prey that i am the exception, and not the rule. It would seem that I am a denizen of this city even tho I've never lived more than two weeks at a time, if for nothing more than my day-to-day interactions with its full-time workers.

This is a fictional story about a group of people living in Gotham...

Background:
1 and 3 have talked online for what seems like forever.
1 and 2 dated for a series of almost 5 months.
2 and 3 know each other.
2 and 4 know each other.
3 and 4 are family.
1 and 5 are talking but there's a surprise.

Story:
After an interesting breakup between 1 and 2, 2 expressed interest to work things out while 1 needed time to analyze what has been going on in his life. During this period of time, 1 continued to talk to 3, as they're friends online and cool like that. 2 and 3 have had some kind of falling out that 1 had tried really hard to keep himself out of.

During the month of July, 1 and 2 met up to have a discussion about their relationship. Meanwhile 1 started talking to 5 on that horrible website. 2 expressed to 1 that it would be really nice if they could make their relationship work, to which 1 admitted that while it was really nice, towards the end 1 got hurt and was still feelin the sting. After 1 gets home, he and 5 began to step up the conversation. They realized they share a lot in common in relation to likes and dislikes as well as opinions on life issues.

Fast forward to this evening. As 1 is talking to 5, he receives IMs from 2 and 3. 2 wants to know about faggot gossip and 3 wants to know about 1's rendezvous with 2 while he was in the city. Both, coincidently enough, topics that 1 shared with 5. As the evening progressed, 2 asked 1 if he knew 5. As 1 had nothing to hide he admitted to having many interesting conversations with 5. This went on for about fifteen minutes and 1 sat there confused.

Come to find out, 2 says he and 5 have been talking and along with this, getting to know each other better. 1, confused tries to establish some level of understanding with 5, when 5 admits he's not 5 at all -- he's 4. 1 is now done; heart in chest -- alone and confused. Not only are he and 2 talking to the same guy, but that guy is 4.

The significance of 4 is seen in the relationship he shares with 3. 2 and 3 had some kind of an incident and 4's name was brought up unleashing a firestorm of chatter and shade. Of course 1 kept far away from that because he does not participate in direct drama, rather he is inadvertently drawn in later on.

As 1 talks to 5, who is now 4, 4 tells 1 that the things 2 is saying are not true and that 2 is going to get read for opening his mouth. 1 tried to calm 4, but to no avail 2 gets read and ultimately tells 1 that he's a shady faggot and we all know that is one of the worst class of homo you can be. As 2 is quick to run his mouth, 1 reminds 2 that there really is no need to flip balls because if the things he was saying were true then there wouldn't be a problem. Not a short while later, 2 goes to bed leaving 1 and 4 to continue to discuss what happened.

Now 1 is left with a great deal of conflicting stories. Is 2 running his mouth, making his relationship with 4 to be more than it really was in order to show 1 that he does still care for him, and had he not made 2 wait then there wouldn't be this problem. Perhaps 4 is using 1 to find more information out about 2 before he proceeds with whatever is really going on. Unfortunately for 1, 2 and 4 are both maintaining that their stories and that the other is either getting dicked down or making up stories.

Solution:

Shit bitch, if I knew this you think I'd have an online journal?

Twenty Five and Unable to Answer a Phone...

he forgets most dates
yet he remembered today
and the phone just rang

With the passing of a quarter of a century, we are reminded that with old age simple activities can become harder and harder to do. In this case, it's answering the phone. Principio turned twenty five today. I called almost as many times from 8:00 am to 5:00 pm with varying levels of success. Early in the day I got rings then the voice mail, around 1:00 it switched and went straight to voice mail. I didn't leave a message because that's just tacky -- happy birthday wishes on a recording? Not me.

Maybe this is part of the healing process for him -- no phone calls on days that should be reserved for people who don't have some kind of past romantic involvement. I'm not really sure. But if someone called me more than ten times and didn't leave a message, I'd be sure to call the motherfucker back to see what it was they wanted. That's just me, some people can control their curiosity.


So here I'm left thinking, "Is it possible to have a friendship after you've dated someone?". Initially I would say yes, why not. Surely two mature individuals can come to terms with their feelings and continue on with a friendship. Judging from his behaviour however, it would appear to be quite the opposite.

Maybe it has something to do with what he told me when I returned to Florida from my last trip to NY, "I lied... I could have taken you to the airport, I got out of work early. I didn't want to see you again tho because my feelings are all over the place and I can't deal."

As Hercules would say, that sounds like a personal issue. I don't mean to be insensitive, but ignoring things won't make them go away and it just makes me feel worse. It's not like the insensitive comments that were directed to me that precipitated the breakup didn't hurt, so if anyone should be avoiding the other person it should be me.

He always told me it was other people, like his previous men, that would be taken out of his life after the relationship was over. They would leave him all alone and it would hurt, but in the end it made him a better person. I always told him I wasn't going anywhere. Now I understand tho; it's not that they get taken out of his life and never call again, rather the relationship ends and he can't cope with the emotions that are left over, so he choses to ignore them until they stop calling all together.

Shadows of those who came before remain in the image; their voices and actions loud and clear in his thoughts...