Hispanic! At The Disco

The Hard Choices

2012-01-27T08:03:00.000-08:00

So, as of this past Monday my oldest daughter began taking some anti-depressant medication as prescribed by her primary care physician. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I know it really is the only option we have at this point. I mean, who wants to say that their daughter is on anti-depressants? It pains me to see her not fully experiencing her teenage years, and making so many poor decisions that could effect her future. Thinking back on my high school years (which were actually quite enjoyable), I know what she is missing out on by not being more socially active. With all that she has been through, I suppose we are getting off easy with only some minor acting out up to this point, but sometimes I see things churning beneath the surface. Things that worry me. Will she be equipped to be on her own when she's done with high school? Will she make it out of high school without ending up pregnant? Will she make it at all? I don't want her to be lost. I see so many other kids that are just...lost. I can only trust that we are doing everything we can to prepare her and that somehow it will come to the forefront when she needs it.

We didn't arrive at the option of medication quickly, but with the exhausted psychological care benefits we have we really didn't have much of a choice. I sat down with her a couple of weeks ago to discuss this option and told her it would be her choice as to whether or not she gave it a try. Luckily, she agreed, and so we are starting off with a low, 10mg prescription for generic Prozac. We went over all of the potential side effectsThe doctor said it would take about three to four weeks to build up in her system and to come back at that time for a checkup. Maybe I'm overly optimistic, but I want to say she's been more upbeat lately. Maybe I'm just fooling myself. I don't know. But I know that I love her, I want her to be happy and I want her to smile more.

Now comes the hard part: explaining this to her mom.

Arise from your grave!

2012-01-25T18:46:00.000-08:00

So, after almost a three year absence, I've decided to resuscitate this long silent blog. What made me decide to do this? After hanging out with some awesome friends recently, and realizing that I need to keep my writing skills sharp I came to the conclusion that this is best way. I'll be posting on various subject such as parenting issues, being a returning college student, entertainment news, gaming and pretty much anything else that strikes my fancy. I can't promise a definite posting schedule, but I think you can expect 2 to three posts per week. I hope you'll all come on back and check it out.

Zombie Michael Jackson Watch 2009

2009-07-13T17:02:00.000-07:00

People! The time has come to take up arms against the rising evil. I've heard from a completely unreliable source that the corpse of Michael Jackson will soon rise from the grave to wreak havoc upon the unsuspecting populace and spread his undead evil across the world. We only have days to take up arms and fight! Shotguns, axes, sporks, fruit cake, anything you can get your hands on must be used to stem the coming tide of necrotic flesh. Because of my extensive history of putting down the recently deceased, I have a few tips that should help those of you caught unawares to survive the impending war:

1. Aim for the head! You can distract him long enough to take aim by throwing a small boy (ages 5 and up are preferable according to my , um, research) in his path.

2. Stock up on supplies: Water, canned goods and zombie repellant will be vital. If you're unable to find zombie repellant (damned Wal-Mart is always out) then Hawaiian Tropic Sun Tan Lotion will do in a pinch. Zombie MJ will do anything to avoid getting any pigment into its rotting epidermis.

3. (Have someone else) Take one for the team: Always be aware of who the weakest member of your party is so you'll never hesitate in leaving that person behind should they trip, get wounded, ask for an autograph etc.

I'll try and come back with some more info and survival tips, but I have to spread the word. Fight on!

A stitch in time

2009-02-02T14:20:00.000-08:00

I was cruising the web today when I came across a most intriguing trailer for a movie. Now, I'm usually a sucker for animated films that don't involve talking ponies or Randy Newman "music", but what caught my attention the most about this was the concept and art design of the film. The design definitely has a Tim Burton feel to it, so I was not surprised to see his name attached to it as a producer, but oddly enough not as director. Same thing for Timur Bekmambetov (douchebag...don't get me started). The directing credits are all going to Shane Acker. Apparently this is based on a short film by Acker, which after watching it on YouTube tells me the film is sticking very close to the source material. Even in the short film, the mute protagonists convey a wealth of emotion through their burlap sack faces and mechanical iris eyes. The film adaptation hosts a slew of big Hollywood talent attached to it. Elijah Wood will voice the titular character 9, with Fred Tatasciore (known primarily for his voice work in many Marvel Comics animation projects such as the Hulk Vs. films, and games such as Gears of War in which he voices Damon Baird), Jennifer Connelly, Crispin Glover, John C. Reilly, Martin Landau and Christopher Plummer round out the primary cast as 7,6,5,2 and 1 respectively.

According to the synopsis on IMDb:

"9 takes place in a world parallel to our own, in which the very legacy of humanity is threatened. A group of sapient rag dolls, living a post-apocalyptic existence find one of their own, 9 (Elijah Wood), who displays leadership qualities that may help them to survive."

Also, the music in the trailer is Coheed and Cambria's "Welcome Home", which in its self is enough to guarantee my ten bucks at the ticket booth.

So, to get your feet wet here is the original short film off of YouTube:

And here is the trailer for the feature length film set to open on September 9, 2009 (9-09-09...ooooooh)

Oh, what the hell, here's the video for Coheed and Cambria's "Welcome Home" 'cuz it fucking rawks!

Coheed and Cambria -Welcome Home
Uploaded by bigheadche

Ride it

2008-12-05T10:55:00.000-08:00

As I was driving home from school today, I caught the beginning to a song that sounded strangely familiar but I just couldn't put my finger on it. I parked, sat in the car and listened for the words . Then they started singing..."Ride it, my pony...". Holy SHIT! Someone was covering Ginuwine's song "Pony". I ran inside, went to KROQ.com and saw it was some band called "Far".

I want to have this song's babies put inside me. Here it is, "Pony"...

Disassociated Press

2008-11-12T05:00:00.000-08:00

A recent article off the AP has the Catholic Church vowing to take on the Obama Presidency over the issue of abortion.

According to the article, the church feels it may be under attack with this new administration. An administration that is based on change and hope for a better, brighter future. So the church sees itself as under attack by change and hope. No news there. I don't think I've been particular vocal about my feelings towards organized religion on this blog, but sufficed to say, I'm not particularly fond of any religion predicated on the notions that there is no room for other deities, that an eternity of torture awaits any who stray from an antiquated doctrine and that newborn children that die before baptism are condemned to limbo. Call me quirky.

However, I do support an individuals right to choose their own religion despite these feelings. I will always support the choice of the individual and would fight to protect it. To remove someones ability to make their own decisions whether it's in respect to their choice of religion or what they do with their body flies in the face of the ideals this country was founded on. It is a step back towards a puritanical mindset that many in this country are still fighting so hard to move beyond.

The article goes on to mention that prelates in the Catholic church would be taken Catholic policy makers to task for not adhering to the Catholic doctrine in regards to said policy making. I take incredible offense at this. I am of the opinion that the church has absolutely no place at the political decision making table. I want my representatives to make their decisions based on logic, pragmatism, and common decency. What I don't want is someones judgement being influenced by church doctrine, in effect foisting that doctrine upon their constituents and disguising it as sound judgement.

Whew, rant over. Now, moving on to more important stuff. I just got Gears of War 2, bitches! Suck my carbide tipped chainsaw!

Note:
Well, looks like you won't be able to chow down on some Christ crackers either.

The reality of Realty

2008-10-16T19:46:00.000-07:00

In light of the economic clusterfuck going on within the real estate market and the economy in general, I thought I would share some of the horror stories of working in the sub-prime lending industry that no doubt contributed to the sorry state of affairs in what recent radio commercials to as a "fundamentally sound" real estate market.

As some of you may know, a couple of years ago I used to work at a leading sub prime lender in Orange County that went belly up shortly after I left. This was during the tail end of the California real estate boom, when every family thought there home was worth a million dollars and repainting the exterior of their home would increase the value by ten grand. It was also a time when you could find a loan program for just about every circumstance, and the obscene lender fees to go along with it. Mortgage lenders slung loan programs like it was the Old West. No income? No problem. No proof of residency. No problem. No job? Not a problem, sir, just sign on this Borrower's Authorization Form on the dotted line.

During my tenure at said lender, there are a few stories that stuck in my head for not only their sheer audacity, but for their long term implications. On one specific occasion, I recall a young hot shot "Credit Manager" (loan officer for the lay man) working a deal with a potential borrower who was shall we say, "employment challenged". Fortunately for the resourceful credit manager and the borrower, the borrower's sister owned a local hardware store. After some coordinating between the credit manager and the borrower, an employment verification form magically appeared in the credit manager's hand verifying that the borrower worked at the store and had worked there since time immemorial. Problem solved, right? Maybe. Basically what this loan officer did was provide the borrower with a cash out refinance that she could not afford to pay back, simply because she wanted it and he had the tools to make it happen.

Well, moving on. Our next little horror story involves a borrower, a credit manager, a roof in need of repair, and some nifty software. A relatively average borrower came to a credit manager with a request for a refi to take some cash out and take a vacation with his family. Unfortunately, the appraisal on the home came back with some disturbing (shock!) information. The borrower's roof was in need of repair, and the appraiser was required to include this information in his report. Now, this wouldn't necessarily kill the loan. Not as long as a roof inspector could sign off that the roof was not on it's "last legs", so to speak. Well, if the report came back fine, I wouldn't be telling you about this now would I? But have no fear, friends! Luckily, the computer fax software that was installed on the desktops of all credit managers had some oh so nifty tools included with it. One of those tools was a cut/copy paste option that let you lift copy and transfer any portion of an image and transfer it or completely remove any pesky little negative information and, shall we say get "creative" with the document. So, according the the scuttlebutt, this credit manager was able to generate an entirely made up roof certification using the stationary the original fax came in on, leaving only the original signature of the roof inspector and a brand spanking new certification of the roof. Ta-dah!

Now, these are just a couple of the whoppers I heard about. This doesn't include the stories about credit managers making up credit reports out of whole cloth, generating false income documents, and appraisers creating reports using false images and pushing value so hard you'd think they were getting paid based on the value of the home.

Now, this is not to say that all sub-prime lenders are underhanded douchebags that would sell their grandmother's teeth for a commission. I'm sure that there are plenty out there that would take a flat fee.

But don't worry, because according to some of the radio commercials I hear, the real estate market is still "fundamentally sound".

Party of 5

2008-10-15T20:25:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, for anyone still checking in to my little corner of the blogosphere we just found out that we are expecting a new guest at The Disco! That's right folks, not only will I be shaping young minds when I become a teacher, but I'll have one that'll be forced to live with me! Mwaaahahahahahaaaaaaaaa!

But seriously, we are very excited for this and we can't wait to see the little bugger.

I've got an O-Boner

2008-10-07T19:48:00.000-07:00

So, we just finished watching tonight's debate and I gotta say that our boy Obama came out swinging. McCain spread the "America, fuck yeah!" pretty thick and it rang out just like the jingoistic bullshit that it is. And that bit with him shaking the Navy vet's hand? Come on, people. Big fucking deal. Anyone trying to say that it was some kind of defining moment in the debate needs to have their head examined.

Obama was concise, direct, and didn't let Old Man River get a head of steam on him. He addressed McCain's accusations of his stances on energy, health care, and the economy while McCain seemed to have found crony-ism in the dictionary and picked it as his word of the evening. I'll be working the polls this coming November, so if any SoCal bloggers out there would like to come down and cast your ballot, I'll be posting my location as soon as it's confirmed.

I don't know karate, but I know cuh-razy

2008-09-12T00:50:00.001-07:00

Well, I guess I've been gone long enough to convince everyone that I'm either dead or dying. Not so, fuckers! Actually, I've decided on a course of self improvement for my self and hopefully my family. I've decided to return to school to get my Masters and become what I have always wanted to become...an English teacher. Yes, that's right folks, I will be helping to mold the minds of our youth. This wasn't an easy decision, as it's placed a large portion of the financial burden on Mrs. Disco, but we have come to an understanding that this is the best thing for everyone involved. For the longest time I have wanted to be a teacher, ever since my English teacher in high school, Ms. Melendrez inspired me by setting the example of how all it takes is one good teacher to motivate a student to greater heights. I'm taking my general ed courses so I can get those out of the way and then transfer to UC Irvine to get my Masters in Education, and then it's off to reform our educational system!

I'm sorry for being away for so long, but the way my brain is wired I have to focus on one thing at a time so I don't spin my wheels. Now that I've been in my classes for a couple of weeks and gotten my homework and study habits in line, I'll be posting regularly.

Here's a little something that I dug up on the old interwebs. I think I have a bit of a man-crush on Matt Damon now.

Thug Life

2008-07-30T20:06:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, sorry I've been MIA for a while, but there have been a few recent developments that have been taking up all of my attencion. I don't want to bore you guys with the gory details, but the crazy ex is up to her old tricks again, but my oldest is definitely having some emotional issues that have to be dealt with immediately.

But here are a few things that have grabbed my attention but haven't really merited a full blown post of their own:

Blogger extraordinaire Chez finally had his baby! Say hi to Inara Grace Pazienza (do Scantron sheets have enough bubbles for all of that?)

Feminists have their panties in a bunch over portrayal of a chunky princess in a new Sony game. This is what we get for giving you equal rights? Freakin' ungrateful broads...

Speaking of M.I.A., here's the latest from the group that I believe is on the Pineapple Express Soundtrack. Thug life, bitches.

Feel the burn

2008-07-21T09:22:00.000-07:00

Strangely satisfying...

I am become death, destroyer of blogs

2008-07-11T09:52:00.000-07:00

So, what the hell people? For some reason, the readership on this blog has dropped down to me and some unemployed surfer in Thailand. What did I do people? Did I sleep with your wife? Husband? Did I call your kid a nasty name? They totally deserved it, truth be told. That kid’s an asshole.

Am I not entertaining enough for you? Do I need to jump off of another roof to prove my love for you? FINE. If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Well, I’ll hopefully be hooking up (not like that, you nasty) with blogger and where movie references go to die, Prisco, and hopefully a couple of the big muck-a-mucks from Pajiba in a couple of weeks after they’ve spent the day dressed as Wonder Woman and Bat Girl at the Comic Con in San Diego.

With any luck, I’ll be able to get some incriminating photos of them that I can parley into some cold hard cash. But it’s all in the name of good fun. And web traffic. Because I am an attention whore.

Editor's note: I will also be meeting up with the lovely and oh so talented Girl with Curious Hair of the blog by the same name andBlog Me a Tale.

It's raining Puerto Ricans
by mannmartinez

This just in

2008-07-09T07:33:00.001-07:00

I may have just discovered the greatest show in the history of basic cable.

Armenian Superstar.

More to come soon.

Recipe for disaster

2008-07-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

If any of you have read some of the other comment threads that I’ve been a part of on Pajiba, you know that my loathing of Tyler Perry is well documented. HOWEVER, this motherfucker (hey my spell check didn’t catch “motherfucker’, weird) has sunk to a new low. I picked up on the synopsis for his latest cinematic bowel movement whilst perusing WorstPreviews:

Official plot synopsis: "Wealthy socialite Charlotte Cartwright (Kathy Bates) and her dear friend Alice Pratt (Alfre Woodard), a working class woman of high ideals, have enjoyed a lasting friendship throughout many years. Suddenly, their lives become mired in turmoil as their adult children's extramarital affairs, unethical business practices and a dark paternity secret threaten to derail family fortunes and unravel the lives of all involved. Alice's self-centered newlywed daughter Andrea (Sanaa Lathan) is betraying her trusting husband Chris (Rockmond Dunbar) by engaging in a torrid affair with her boss and mothers best friends son William (Cole Hauser). While cheating on his wife Jillian (Kadee Strickland) with a string of ongoing dalliances with his mistress Andrea, William's true focus is to replace the COO of his mothers lucrative construction corporation. Meanwhile, Alice's other daughter Pam (Taraji Henson), a kind but no nonsense woman married to a hard working construction worker (Tyler Perry), tries to steer the family in a more positive direction.

While paternity secrets, marital infidelity, greed and unsavory business dealings threaten to derail both families, Charlotte and Alice decide to take a breather from it all by making a cross-country road trip in which they rediscover themselves and possibly find a way to save their families from ruin."

The previous was the synopsis for “The Family that Preys”. Did that not sound like the kind of shit you find on really bad day time television? Go ahead and read it again if you need to (or if you’d like to know what it fees like to have the left side of your brain collapse in on itself), I’ll wait. Done? Good. So am I. For one thing, I am tired of this self righteous bastard taking the same tired, trite film concepts he’s been recycling ever since he got up enough scratch to start his own production company and repackaging them, hoping that somehow he’ll be able to generate enough buzz for people to forget that if you’ve seen one Tyler Perry play, you’ve seen them all and don’t even bother seeing the movies. Not familiar with the Tyler Perry Quick and Easy Recipe for Plays and Four Alarm Chili? Well, here’s the quick version:

Ingredients:

A Handful of C list Black actors/actresses
1 Plot line from previous film/play or R. Kelly’s “In the Closet” video series.
1 Random white devil
2 Cups Maple Syrup for overly sweet and sticky emotional throughline
1 Bible passage
Add Prosthetic boobs to personal taste

Take Black actors/actresses and direct them to overact and adopt a Black stereotype (preferably “upstanding blue collar worker”, “playuh” or “ho’”)
Combine actors/actresses with plot line in bowl and fold in maple syrup.
Mix in evil white actor/actress and direct them to “look evil. And white.”

Once the mixture is complete, sprinkle Bible passage over entire mixture and allow to form a thin, flaky and easily poked through crust.

Serves one.

Do you see where I’m going with this? It’s become old hat for Perry to recycle the same tired, trite Black stereotypes in slightly different packages each and every time he gets behind the camera. There is nothing new in his films, there is no unique directing style, no challenging of the preconceptions about black film makers. Perry simply panders to his established audience and pats them on the head while his other hand is in their pocket. On the other hand, he has succeeded in creating a veritable money making machine by turning out the same banal crap that he knows his fans will flock to with blind abandon.

Or perhaps he's conducting a study to see if all black men that become rich really do turn into wife abusing, philandering, money hungry assholes like in his plays, with him as the subject.

Separation Anxiety

2008-07-01T08:59:00.000-07:00

So, my daughters will be leaving today at approximately 9am to spend the next month with their mother. That’s 30 days. 720 hours. 7,200 minutes. I’ve been decidedly nervous about this for the past couple of days for a couple of reasons. Primarily, I’m wary of how prolonged exposure to their mother affects their overall behavior when they return. Early on when they first moved in with us, they would return from their visits sullen and disobedient. Of course this has gotten much better over they years, but this is a whole freakin’ month we’re talking about here.

To be quite honest, I don’t think she (their mother) even knows how to deal with a child over the age of 9. She has a tendency to “baby” them and not communicate with them like the mature young women that they are. I remember getting calls from their mother at night when they were half the age they are now, with her asking me to talk to them because they weren’t listening to her and she didn’t know what to do. Not exactly a confidence booster there.

I understand that this is of course their mother and they need to spend time with her, but hey, this is just how I feel. Of course there are mothers out there that are fantastic *cough* Kristine *cough*, and are mature enough to handle pre teens. I just don’t think that bio-mom is one of those.

Can you hear me practicing my breathing? Yeah. Hee-Hee-hoooooo.

Anyway, last night we (Mrs. Disco and I) went for a late night swim with the girls, brought some snacks and Thor, and had a good time. Of course, Danielle was being her pre-teen self and was “bored” after 20 minutes. We hung out for a while longer, or at least until the warmth from the earlier part of the day wore off and we began to feel the chill of the night air. We then retired to the reading room (read: living room slash dining room slash TV room slash Rock Band stage) to watch some family television: A&E's "Intervention". Weeeeee!

(Update: 08:47 a.m.They just called to say that their mom just showed up to get them. Is it wrong that I was prepared to talk to them for the next 9 hours so I could keep them from leaving until I got home? I’m gonna go barf now.)

OC News Roundup

2008-06-26T09:56:00.000-07:00

Is there a Merit Badge for Grand Theft Auto?

When I was in the Boy Scouts (shut up, TK), we got our kicks from archery class, learning how to start a camp fire, and the lingering stares of our Scout Master. I guess kids these days need a bigger rush than you would get from trying to not be the last one in the showers. OC Register.

Get your hands off my pussy

You know, I’ve been known to give my dog a rub down when he’s had a rough day of laying on the couch, having only a dish full of food and water and a floor full of toys to play with, but I draw the line when it comes to cats. Those smarmy, pissy little bastards certainly don’t deserve a $50/hour rub down from some septuagenarian with too much time on her hands. Helps with digestion? What the fuck are they feeding their cats? Filet Mignon? OC Register.

Send in the clown’s Crash cart

I dunno about any of you, but I have never had a clown at any of my previous birthday parties, and I’m not really sure if I would’ve wanted to if there were the chance that he might (OC Register):

A) Keel over dead from making balloon animals
B) Have Vietnam flashbacks every time a balloon popped
C) Ask to sit on my lap and tell me about the time he and Nixon walked on the moon
D) All of the above

Plus, the dude is fucking scary looking! I mean, if I wanna make some kids cry I’ll just do what I normally do:I tell them Santa Claus is dead and that we ate the Easter Bunny for dinner last night. Mmmmm, toasty.

Currently listening to: Your lingering cries for help.

Heat Wave Haiku

2008-06-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

Happy fuckin’ Tuesday, folks! I hope all of you had a great mother-fucking weekend. I managed to get stuck doing laundry in a house with no air conditioning in 90 degree weather AND I was interrogated by a police officer, all in one day!

But enough about me, I know what all two of you are waiting for. Using the current heat wave as inspiration for my perspiration, it’s that time of the week again where I take an ancient form of poetry and puke all over it. Like ta’ hear it? Here it goes:

Sun rises up high
Sweat like MJ at Disney
Why can’t I just die?

*Oh, and to my co-worker that can’t seem to find a pair of pants that fit her ginormous ass and has her Rock of the 90’s CD playing on a continuous loop, “Go to Hell”.

I only need to hear the Cranberries/Spin Doctors/Hootie and the Blowfish once a day, thank you very freakin’ much. God, I hate you right now.

A legend in his own time

2008-06-23T09:36:00.000-07:00

I just learned that comedian/actor/author and all around jackass and one of my favorite comedians, George Carlin, passed away due to heart failure on Sunday.

George’s career began in the 1960’s, most notably on the Ed Sullivan Show (yeah, I’m too young to remember that, too). He was also the first host of NBC’s Saturday Night Live (who remembers when SNL was actually funny and not just a springboard for any no talent comedian/actor’s acting careers?) His “Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television” routine was one of his most popular and probably most controversial, netting him a charge of indecency.

On a personal note, despite his cult status and anti-establishment routines, my clearest memories of George are as the sage-like Rufus from the Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure film, and as the golf obsessed Roman Catholic cardinal behind the “Buddy Christ” marketing scheme for the Catholic Church in the Kevin Smith film, Dogma. The role of Rufus seemed more like a "thanks for the paycheck" role, while the cardinal was infused with all of Carlin's disdain for religion in general, playing the role of someone oblivious to their own ridiculousness.

In an age of Dane Cook’s, Mike Myers, and Lisa Lampanelli’s, George was one of the few comedians that actually said something worth hearing. His routines were not vulgar for vulgarities sake, but rather it drew you in and you were then hooked by his insightful routines on politics (“…an illusion of choice…”), religion ("There is no God"), and humanity ("I think we're already 'circling the drain' as a species, and I'd love to see the circles get a little faster and a little shorter"). The world is too bright and shiny without you, George.

In honor of George, here are the seven words he was originally fined by the utterly useless FCC for uttering on television:

1. Shit
2. Piss
3. Fuck
4. Cunt
5. Cocksucker
6. Motherfucker
7. Tits

Also, here is a link to the entire routine on YouTube.

George is survived by his daugher, Kelly.

Put my Zagnut in your Whatchamacallit

2008-06-17T10:41:00.000-07:00

Harmless confection, or will Ronald McDonald pop out of the bag and obliterate my testicles?

Let’s find out!

(Update: Testicles are fine.)

(Update to the update: That’s what she said)

Thought for the day:

2008-06-13T10:50:00.000-07:00

I hate political correctness. Case in point: when you call someone retarded and then somebody gives you a glare that could burn a whole in titanium and tells you that those kind of people should be referred to as “mentally challenged”.

Sorry, being “mentally challenged” means not being able to figure out what 4 down on the TV Guide Crossword Puzzle is.

When you shit in your pants, give it a name and take it shopping for shoes, you’re fucking “retarded”.

The way we were

2008-06-10T09:00:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, if any of you are still reading this increasingly dusty corner of the blogosphere, I would like to apologize for the lack of posts. There’s been a recent event in my family that has kind of put a damper on my blogging and life in general.

As I’ve never been one to keep much from you, I might as well come out with it.

A very close friend (we refer to each other as “cousins” due to my mom having been married to his aunt), was recently arrested for sexually abusing the daughters of his fiancé over the course of a year. This has been especially hard on his family, of course, who would never have thought him capable of something like this. Allow me to put a few things in perspective for you.

Over the past couple of years, my family (my daughters, myself, and my fiancé) has spent many weekends and practically every holiday with him and his family (his wife and her/their children). We grew very close and shared every aspect of our lives with each other, trying to be a shoulder to lean on in times of need and crisis.

On a more personal level, I would have to say that he was probably my best friend. Prior to having families of our own, we went to high school together and partied together. As our lives took their natural course, we grew up and began to build families of our own and began to relate to each other on more mature levels. We were there for each other when no one else was. I knew I could call him if I ever needed anything, and he the same.

Naturally, I’ve been wrestling with several emotions after all this came to my attention. I feel betrayed. I feel like the upstanding person I knew was a lie. Knowing my sensitivity to issues such as sexual abuse, he continued to look me in the eye as if nothing was going on. No hint of guilt every betrayed what was going on. He kept those girls prisoners in their home and I never realized it. I mistook fear and distrust for strictness. I mistook the girls’ acting out as a sign of a lack of attention, when in fact they were getting the worst possible kind all along.

I feel pity for those poor girls that were subjected to this and cried out for help, but no one heard them. Practically every weekend I saw them, and hoped that their “dad” would become more involved with their development, when in fact he was doing one of the worst possible things he could do to them. Now all I can think of is the damage this has done to them, how long it’s going to take them to come to terms with it and all the therapy that it will require.

I feel guilt for not sensing something else was going on. Of all people, I thought that I would have some kind of radar for this. I wish I could have been able to discover this and get them out sooner. I know now that they were silently reaching out for someone to save them, to put a stop to the nightmare. Why couldn’t I have helped them? Was there more to those tight hugs they would give me? Did they secretly hope that we would be able to do something, knowing that I did something similar for my girls? I feel like I let them down. I hope to God they can forgive me for not knowing what was going and putting a stop to it.

I feel rage: the purest form of rage that can only come from being betrayed by someone close to you. I want to take him by the neck and punish him for what he has done to these children. I want to make him make me understand how he could do this and then I want to punish him for trying to excuse it. I want to pound on the glass that would separate us and curse him for inflicting this on his family and children. I want to see him cry and beg forgiveness and deny him that forgiveness. I want him to feel the pain he has caused these wonderful children. I want him to drown in the tears of his family.

I also feel hope. I hope that these girls will find a new beginning. A new, better life that will afford them the opportunities they have missed: a future that is welcoming, warm and that will allow them to finally be themselves. I’ve seen their intelligence, their talent and that part of themselves where they’ve hidden the best pieces of themselves. I hope that it can find its way out again. They’ve been placed with loving relatives, and although I know it is a colossal responsibility, I know they are up to the task. Hopefully once they are placed back with their mother, she will be able to handle things from there.

This wasn’t the way I wanted to make my return to regular posts, but I know that if I didn’t do this I wouldn’t be able to do anything else.

I know this is a long post, but hey, it’s my blog after all.

I SHIT YOU NOT

2008-06-09T11:59:00.000-07:00

I was just asked to be a sperm donor.

A forever kind of thing

2008-05-27T12:24:00.000-07:00

I hope you read this, I really do. This is the kind of thing that is too complex to try and express in a 5 minute conversation while moving furniture. I’m really not even sure where to begin, so I guess one spot is as good another.

Your daughter needs you. You’re just now beginning to see the damage that a lack of attention/affection can cause. This last incident is only the tip of the iceberg. She is such a beautiful, intelligent girl and it pains me to think of what she can become versus what she will become if things continue the way they are. She so desperately needs a daddy I can feel it radiating from her every time I see her. She doesn’t need the disciplinarian right now; she needs a hug, a kiss, a whisper that she is beautiful, intelligent and truly matters. If you do not begin to provide these to her on a daily basis, she’ll soon find somewhere else to look for it. As hard as it may seem to open up and be sensitive, vulnerable and compassionate, the alternative is much worse. I look at all of you and there is such wonderful potential there, but potential that may be squandered if steps aren’t taken. By this I don’t mean baby steps. These are long, painful steps to be taken that must be taken. Gone is the time for half measures and band aids. I know that right now it may seem like the world is against you, but to her you and her mom are her world, and right now she is an island that’s slowly going to drift off until she’s too far to reach and all you can do is watch her spirit wither away.

I see in you so many wonderful possibilities. You have such passion and intelligence, and I envy that of you. I hate to see it wasted while self pity and doubt rule your actions. There is no room for get rich quick ideas and half baked home business endeavors. Once you have the solid foundation that your family needs, then you can begin to consider other options. But right now you stand on the edge of disaster and every moment of hesitation is a crack beneath your feet. I will be there to support you and council you, but I cannot be you. No one else can.

Your wife: There are so very few women like her in the world; Beautiful, intelligent women that will truly stand by their husband’s side through the worst of times. While you must bear the weight of the world on your shoulders, she’ll be there to encourage you, wipe the sweat from your brow, and sometimes take the weight from your shoulders for a while. Treasure this. Imagine the worst times of your life. Now, imagine those same moments without her by your side. What you two have is what most people spend decades looking for.

All of this will amount to nothing if the two of you are not supporting each other. Presenting a unified front to your kids is vitally important. Undermining the other’s authority or negating it altogether is disastrous to a family’s stability. Your kids have to know that dad’s word is mom’s word and mom’s word is dad’s word. There cannot be secrets or deceptions, even with the best of intentions. There cannot be a restriction placed on how much of a parent someone can be. You’re either a parent, or you’re not. The blame for the failure of a family cannot be placed squarely on the shoulders of one person. If it could, then it was never a family to begin with.

I think of all of you daily and I wish that I could do more.

My name is Jonas, I'm carrying the wheel

2008-05-19T12:01:00.000-07:00

Meet the newest member of the Martinez/Quintana family.

Jonas Ryan Martinez
Born to: William and Kristina Martinez
Born: May 16, 2008
Weight: 5 pounds (4.5 of which is all penis, by the way).
Length: 18 inches (oddly enough, he’s hung like a 4.5 pound can of tuna)

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go plan for his 18th birthday party in Tiajuana.

Your future is in my hands, America

2008-05-02T09:58:00.000-07:00

Just thought I'd let ya'll know that little ol' me will be directly responsible for determining the course of our country this election.

I just submitted my application to be the supervisor of a polling location in Orange County for the upcoming primaries on June 3rd. Why, you ask?

WHY?! Because this country has lost its way! WHY?! We’ve become a gaggle of directionless, mewling sheep! WHY?! We'll happily give anyone their fifteen minutes of fame as long as it will distract us from the gaping black pits that are our lives. Anyone with a debilitating heroine addiction, a vagina the size of the Chrysler building, or a talentless MySpace whore can instantly be rocketed to stardom as long as they give us a few fleeting moments of escape…WHY?!

...I’ll get $130.00 on top of my regular pay.

Godtopus Bless America!

Blogging in a vacuum

2008-04-28T07:41:00.000-07:00

Hey freaks and geeks, sorry I've been MIA for a while. To be honest with you, I've been in kind of a blogging slump. I haven't had the motivation or time to blog in the last couple of weeks due to work and my near crippling addiction to playing Bioshock on my 360. Which, by the way, I just beat after a 6 hour marathon on Friday. I got the “bad” ending, though, for “harvesting” too many Little Sisters. The “bad” ending being the one in which I take over Rapture and use its gene spliced denizens to overtake a submarine carrying nuclear warheads. W00t! Because I know you’re all DYING to know about my video game obsession. Ain't 'cha?

However, I would like to bring a few tidbits of info to your attention that haven't merited a full blown blog post:

1. Had to have Mrs. Disco explain to my daughters what a "douche" is, after my oldest jokingly referred to someone as said feminine product. And then told her to never use that word again.

2. Finally resolved to tell my brother what a douche he is for not calling/visiting more often. Then proceeded to flake on meeting up with him. Twice. If anyone asks, it was an object lesson. Yeah.

3. 8 shopping days left until my birthday!! Thanks to Google Stat tracker, I’ll be compiling a list of the emails of all of my lovely commenters and sending out a list of birthday gift options. You’re welcome, America.

4. Heard that my ex had broken her toe. Then found out that she only broke her toe nail. Color me disappointed.

5. Heard that my brother wants to plan my bachelor party in Las Vegas. Sorry, buddy. To be honest with you, I'm just fucking over partying in Vegas unless it's with other couples. I mean, other than watching shows and getting some good eats, the only other activity to Vegas is trolling for random poonanny. And I'm not even sure I spelled poonanny right. My idea of the perfect bachelor party would be a bunch of my friends gathering at somebody's house, gettin' some good cigars, bbq'ing, playing Halo, and getting drunk. Is that too much to ask? Didn't think so. Make it happ'n, cap'n.

Also, here are some snippits of an IM with Mr. Meat:

me: who's got two thumbs and every other Friday off? THIS guy!
Mr. Meat: big deal, it's not like you work anyway
me: ...this is true
yet it still stings. Much like that fissure in your ass.
:)
I am going to wake up at 6 in the morning tomorrow JUST so I can turn my Xbox on and stare at the dashboard. Why? Cuz I CAN.
Mr. Meat: bastard
me: Have fun at work tomorrow, wage monkey
by the way, I may kill my upstairs neighbors
Mr. Meat: nice
Jerkface
me: God Bless Parissa, but her people are kinda jerks.
Mr. Meat: [gasp]
racism!
me: My upstairs Persian neighbors were up til 11 playing what could only be Persian Techno
I could picture them and their little rat demon dog rolling on the floor rubbing each other's faces with koosh balls
Mr. Meat: using glow-sticks
me: I'm trying to take down an underwater city and it's tyrannical creator, and they're up there with their grandma and mickey mouse gloves
YOU tell ME who takes priority
go ahead
I'll wait
Mr. Meat: well... i mean... a city needs a hero
even an underwater one
me: DAMNED SKIPPY

Perfect Strangers

2008-04-14T14:00:00.000-07:00

(From left to right: Matt, Mrs. Disco, Yours truly, Jayne, Chez)

For those of you that may be unaware, a dear friend and the inspiration for my own blogging, Chez Pazienza, has finally completed his memoir, Dead Star Twilight. He has been working on this memoir for longer than I have known him, and Chez is an immensely talented writer, a devoted husband and soon to be daddy for the second time. The memoir is available for download via his blog, Deus Ex Malcontent. Until recently, Chez was a producer at CNN on their American Morning show. Citing a violation of company policy that conflicted with his keeping of a personal blog, he was unceremoniously fired from his position and has been subsisting ever since off of a diet of White Castle burgers and Tang. He lives with his wife Jayne and the soon to be newest addition to their clan in Manhattan, New York.

I actually met the lovely couple last year when they were in town due to a work function Jayne was attending. Mrs. Disco and I met them at Lola's in Hollywood. In an odd (by "odd" I mean I invited a perfect stranger to spend the weekend in my home on his way out of the country. What, me worry?) set of circumstances, another blogger, Matt of A Bowl of Stupid, was spending the weekend at our home on his way out of the country on some vision quest/find myself thingy, so he was also along for the ride. More on that at another time.

We met for drinks and dinner, and very stimulating conversation. Over the course of our meal, the conversation drifted from talking about our kids, psychopathic ex's, Matt and I dubbing Chez's drink a Zebra semen martini, to us seeing who could make the most obscure pop culture references. Much of the night is a martini induced haze, but I'm pretty sure that round one went to Chez.

We ended the night at The Standard Hotel, where Jayne and Chez were holed up for the weekend. The drinks continued to flow, and many show tunes were sung by Mrs. Disco and Jayne. Nothing says "Hollywood Chic" like a medley of songs from The Sound of Music, let me tell you.

I can tell you that without a doubt, that Chez and Jayne are a phenomenal couple. They deserve every success that comes their way, and it would warm the corners of my cold, cold heart if you would visit his blog and download a copy of the memoir.

Pretty please?

*Update: You can now read a review of Dead Star Twilight on Pajiba.

Fuckin' Chuck Norris!

2008-04-11T14:23:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack of updates, folks. I've been in kind of a blogging slump as of late. But fear not, for I may have something post worthy after this Monday. You see, I am joining my first ever sport league this Monday. What sport is it, you ask?

Why, dodgeball, of course.

(Let the ball/face jokes commence)

Monday Office Haiku

2008-04-07T11:26:00.001-07:00

Think outside the box?
I work in a cubicle
Go fuck yourself, dude

Monkey at keyboard
Typing for your amusement
The feces will fly

Billboards on freeway
Marketing my life away
Hooter's hot wings suck

Meeting dragging on
Sharpie marker high feels great
Drug test would suck balls

Friday morning nookie

2008-03-28T09:36:00.000-07:00

Hah! Got your attention. You're so easy, but that's why I love you in the face. A very dear friend or mine, Girl with Curious Hair, has setup a new blog at Blog Me a Tale of which I and some other far more talented bloggers are contributors to. Each month will have a theme under which we'll be contributing stories. This month (March) is Open Mic, so we're putting up whatever we feel like. I'm sure everyone would appreciate it if you would stop by, check out the great stories that have been posted there thus far and show some support. Plus, the first ones to comment receive *$10,000.00 Disco Dollars and a set of one of those rear window stickers depicting you and all your hellspawn (if any) as hilarious stick figures.

*Exchange rate equal to .00000001 U.S Dollars.

Wherein I get pwned by a moon bounce

2008-03-25T12:27:00.000-07:00

Seeing as how I seem to somehow have attracted some new readers (and I'm both lazy and have nothing new to post), I thought that I would repost the video that made me the Internet juggernaut that I am today. But first let me set this up for you n00bs: The video was taken at the birthday party for my cousin's daughter. My cousin and I were on the roof after having strung up a piñata for the kids, and were looking for a way down as the ladder used to get up was a bit to short to climb down onto. Naturally, the bounce house that was so conveniently setup for the kids provided both a soft landing, and YouTube material.

And now, for your viewing pleasure I give to you…me.

It's raining Puerto Ricans
Uploaded by mannmartinez

Monday Office Haiku

2008-03-24T12:07:00.000-07:00

Monkey swings on branch.
Why does the hippo hate me?
Printer ink in eye.

Doctor can save me
Prostate can kill a man in time
Why is finger brown?

Two men in a boat
Food cannot last much longer
Two men and one cup?

Sun sets over me
The ocean is on fire
Skin cancer's a bitch.

With great power comes 3 times the chance for heart failure

2008-03-20T08:38:00.000-07:00

I'm sittin' here at my desk, staring at this bottle of Berry Flavor Fusion Instant Energy that I picked up at a local AM/PM. The neon blue wrapper and image of an exploding atom tell me that this can't possibly be good for me. It claims to have "3x Energy Power"…but 3 times more than what? Three times more energy power than the average person? Three times more energy power than a crackhead on a 3 day binge? They say with great power comes great responsibility, but I really don't look good in tights and I shirk responsibility at the earliest opportunity. I don't know if I can handle over 6 hours of power.

The Rundown:
Calories: 8. Eff you, South Beach Diet. Hah!
Sodium: 10mg
Vitamin C: 100mg. Wow, according to the label this is 167% of my Daily Value.
Niacin: 33mg. Glorious, glorious Nia…waitaminute. 165% of my Daily Value?! Color me apprehensive.
Vitamin B6: 40mg. Um, hey folks…that’s 2,000% of my Daily Value. That’s a two and three zero's after it.
Folic Acid: 400mcg. Okay, not so bad. We're at 100% of my Daily Value. Luckily I keep my Folic Acid intake to a minimum. Yeah right.
Vitamin B12: 500mcg. That's not much more than the Folic…oh my sweet Jeebus. 8,333%. Does that make sense to ANYONE??
Phytomic Energy Blend: 2,100mg. According to the label, that includes Taurine, Caffeine, and lots of other stuff with een at the end and more syllables than an East European kid's name.

After reading this, I've deduced that these ingredients are probably 3 times more than a normal human can withstand before being reduced to a quivering sack of liquefied innards. I guess this means I'll get some time off work .

I am officially crapping my pants.

09:00 a.m. (PST) – Doesn’t smell bad. Definitely smells like something berry flavored. Bottoms up: Ugh, tastes like berry flavored Nyquil. It definitely leaves a berry flavored taste of artificial sweetener in your mouth.

09:45 a.m. (PST) - Nothing yet. These types of energy drinks usually hit me within the first 40 minutes. It might be the breakfast I had slowing it down. I have another one sitting on my desk, taunting me. If I get enough votes for it, I'll take the second one just for shits and giggles. And a coronary.

10:20 a.m. (PST) – Ok, this blows. I'm not feeling a damned thing. Looks like three bucks down just went down the crapper. How am I going to explain to my oldest daughter that I blew her college fund on a bad energy drink? Hold the phone. As I'm typing this my stomach started to flutter and my hands are getting a bit tingly. Maybe this just takes longer to kick in. I'll update again soon.

11:25 A.M. (pst) – Alright folks, we have another dud. I do feel slightly more alert, but definitely no elevated mood, no rapid heartbeat, no rush of blood to the face or any extremities whatsoever, and the tingly sensation from earlier dissipated almost as fast as it came on.

Overall: Three bucks officially down the crapper. No super powers developed, and I still don't look good in tights. Avoid this one unless you're unusually susceptible to energy drinks.

Jackie Chan wants me dead

2008-03-19T09:03:00.000-07:00

Okey dokey folks. Seeing as how the last little experiment didn't kill me, next on the list is the XGT Energy Green Tea (with "natural lemon flavor"?)Drink Mix featuring none other than the drunken master himself, Jackie Chan. I found this little gem at a local 99 cent store, so that should be my first clue. The second would be that the tag line on the packaging is "Tea with a Kick!" Oy vey.

The packaging is giving me mixed messages: either I'm going to be attacked by a diminutive Asian man with a bad haircut, or I'm going to turn into a diminutive Asian man with a bad haircut as soon as I mix this with a bottle of water.

The Rundown:
Vitamin B2 – 10%
Vitamin B3 – 10%
Vitamin B5 – 10%
Vitamin B6 – 10%
Vitamin B12 – 10%
Vitamin C – 100%
Ginseng
Taurine
Green Tea Extract – Which is high in "flavonoid antioxidants", according to the packaging. Anybody remember The 'Noid from those old Domino's Pizza Commercials? Little fucker creeped me the hell out. Maybe this will help keep him from ruining my enjoyment of Domino's Pizza…if I (or anyone) were actually capable of enjoying Domino's Pizza.

SO, I've got enough B vitamins to start my own pharmacy, along with Ginseng and some more Bull Sperm. Yay me.

09:01 a.m. (PST) Bottoms up: OH. MY. GOD. This stuff tastes like a bottle full of ass juice…with a hint of lemon. Eww, now I've got that aftertaste of Splenda and Lemon…with a hint of ass. Gah.

10:04 a.m.(PST) - What the hell!? I'm getting hot flashes and my stomach feels like two little Jackie Chan's are having a free for all in there...ugh. Is this what it feels like to be Asian? I don't notice any sudden martial arts skills, nor is my ability so speak English or drive a car impaired.

10:57 a.m. (PST) - Ok. This stuff SUCKS. With a capital FUCKING. I feel horrible, I was a little jittery for about 5 minutes, and now I can't get that Splenda taste out of my mouth. However, I think my math skills have improved and I now have a sudden afinity for import cars and flat chested women with Hello Kitty backpacks.

13:00 (PST) – Hai-yah! I mean, uh, not really feeling any more “energized” than I did this morning. Which is to say, Konichiwa!...whoa, I mean not at all. I definitely feel different, though. My hair seems to be much smoother and manageable. I’ve also having strange urges to jump over cars, and engage in intricately choreographed fight scenes with my co workers. Me love you long time!

Overall: At 99 cents for a pack of 3 tubes, you definitely get your money's worth. Tastes like juice from the anus. Didn't know I would turn Asian in less than 4 hours. Increase in my martial arts skill is appreciated, though useless in the office. Strange craving for pigs feet.

*Further updates as the day progresss...gah.

That sound you hear is my heart exploding. Weee!

2008-03-17T09:10:00.000-07:00

So, here goes. I walked into my corner 7-Eleven last night to pick up what is surely going to be the first nail in my coffin. I didn’t make a straight line to the cash register, instead I wandered around the store aimlessly, fiddling with magazines, looking at the expiration dates on prepackaged sandwiches and burritos, and trying to see if they still carried the good porno mag’s I remembered.

Anyway, here’s the rundown on what goes into this shot of Satan’s Urine:

Vitamin B6 – It's used in the creation of DNA! Maybe if I mix this in my kid’s chemistry kit I can finally create that super stripper I’ve been working on.
Vitamin B12 – Someone got an award for studying it!
Niacin – Apparently, it can cause itchiness and skin redness…this can't be good.
Folic Acid – Another DNA maker! Rise, Chastity, rise! Bwahahahahahaaaaaaa!
Citicoline (?) – Apparently, this does all kinds of good stuff for the brains. Wai thu hell wood Eye neeed dat?
Tyrosine – A "mood elevator"? Now THIS has possibilities.
Phenylalanine – Is it bad/good that this thing has TWO mood elevators?
Taurine – Good ol' Taurine. Someone once told me that it comes from bull sperm. I’m obviously ignoring that person.
Malic Acid – Helps remove aluminum and phosphorous from the body. I've really got to cut back on eating soda cans apparently.
Glucuronolactone – Sounds like a Klingon that's Lactose intolerant. Hey-o!
Caffeine – Hey! A word I can actually pronounce. My Doctologist said caffeine is better than milk.

09:00 a.m. (PST) – Opened bottle and took a whiff. Yup, smells like Satan’s urine alright. Having second thoughts about this. Oh well, all in the name of scientifical stuff (and traffic). Bottoms up.

09:34 a.m. (PST) - My hands are all tingly and I feel kinda hot (and not in the "I'm wearing a thong" way). Feel a bit "amped" but not the cracked out kind of amped I thought I'd be.

10:10 a.m. (PST) - Cracked out, meet Manny. Manny, cracked out. Seriously, folks, I could run the L.A. Marathon right now, die from heart failure, and I wouldn't even know I was dead. Wooooohooooo! This is life! Fuckin' aye! Rock on! WOooooohOOooooo!

11:40 a.m. (PST) – Still feel pretty amped. So far so good. The tingly sensation in my hands comes and goes. My heart's beating faster than TK in the bathroom at an all midget topless review. I'm in a pretty good right now, so those double doses of mood elevators are obviously working.

1:50 p.m. (PST) – Everyone at work has been asking me why I was in such a good mood…fuckers. Feeling kinda' tired now. I guess they weren't kidding about the whole "5 hour" thing. God damned sunsabitches. Life sucks. Puppies suck. I hate babies. There's no such thing as love. I hope you're all happy now, I think I'm hooked on those mood elevators. Any one got a Red Bull? Monster? How about a spoonful of coffee grounds?

Fuckers.

Overall: At $3.29 for a 2oz bottle, the standard flavor tasted like Satan's pee, but went down just as easily. Stayed true to its promise of 5 hour energy, although I was left feeling hollow and alone. Could have used a hug at the four hour fifty nine minute mark. Loved the mood elevators, but I may need to attend an N.A. meeting or go into rehab if I keep this up.

The more you suffer, the more it shows you really care...right?

2008-03-13T10:44:00.000-07:00

My never ending quest to conquer the interwebs continues, people. I’ve decided to horn in on Marvo’s territory and dip my dainty little toe into the welcoming waters of product review. In case you’re wondering, the answer is "No"; I’m not getting paid and or compensated for this. So why am I doing it, you ask? Because I love you like a fat kid loves cake. Like Rosie O’Donnell loves eating newborn babies. Like Britney Spears loves riding paparazzi schlong, Lindsay Lohan loves schlong covered in coke, and Perez Hilton loves, well, just schlong in general (suck on THAT, Google Search).

Starting on Monday, I will be subjecting my finely chiseled physique to various energy boosting supplements on a daily basis. First on the list will be various "5 Hour" energy drinks. Yeah, you know the ones. The little bottles hovering at the liquor store counter, praying on your impulse shopping compulsion, just sitting in their little racks, all cozy and warm with promises of all day energy and enough Niacin to give a rhino a heart attack. Also, I’ll be ingesting those "Nitro 2 Go" pill packs, with the crackhead packaging and vaguely illegal look about them.

I’ll ingest one of these energy boosting products at the beginning of my work day and updating this blog with my physical condition throughout the day. At the end of the day I’ll post a summary of the products overall effect and my opinion of said item.

Should one of my posts start off fine and turn into "…at around 12:00 I began to feell aguikmdngolkdgaljdk;aaa smd[0q UWIJ…", that means I just had a heart attack and I’m face down on my keyboard. Please call an ambulance.

Office Pace II

2008-02-29T10:00:00.000-08:00

1. The old lady (Fartsy McTootsalot) training me has perpetual dry mouth. Whenever she speaks to me all I hear are those lip smacky noises.

2. One of the nicer ladies in the office wears belly hugging clothing that she really has no business wearing. I repeat, super nice lady, but she has a serious case of booty-do...her belly sticks our more than her booty do. I think it’s possible she may be pregnant, but come on, how much can a moo moo cost?

3. My computer will mysteriously power down on its own at random times. Oh, did you just type up a three page report that has to get to court in 10 minutes? Let me shut down really quick so you can lose all of your work, mkay? Fucker.

4. The other old lady that sits in the next cubicle refuses to close her mouth when she is eating chips at her desk. It’s like nails on motherfucking chalkboard to me.

5. One of the other workers here will stand right outside my cubicle, holding a file, knowing full well that I’m on a break and tell me they have a report they need typed before the last run for court. Fuck you, man. Just because you’re the resident gay guy doesn’t make it ok for you to be an ass hat. Seriously folks, the dude is so gay he practically sets the carpet on fire. Not that there is anything wrong with being gay, but MAN...we're talkin' a whole lotta gayness right there. On the I Love Schlong scale, 1 cock being Anderson Cooper and 10 cocks being that gay comedian that's always on VH1, this guy is probably a 14.

That being said, what annoys you at your place of work? Also, I am declaring today Delurker Day!! That's right folks, if you've never commented at the Disco, but have been reading, please feel free to step out of line and move into the VIP section. All lurkers that delurk will receive a Hispanic! At The Disco commemorative plate featuring moi*.

*Not really.

Wherein I wear my e-heart on my e-sleeve III

2008-02-25T14:58:00.000-08:00

I would like to warn anyone reading this that some of it may be a bit graphic, a bit too descriptive for some tastes. However, in order to truly express the seriousness of this, I will be leaving few details out. This all picks up after the longest blog post in history.

Shortly after introducing Kristine to the girls, and sharing my time with the girls with her, we began to notice certain things when it came to them (the girls).

Hindsight being what it is I should have caught these signs much, much sooner.

Whenever we would pick up the girls for my weekend visits, they would consistently have a distinct…odor. Whether it be sweat, or what we refer to as the “puppy” smell, or in one particular instance a very distinct odor of urine. Many were the occasions where we would rush back home with them (windows rolled down) and immediately have them take showers and change their clothes. After time, they would mention proudly that they did, in fact, take A shower that week. As in ONE. Also, I was never allowed in the house when I would pick up the girls. They were either at the door waiting for me, or she would open the door and stand in the door way and call them.

Let me clarify what my emotional state was at that point- I had recently lost my mother to cancer, been asked to move out by her partner (mostly due to the immense amount of grief she suffered at the loss of my mother), spent half of my income in child support, and the other half on rent. I literally did not have an extra dime to my name. This translated into feeling as though my hands were tied. I was simply grateful that I had survived another week and had the opportunity to see my girls. I had resigned myself to my fate as a weekend father, with no significant other to share my time with.

Now, back to the girls. At about the same time, the girls had told me that the electricity in their mothers home had been off for days, that they woke to nothing under the Christmas tree at their mothers’ house that previous Christmas (except the food basket and gifts the PTA at their elementary school had dropped off), and there would be days where the only food they had was the free breakfast/lunch that the school provided. Of course, a little voice in the back of my head would silently ask “What the hell was going on over there?” There really wasn’t much I could do. I was giving her/them as much as I could (even though she never failed to ask for more) and still live.

The girls lived in a home with their mother, their 5 and 2 year-old half brothers, and their mother’s boyfriend, none of whom brought in any additional income at the time to support themselves, by the way. Needless to say, they were subsisting off of my child support and whatever handouts they received. Most would say I should have done something right away—you’d 100% be right, but I was living hand to mouth, even losing a few fingers every now and then. I felt alone, and imprisoned—lucky to simply share the weekends with them. I cannot tell you, mothers have no idea the power they wield over their ex’s when children are the ammunition.

Things were bad, and then they got worse.

At one point my ex had confessed to me that her boyfriend had been cheating on her with at least one other woman (Karma, meet Larissa, Larissa meet Karma. You two are gonna be GREAT pals really soon), and that he had been physically abusing her. I offered to get her in touch with some battered women resources, but that went nowhere. Kristine and I decided at this point we needed to have open conversation with the girls with regards to what is acceptable relationship behavior.

We started a “circle of truth”. We sat in a circle, and we each shared something personal. The only rule was that no one was to be punished or judged for what they were sharing. Sounds simple, but it allowed for the children to open up in ways I’d never imagined. It was obvious that they had been trained to not share information with me, so it became Kristine’s responsibility to communicate what we both felt was necessary. It may sound manipulative, but I was being stonewalled at every turn, and I had to make sure they were not being victimized themselves.

Another odd behavior we had noticed was that my oldest daughter (Danielle) had developed “ticks” (as her mother described them). She grunted, clicked her teeth, forcefully blinked her eyes, talked like a baby, and constantly moved her fingers and hands in a counting motion (index finger to thumb, middle finger to thumb, etc). Not. Good. But all these things had developed over time, and I had grown accustomed to them. Kristine, being new to the situation, recognized them for what they were and had suggested therapy. Having been the beneficiary of very productive therapy sessions after breaking up with my ex, I readily agreed and began to look into the matter.

The very day that Kristine was moving into my place, my youngest daughter (Marissa – age 7 at the time) came to Kristine to tell her that the elderly man that had been paying to park and live in his RV on their mother’s driveway had been sexually molesting child Danielle (my age 9 at the time). Apparently Marissa had walked in, told her mother, and he was supposed to move out. Soon. Kristine immediately told me.

At this point I cannot even begin to express to those of you reading this the depths of the anger, betrayal, confusion, and sheer brutish rage I felt at that time. Only a father could even hope to understand what I was thinking at that moment. I felt lethal.

The next day I called their mother from work to confront her with what I’d learned. She categorically denied everything, and told me that Kristine was trying to feed information to the kids, and that she would no longer allow them to visit me if she were present. I informed Kristine of this and she called her to confront her, at which point Larissa confessed to everything. She said that the man would be moving out, and that he really wasn’t even around all that often. She also admitted that she was about six months pregnant with her fifth child. Taking her at her word, I continued with situation as it were. Of course all of this was going through my mind on a daily basis. It was impossible to think, work, even function properly with the knowledge that my child was being hurt.

One week later we had a birthday party for my Marissa. Kristine picked up the girls, who looked abnormally groomed (she actually combed their hair….seriously, I think it had been about six months since she’d done it herself). Dressed in cute little skirts, they were ready to get their party on. Maybe things were better.

While on the freeway to our place, one of the girls asked Kristine if there were any panties at our house since they didn’t have any on. I repeat - THIS WOMAN HAD A PEDOPHILE LIVING ON HER DRIVEWAY, AND SHE HAD MY GIRLS RUNNING AROUND IN SKIRTS WITH NO PANTIES.

Enough was enough.

After a very lengthy discussion with Kristine over the action I would take and their likely consequences, I called the Department of Social Services that very evening.

The local sheriff visited the mother’s home with a social worker in tow, and proceeded to question the son of bitch living on the driveway, who admitted everything. Now at the time he thought it was my ex that had called the police, so he returned the favor. He informed the social worker and police of the living conditions in the girls’ mother’s home that I was not privy to.

Some of information detailed by the investigating social worker was provided to me during our first hearing is as follows(this will be graphic, but I hope you understand the fire of disgust that still burns in me three years later)

1. Danielle had been molested by the older man since she could walk/talk (this was an old family friend, who at one time lived with my grandmother) and she felt it was necessary to allow it since the sonofabitch was paying to live on the driveway on her mother needed the money.
2. The condition of the house was described as “third-world conditions”.
3. No food was in the home.
4. Pornography was strewn throughout the common areas, and she would frequently have pornographic videos playing, or magazines around..
5. Both my ex and her boyfriend would leave the children alone in the evening for hours at a time.
6. The children had watched her get kicked in the stomach, and punched in the face by her BF.
7. Marissa would often have to wear her mother’s clothing to school because there was nothing else clean. Oh, and on more than one occasion she found a crack pipe (“Drug Paraphernalia) in the pockets of various articles of clothing.
8. Marissa had witnessed her mother having drug induced episodes where she thought there were people outside the home and made the children turn off the lights and stay quiet.

And yes, their mother was using crack cocaine AND she was six months pregnant (the baby still receives physical therapy, and had to wear a helmet for about 6 months).

The girl that I never thought I’d find moves in with me—and three weeks later, BOOM, instant family. We were happy to have them, but it has not been an easy task or transition. The Social Worker placed the girls with me since I was the bio-dad and could house them properly. I made every effort to let my ex’s family know that they were very welcome to see the girls whenever they wanted and made them available for phone calls and visits. Their grandfather on their mother’s side came once. An aunt promised some old clothes that never materialized.

We proceeded to make their new home as welcoming and secure as we could. We bought for them new beds, new clothes, accessories for their room, you name it. This was going to be their island where no one could hurt them and dad was always around. We enrolled them in the local elementary schools and began to look for extracurricular activities for them. Sounds great, right? Sure.

On several occasions we questioned our own judgment (read: sanity) and seriously considered the easier path of just letting the girls move back with their mother. This usually followed especially difficult/emotional confrontations with the girls over disobedience, acting out, or my own arguments with their mother. While Danielle had grown more introverted, Marissa had grown increasingly protective of her mother. She had developed a need to protect her mother that manifested itself in constant references to wanting to live with her mother. As an adult, I couldn’t fathom why she had this desire, but from a child’s standpoint it was perfectly logical: Mommy needed help. If she only knew.

At some point Marissa had been verbally chastised by her mother for sharing with Kristine what she had witnessed. She had told Marissa that she “told the wrong person”. Even though Marissa had probably saved her sisters’ life by telling the truth, this woman (I use that term “woman” loosely) berated her for it. On one very clear occasion, as we sat in the lobby of the DCFS (Department of Children and Family Services) awaiting the completion of my LiveScan, she approached us (myself, Kristine, and both girls), pointed at me and told the girls “He’s why you’re not staying with me”. All of this caused added to the wall of resentment building between Marissa and Kristine. Marissa couldn’t be mad at her dad, so she had to direct her anger at someone. Many times she was blatantly hostile and defiant to Kristine. These days, people often think that Kristine is Marissa’s bio-mom because they have such similar personalities (the good parts, not the hostile ones). The hostility only subsided in recent months due to much communication on all of our parts.

As a result of the investigation by Social Services, their two half-brother’s were then placed in foster care. The ex went to a recovery home for mothers, and her boyfriend went to rehab as well. We fulfilled our obligation to drive the girls to visit their mother in rehab, even though it was more than an hour drive each way. The girls enjoyed their visits, even though taking them to see their mother in rehab left a sour taste in my mouth. Her “poor me” attitude and her family of enablers continued to inoculate her against any true feelings of guilt or remorse over her inability to protect her daughters.

Over the course of the next few months, the two half brothers were switched to two more foster homes after the 5 year-old was caught acting out sexually with another boy that was in the care of the foster family (that’s a whole other basket of issues). Initially, Social Services had done what they were supposed to in their investigation, but they didn’t have him physically evaluated to see if he had been sodomized after the incident. After he acted out again, they discovered their fuck up, and the spin control began. Within a week, the boys were back at home with their mother.

I couldn’t believe it was happening, but she was slowly getting her kids back. Kristine and I prepared ourselves for the worst (losing the girls to “Sybil”). We feared that all the work we had done in the past few months to help the girls adjust and come to terms with what had happened would be obliterated by their mother’s brainwashing. She still saw herself as the victim throughout the entire mess and her only goal was to have all FIVE of her kids back with her, regardless of whether or not she had a home, a stable job to pay for that home, and the means to provide for all five kids.

Then the day came for me to appear in court to hear the judges’ decision regarding our girls. I took one of my few remaining days off of work, put on one of my suits, and made the 45 minute drive to court. Alone. Kristine had used up all of her time off from work on previous court dates, and had to rely on me communicating updates to her via cell. I sat in the waiting area, watching the other broken families waiting around me awaiting their turn to come before the judge. For those of you that have never had to go to Family Court (count yourselves lucky, first of all), it is a singular experience. It’s one that rewards/curses you with the uncanny ability to spot the damaged and the broken. You can spot the fresh from rehab mother’s/father’s with their cobbled together outfits so as to present themselves as halfway decent. You can feel the tension between ex’s as they sit across from each other, silently cursing the other for putting them in this position.

And you wonder…How did I end up here? I’m a good person, right? Anyway…

I sat before the judge, my court appointed attorney next to me. I looked over her mountain of paperwork and files, and wondered at what point she stopped seeing names and started seeing case numbers. I silently prepared myself for the inevitable outcome. After doing some online research and visiting father’s rights advocacy sites, I had realized how minuscule my chances of keeping them were.

What happened next was probably one of the most terrifying, yet exhilarating moments of my life. The judge, very matter of fact-ly, terminated jurisdiction over my case and left both of the girls in my physical custody, with 50/50 split on legal custody. I was now a full time dad again.

My ex (whom we affectionately refer to as “Satan’s lap dog”), still sees the girls every other weekend. She seems to be off drugs, and they enjoy their time with her. She also finds time in her busy schedule of squirting out kids to criticize our parenting, but finds no additional time to attend a school dance, choir performance, softball game, or teacher conference. Her phones calls to the girls that occurred like clockwork every evening have dwindled to nothing. The girls occasionally receive calls from their 8 year old half-brother who speaks like a 3 year old and their soon to be pyromaniac 4 year old half-brother.

We, however, play Rock Band as family, refer to ourselves as “Team Martinez” and have family pictures hung on our walls with pride. Marissa is a star student and Danielle is on the track team, Honor Choir, and has two more Honor’s classes. Kristine gives more of herself to the girls on a daily basis than their own mother does, and I think they know it. I know there will undoubtedly be some discussion of these events when they get older, and we welcome it. We do have our ups and downs as a family, but they know this as their home, they have friends, they have a father and step mother that love them, and they know they are safe.

We did good.

*Update - Danielle just brought home certificates for making the Principal's Honor Roll, having Perfect Attendance, and several coupons for "Jean Day" and "Cut to the head of the line".

If I were you, I'd be in love with me too.

2008-02-22T07:54:00.000-08:00

Morning, true believers! I know it's been a while since my last post, but things at the new job have been pretty busy, so it's all I can do to keep myself awake long enough to play Halo 3 and Rock Band for 4 hours when I get home. However, it is Disco Day over at The 'Stache, so please do drop by and check it out. I will have something ready for your approval on Monday, so keep on keepin' on. Now, if you'll excuse me, some Brute's are about to storm my position and my Battle Rifle is down to 20 rounds. Fire in the hole!

Sunlight is overrated anyway

2008-02-11T11:27:00.000-08:00

You want me to do what? Stick it in? Ok.

What’s THIS hole for? Really? Lemme slide this in. Oh yeah, perfect fit.

You want to wrap that around my head? This part goes in front of my mouth, right? Sexy.

Touch you where? Whatever turns you on, baby. Does that turn you on? Good.

Oh God, that feels so good in my hands. What’s this little nob for?

Well, looks like you’re all warmed up and ready to play. I hope you can handle this.

Um, I hope you don't mind, but I brought some friends along. I thought they could, you know, join in...

Rock out with your Bock out

2008-02-07T16:22:00.000-08:00

Pardon the following unabashed product pimping, but Lobotomy Bock is THE BEST FUCKING BEER I HAVE EVER HAD. E-VER! I spotted this little beauty while strolling through a local Whole Foods Market beer section prior to heading over to my cousin’s house for an impromptu get together two weekends ago. Would you like to know what caught my attention besides the catchy name?

10.8% Alcohol by Volume.

Lemme repeat that, because I don’t think you heard me. 10.8% Alcohol by Volume.

To put that in more layman’s terms, here is a list of some popular beers and their approximate Alcohol by Volume:

Anchor Steam - 5.0%
Budweiser - 4.7%
Bud Ice - 5.5%
Corona - 4.8%
Guinness Draft - 4.1%
Heineken - 5.2%
Miller Lite - 4.2%
New Belgium Fat Tire - 5.3%
Newcastle Brown - 4.5%
Pabst - 4.9%
Pete's Wicked Ale - 5.2%
Rolling Rock - 4.6%
Samuel Adams Boston Lager - 4.75%
Sierra Nevada Pale Ale - 5.3%
Stella Artois - 5.2%
(by way of Realbeer)

Now, the average ABV of bock beers? 5.5-7.5%.

Lobotomy Bock has 10.8%. That's like, ummm...(carry the one...divide by four...what's the square root of 12?) LOTS more than the average bock.

And that’s in one (1) bottle, people. ONE. Believe you me, they are not lying. After one bottle, I was feeling G-O-O-D. Not only that, but it’s incredibly smooth, and goes great with the loaded burger patties that the meat department at Whole Foods carries. It’s brewed by Indian Wells Brewing Co., located at 2565 N. Highway 14, Inyokern, CA. You can check out the site for a full list of the different brews available.

Indian Wells Brewing Co, President Rick Lovett will be at the Whole Foods Market in El Segundo on PCH on February 24, 2008 from 3-7 p.m. pouring and talking about beers, so if anyone is in the area, stop by, say hello, and give Rick a pat on the back for making a kick ass beer. I'll be the guy in the corner trying to make out with a Ficus.

About a girl

2008-02-04T10:02:00.000-08:00

This was inspired by a conversation between parents last night over dinner.

A girl’s first love is her dad.
Dad is her knight in shining armor, her prince valiant, and her superhero rolled into one.
Dad is the one that will brave fire and death to save her.
Dad is invincible, super strong, and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound.
Dad is immortal.
Her first rose, her first door held open, her first chair being pulled out, should all come from dad.
Her first Valentine is dad.
Dad can breathe fire and kiss her boo-boo’s away at the same time.
Dad can fix anything. If he can’t fix it, then it’s not broken.
If her heart is broken, dad will give her his.
Dad will push her forward, and teach her how to pick herself up when she falls.

Dad is the rule by which all other men are judged.

Office Pace

2008-01-29T19:43:00.001-08:00

Hey folks, sorry about the lack of posts lately, but the new job has been running me ragged. They're also pretty adamant about no internet usage for personal stuff, so I've been accessing the internet only sparingly. However, I know all two of my readers can't get enough of me so here we go.

Here are a couple of incidents that occurred shortly after I started two Fridays ago that I found particularly amusing/horrifying:

1. Within three days of starting the new job, I lost both the temporary badge assigned to me AND the permanent one with my picture on it. I only just today received the replacement. See that? That's me impressing my new boss with my attention to detail.

2. I overhead the following phone conversation in the next cubicle

Co-worker:
"What? The latex one?

pause

Co-worker:
"That one's kind of flimsy, it'll slide all over the place"

pause

Co-worker:
"You'll never get it to fit"

3. The older woman training me farted. When she was right next to me. She apologized...and then proceeded to fan the fumes away with a manila folder. Never mind that I was sitting at my desk at the time and was at nose level with the folder. God, it smelled like a raccoon crawled up her ass, died, came back from the dead, ate a shit ton of taco bell and then crawled back up her ass and died again. Don't even get me started on her tea breath.

4. Whenever someone walks within 1 foot of my cubicle wall, my entire monitor wobbles from side to side and makes me want to vomit.

By the way, I went to play airsoft with my friend Eric this weekend. I had a great time with the A47 rifle and 1911 pistol, but by the end of our session (we started at 1 and ended at 3, which was about 4 or 5 games), my legs felt like lead weights. What does this mean for me now? Well, I've been walking around my office like Forrest Gump in leg braces, and making "worrrrg" sounds whenever I get up from my desk chair. The plus side, it was a great work out and I actually got a guy to surrender during my first game.

I'll post something more substantial later in the week, so please do check in. Please? Pretty please?? Only if I what? Oh God, don't make do that again? You promise you won't take pictures this time?

They never knew what hit 'em

2008-01-21T10:38:00.000-08:00

Hey folks, just so you know, tomorrow (and every 22nd day of the month thereafter) is Disco Day at Burt Reynolds' Mustache. Stop by, check it out, tell everyone how much you love it...'cuz you know you do.

Could I BE more disinterested?

2008-01-14T12:35:00.000-08:00

So, once I confirmed the job offer from the employer that shall remain nameless, I turned in my two weeks notice to my scatter-brained boss. This was about a week and a half ago, and I've basically been running out the clock ever since. It's very liberating, I must tell you. I guess this would be the "Acceptance" stage if I had a terminal illness. No visible tattoo's according to the dress code? Guess who's been wearing short sleeved shirts? No jeans? That's too bad, becauase I've been lookin' damn sexy in mine for the last week and a half. I'm seriously considering coming in to work drunk at this point.

I called in to my HR department and confirmed that I have about two and a half days of time off that I have accrued since I started. Today is Monday. I start the new job on Friday...

Hmmmmmmmm.

I'm seriously considering just using those up rather than having to drive to Torrance for the next three days and help with some file archiving. I mean, come on! Fucking Torrance?! That's just taking advantage, man. Do I look drunk? No. Am I wearing a prom dress? No.

So stop trying to fuck me.

Has anyone in the blogosphere that checks in to my little corner been in this situation? Speak up!

Shih Tzu's gone wild

2008-01-11T14:58:00.001-08:00

Whatchoo talkin' bout, foo?!

IM IN YER HAWZ, HAFFIN TEH ZEX

Get my good side, bitch.

Kitchen counter confessions

2008-01-09T14:50:00.000-08:00

Another conversation with the Missus:

The scene: I've just spilled some ketchup on the floor after trying to pour it onto the hot link burrito* I just made.

-----------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Disco: Why don't you just open it up (the burrito) and pour it in?

Me: It's already closed, it's too late to turn back.

Mrs. Disco: It's a shame they lock those things.

Me: Don't focus on the past.

*Patent Pending

Rome is burning

2008-01-04T15:34:00.000-08:00

I’ve been half listening to all the hoopla concerning Britney Spears’ latest appearance in the media. I say “half” because I’ve quickly grown fed up with the ridiculous way in which we are bombarded with celebrity “news”. It’s truly disgusting to see how the masses circle over the news like vultures waiting for a starving man to die. I’ll be the first to admit that when I first started this blog that I too visited some of the usual suspects like TMZ, and some other blogs that cater to gossip and such. At first there was the tingle of being one of the first to read a new snippet of info, or see a video, or read someone’s snarky commentary on the celebutard of the week’s behavior. Now, it makes me sick to see a celebrity hounded like a murder suspect.

I have come to a realization.

We have turned into Ancient Rome…at least partially.

We have become spectators at the Coliseum, packing the benches and baying for blood as the gladiators (celebrities) are paraded out one after another in order to distract us, the public, from our own lives. They hack and slash, fighting for their very lives as we secretly pray for their death. The reward for survival? Maybe a bigger opening weekend for their new movie, higher sales for their new album, or an interview with Larry King, and then they are thrown back into the ring the very next week. We shower the winner with praise until they make the fatal mistake of displeasing us (by being human) in the slightest. All the while Caesar (Harvy Levin) presides over it all, deciding who is newsworthy (lives), and who is not (dies). When the public becomes bored, he will send out his mindless entertainer (Perez Hilton) to renew their bloodlust.

We have become bloated on the carcasses of our famous, yet we still reach out our hands when a new dish is brought out to us. We’ve exchanged decency and the right to privacy for soundbites and voyeurism.

Does anyone remember what happened to Rome?

Friday morning round up

2008-01-04T08:14:00.000-08:00

Happy Friday, folks. In the interest of keeping you from getting any real work done, here's some entertainment news I've gathered.

1) Brandon Routh will not be returning as Superman in the sequel. Latinoreview (shut up, TK) revealed they got wind of this some time ago but didn't let it slip until Variety started flapping the howling yappers about it. I'm not all that surprised, seeing as how I was really only impressed with Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. And the whole Superman having a kid with Lois? I'm not sure about that one...but can you imagine the rug burns Lois had? Yikes.

B) Unless you've been living under a rock, hacked off both of your ears and shoved carrots in your eye sockets, you're aware that Britney Spears has finally and completely lost her shit.

Zebra) You know, when I was a kid and I acted up, my grandma put a boot in my ass. What do kids get these days? Free psychiatric care and lots of drugs. Lucky bastards.

Purple) Wonder whatever happened to Colin Farrell? Apparently the reviews for Alexander shamed him into making some good films. Here are some clips from In Bruges, in which he co-stars with Brendan Gleeson and Ralph (Ray, Raif, WTF?) Fienes. Ol' Drunky McDrinksalot plays one of two hit men sent to hideout in the town of Bruges, and get into all sorts of hi-larious mixups and run-ins with the locals. The dialogue and editing for the previews reminds me of Snatch (hee hee) and Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. I've been jonesing for a well written, dark UK comedy for a while and this just may fit the bill.

Foot in mouth? Check.

2008-01-03T09:49:00.000-08:00

A conversation I had with Mrs. Disco while in bed last night:

Me: Whatcha reading?

Mrs.Disco: Sur La Table.

Me: Anything good?

Mrs. Disco: Meh. Not much.

Me: (looking at page) Is that Valentine's Day stuff?!

Mrs. Disco: Yes...

Me: Are they already advertising Valentine's crap? You gotta be kidding me! We're barely into January!

Mrs. Disco: Hrrmmmmm...Maybe I'll actually get something other than a stuffed heart from Big Lots this year.

Me: ...They were in high demand, you're lucky you even got one.

Mrs. Disco: You touch me and you're getting an elbow in the chest.

And, scene.

Observation

2007-12-24T09:19:00.000-08:00

Something's been bugging me lately, folks: More and more people seem to have taken to no longer saying "Merry Christmas" and now use the generic "Happy Holiday" greeting. I actually had someone today stumble over their words trying to figure out how to wish me a merry Christmas. You know what, screw that! Just say "Merry Christmas", alright? You know what the worst thing that can happen would be if I didn't celebrate Christmas (which I do, by the way)? I would politely correct you and say "Why thank you, sir/m'am, I don't celebrate Christmas but I do appreciate the well wishes".

There. Was that so bad?

Fucking political correctness. Anyway, Merry Christmas to all of you that do celebrate it and a happy New Year to all.

In the Can

2007-12-20T13:19:00.000-08:00

Afternoon folks. Here are a couple of brand spankin' new trailes for your consumption holes. The first is a quick tv spot for Cloverfield, the new JJ Abrams project opening on 01-01-08. It features a great shot of jets flying through New York, a bridge collapsing, and some character dialogue. Hard to believe it's just over a month before this sucker hits the big screen and all that viral marketing pays off.

This next one is the first trailer for Hellboy II: The Golden Army, directed by Guillermo Del Toro. I like the new looks for Selma Blair's character Liz Sherman, and Abe Sapien, played by Doug Jones. It kinda bothered me in the first film that they would send these characters into dangerous situations unarmed (even though Liz is a walking nuke). They've definitely taken some tips from the animated Hellboy films that are out in regards to the character design and costumes. It's a bit more comic book-ish, but I think it works in the films world.

I am JJ Abrams' little bitch

2007-12-17T10:39:00.001-08:00

Here is a 5 minute clip from the upcoming JJ Abrams project Cloverfield. Feel free to copy the code and post to your own blog

Brookstoned is the way of the walk

2007-12-15T10:00:00.000-08:00

This holiday season, nothing says "I have no clue what you like, so, yeah. Here's something that requires 15 D Cell batteries and an extension cord", quite like a gift from the Brookstone catalog.

"Oh Manny, what do I give to that person that'll let them know exactly how I feel about them? Can you help me?"

Of course, you cotton-headed ninny-muggins! Here's some handy gift ideas and what each gift says about your so called "friends" (who are probably too wrapped in things like their kids, parents, siblings, blah, blah, fucking blah):

"Hey Fatty! How about stepping out of the line at Fatburger and stepping onto this scale? Not only with this little baby calculate your body fat percentage (here's a hint: you're somewhere between Marlon Brando and this.) Also, since it's transparent, you'll be able to see the tile cracking beneath your feet as you set your tree trunk size leg on this bad boy. Merry Christmas, Shamu!"

"What's stuck up your ass?? Why, this little beauty here, that's what! Now you'll be able to tell everyone EXACTLY what's stuck up your ass and how long it's been rolling around in there for. Also, the built in thermometer will tell you the exact temperature in Hershey Town at the push of a button. Feel like taking a nap? The built in alarm with touch snooze feature will keep you from missing that all important "I'm a douche bag that wouldn't be on time for his/her own douching" douche bag's anonymous meeting. Douche bag."

"Happy Kwanzaa, you god damned shut-in! Even your porcine fingers shouldn't have difficulty finding the 'Sit on your ass all day and watch TV' channel, thanks to the over sized buttons on this bad boy. The buttons are even glow in the dark, so you won't have to bother with any of that pesky sunlight: just set it next to the warm glow of your Sith light saber. The 6 in 1 feature lets you control your TV, DVD, self inflating Lara Croft doll, milkshake I.V., ceiling mounted crane (for avoiding those pesky bed sores) and animatronic Harry Knowles".

Hope that helps, folks. If not, go screw. Merry Christmas, and Happy Fucking New Year!

The power of Campbell compels you!

2007-12-14T14:27:00.000-08:00

Ok, I know my little corner of the blogosphere has been movie clip central for the past couple of days, but it's my blog and I can be lazy if I want to. However, I found this little gem whilst trolling the interwebs, and it features the greatest B movie actor ever to grace my screen with his chiseled features. Who is that man? None other than Bruce Campbell:

That's right, bitches, Mr. "This...is my boom-stick!" is back with his latest masterpiece "My Name is Bruce".

The synopsis (according to IMDB) is as follows: B Movie Legend Bruce Campbell is mistaken for his character Ash from the Evil Dead trilogy and forced to fight a real monster in a small town in Oregon.

The synopsis (according to me) is as follows: This movie is going to rock. your. ass! You will laugh so hard your sphinctre will probably rupture but you won't care, because it's Bruce Campbell! His ability to so completely immerse himself in his character and create layer upon layer of complexity will have you in tears. If you don't completely enjoy this movie and forego any and all other facets of your life as you watch and rewatch it, you're probably Al Qaeda and definitely devoid of a soul.

Ruptured sphinctre? Check. Tears of joy? Check. It's THAT good.

Absurd History

2007-12-12T21:01:00.001-08:00

Absurd History
Video sent by wblab

"Absurd History" is a sketch comedy show that imagines the moments in history that ordinary objects were created.

In space, no one can hear me giggle like a school girl...

2007-12-12T19:40:00.000-08:00

Hey folks, here are the first 5 minutes of Alien Vs. Predator 2, courtesy of Worstpreviews.com's source code. As shitty as the first one was, I'm actually really looking forward to this one. Say what you will.

Nothing says Christmas like slave labor

2007-12-10T23:00:00.000-08:00

As has become tradition at The Disco, we gathered some of the neighborhood kids, and along with my two girls, my nephew, assorted fruits of loins, bribed them with pizza and sugar and set them to decorate our tree while the adults guzzled cheap beer and sushi...

Behold, the end result...

Also, here are some photos of various Christmas decorations loitering about my kingdom.

First up, in the dining nook is a tree we purchased at the our local Wal-Mart (shut up, they have cheap decorations). By the looks of the tangle of cords trailing behind it, you'd think I could flag down a fucking passenger jet with this sucker...

Next, in the formal living area, we have contributions from both my side of the family, as well as Kristine's. I give to you the timeless, classical, and infinitely more valuable...Snowmen dancing on a piano to the tune of "Dashing through the snow"...

To the right of my snowmen is a clay manger scene that Kristine got from...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...If you look really closely, one of the donkeys lost an ear that we had to glue back on.

Ooh! Here is the gingerbread Christmas tree K and I put together a couple of nights ago...That's right, bitches, I was in AP art class in High School. Suck it.

Wearing the Santa hat with chasing star lights that I will undoubtedly pass down to my next child, is a nutcracker that my girls picked out. And yes, that is the dvd of the movie "You got served". Word.

Next, on the adjacent wall are the stockings hung with care...

And last, but certainly not least, I give to you for your viewing pleasure...the worlds largest wreath courtesy of Kristine's mom and her Costco membership. I'm pretty sure there's a family of racoons living comfortably inside of this...

What fire hazard?

Memo to me:

2007-12-06T14:11:00.000-08:00

Inspired by fellow blogger and all around buffoon, TK.

Dear 13 yr old Manny,

How’s it going, kid? So, you should be on your last year of private school by the time you get this. How did this get to you, you ask? Well, it involves stuff like flux capacitors, quantum physics and Michael J. Fox. Anyway, I thought I’d give you a few pointers that may make the rest of my life a bit easier, so hear goes. Mom is going to come back into your life in a big way, so be ready for that. It’s going to be a weird transition, what with her being gay and all now, but it’s for the best. Enjoy the time you have with her. I mean that. Tell her you love her every chance you get. Also, ask more questions like: Why did you and dad split? What part of Puerto Rico is our family from? What kind of drugs were you on? Why is Grandma Nancy bat-shit crazy? Stuff like that. And Liz…well, keep your room clean, do your chores, and for the love of Buddha don’t spill ANYTHING ANYWHERE and you should get along fine. She’s kinda high strung, but she means well.

Tell mom you love her.

High School is going to be kind of boring the first couple of years. You’re going to want to glom on to the first people that talk to you, but hanging out with the tennis club isn't going to rocket you to the top of the popular kids list. So be more outgoing and talk to more people. Kids in high school are waaay more insecure than you think. Show more confidence and they’ll flock to you. Here’s a list of Do’s and Don’ts for high school:

1. DO NOT hook up with Cynthia Alvarez. The temptation to rail a cheerleader is huge, I know, but it’s not going to be worth it in the long run.
2. DO be yourself, dude. You’ll be a lot happier with yourself later on.
3. DO NOT, under any circumstances, hook up with anyone with the first name Larissa and the last name Alvarez. You’ll be happy you did.
4. DO hook up with that girl with the, um...yeah those. And take pictures.
5. DO NOT tell anyone to “get their skinny white ass” to the quad over the loud speaker.
6. DO say “yes” when Brian asks you if you want to try Ecstasy. Yeah, yeah “drugs are bad” and all that…but DAMN!
7. DO call your grandmother more often. Remember what I said about mom?
8. DO NOT hook up with Rachel. Way too much drama. Plus, she's a bitch.
9. DO be more involved with your little brother. He's a prick, but he's your brother.
10. DO NOT, not matter what anyone tells you, drop 4 pills of E in one night. 3, OK. 4, not so much. Your tongue will thank you.

Junior year things are really gonna pick up. As soon as you can, start hanging out with Victor (Liz’s nephew). You’ll spend most of the year drunk and at some great parties. Tone down the partying in college and get a fucking degree. Now, taking all that into consideration, if you should violate rules number 1 and 3…suck it up. Things are going to be a lot different for you from that point forward, and you’re going to have to make a lot of changes. Be responsible, grow up (fast) and things will be a bit easier to handle.

With all this said, there is one last thing I want you to know. If you should choose to ignore every piece of advice in this letter, and your life takes the course it has, there is a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. You will meet a wonderful, caring, intelligent, motivated woman that will help you turn your life into what it should have been a decade before. She will be your best friend, your best critic, your most avid supporter, and more.

Tell mom you love her.

If you stick to the rules, you should skate through high school and into some uncharted territory. All I can tell you is to be yourself, do what’s right, and don’t settle. You’re smart, funny, and God dammit you’re a handsome summamabitch. Also, whenever possible, rail the chick with the...um, yeah those.

Harold and Kumar 2 Restricted Trailer

2007-12-05T23:24:00.000-08:00

Hate your job? Turn the volume waaay up, sit back, click your heels together three times and say "There's no place like the unemployment line".

Is that a pineapple in your pants or are you just happy to see me?

2007-12-02T23:40:00.000-08:00

These guys have been growing on me since I heard "Your face" on KROQ 106.7. I guess this would be what 311 would sound like if they didn't suck now. Enjoy some of Pepper's "Dirty hot sex (Give it up)"....this should be good for some accidental traffic. You perverts.

Now here's a Pepper concert montage set to "Your face". These guys are pretty damn good. It's almost like Alient Ant Farm meets 311.

Chobot Broadcast Network

2007-11-27T20:12:00.000-08:00

Hey folks, if there is anyone left that still reads this blog show some support for a very talented young man. He may very well be colorzing your favorite black and white films in the future.

The last laugh

2007-11-27T09:17:00.000-08:00

Empire magazine has posted their image of Heath Ledger as the Joker. Looks great to me, what do ya'll think?

Retard Hero II: Tards of Rock

2007-11-17T20:30:00.000-08:00

Goin' to Hell in a hand basket with gasoline underwear, you bet.

Phrase of the day: "Slow news day"

2007-11-13T12:47:00.000-08:00

Over the past week or so I've made note of some particularly inane "news" stories that have been advertised. Like to hear em'? He' it goes...

1. Cell phone terrorism. Wow. Really? How about getting a new phone? Or maybe calling the person back and ask them if they've "accepted Jesus as their lord and savior", or my personal favorite which is to tell them you've always wanted a stalker and if you can meet for coffee and arrange a stalking schedule. Who doesn't like a good stalking? Who's with me?

2. Praying for rain? What. The . Fuck?? How about a good old rain dance? Maybe a divinig rod to find that pesky well that keeps jumping around? This was a particular fucky piece of news. The god damned GOVERNOR of Atlanta, GA is holding a vigil for rain. Let me repeat that. A vigil. For rain. RAIN, people. I'd like to ask my remaining readers to join hands and pray that a Hollywood producer finds this blog and wants to give me piles of money to make a movie about my life as a parent. Kumbayah, bitches.

3. STD's are all the rage these days. I'm tellin' you, those crazy kids and the Wii's and PS2's and...The Clap? According to the New York Stock Exchange, Gonorrhea is up after an all time low, and Syphillis is seeing a promising upswing as well. Not to be forgotten, Chlamydia experienced a jump from 976,000 in '05 to 1,031,000 in '06. Hey TK, good job importing those Somalian prostitutes.

I want my two dollars! (I'll settle for $1.50, though)

2007-11-05T20:12:00.000-08:00

So, I've concluded my first week of "training" at my new job. Let me ask you a question, loyal readers: Have you ever completed a full week of work, looked back at the previous five days and say "They're paying me for this?!" That's the kind of week I had. I learned about this much about my job duties, folks. However, I did discover that my employer is probably using what has to be the last dial up internet connection on Earth. I kid you not, people, I haven't seen an internet connection this slow since the first days of the interwebs.

Altogether, though, they really are a good bunch of people and I think I'm going to like it here. Now, on to the good stuff. As I mentioned last week here is another installment of my adventures in the bloody trenches of parenting.

Shortly after putting up the previous post, I received a knock at my door. I checked through the peep hole before opening, on the odd chance that Lou Dobbs was staging a sweep of Santa Ana. Luckily, it was only the neighbors son, otherwise known by my children as the "neighborhood dream boat".

He asked to speak to Danielle, who happened to accompany me to the door. He then asked Danielle if she had seen anyone hanging around his backpack at school because someone had taken $1.50 from it. Without missing a beat, Danielle said she didn't know but would ask her friend Stephanie if she knew anything about it. That pretty much concluded the conversation and he went on his way.

Not one moment after she turned the corner, Kristine was all up in her shiznit...apparently, juvenile delinquency does have some benefits which manifest themselves into an uncanny ability to sniff out any bullshit within a quarter mile....I, on the other hand,was an Eagle Scout.

I followed her lead and unleashed my disapproving father stare of death on Danielle. Within seconds we had a confession from her (Guantanamo ain't got nothin' on us, yo'). I immediately marched Danielle back to the boys' house with an apology and the $1.50 she had taken. This would all be just the tip of the iceberg, though.

Once Danielle and I returned home, I immediately ordered her to grab some chair. I couldn't even begin to describe to her how disappointed I was in her actions. What had I done wrong that would make her thing it was OK to do this kind of thing? Her justification for it was that it was "just a joke" and that she had meant to give him back the money. Yeah, I could smell what she was shoveling too. Anyway, I let Kristine take the reigns on this one as my first reaction was to burn all of her possessions on my BBQ and confine her to her room until I had arranged her enrollment at a nunnery in Rome. Once I calmed down and Kristine had finished bringing half of the heavens down on her, it was my turn. The hardest part of all this was that she hadn't expressed any true indication of remorse for her actions. Part of me chalked it up to the rebelliousness of youth and the preteen years, but a bigger part of me wanted to breath fire and brimstone and make her see the error of her ways. That wouldn't work though, just telling her that stealing was wrong really didn't have the impact we were looking for. It wouldn't really get through that preteen wall of "Duhhhhh" that they all seem to have.

Kristine's solution? Call the police. How's that for hardcore? Well, not that hardcore because the police department advised me to contact her school.

I contacted her school and they directed me to their Assistant Principal. She advised us that the local police really wouldn't come down to the school for $1.50, no matter how awesome of an after-school special this would make. She did, however, offer to speak to Danielle personally and explain the ramifications of committing theft on school property. It was made clear to Danielle that normally she would be suspended for this, but in lieu of having a phone conference with us (her parents) she would suspend the suspension and put the paperwork in Danielle's school record.

Of course this hasn't ended her punishment for this...oh, nooooo sir. I've meted out all kinds of punishment for this infraction, folks. And no, I don't think we went too far at all. It's not like I'll be the parent to co-volunteer at the homeless shelter during the hygiene clinics we'll be sending Danielle to volunteer at (kudos to Kristine for that idea).

We've made it perfectly clear to both of the girls on several occasions that we won't tolerate dishonesty of any kind in our house, so they are well aware of what happens when they are caught.

By the way folks, I'll be finishing the third and final part of my longest post ever, very soon. I think it'll help tie all of these parenting columns together.

Quickies

2007-10-25T23:55:00.000-07:00

Happy Friday folks. Who really gets any work done on Friday's anyway? Well, in keeping with the tradition of getting next to nothing done, here's more Internet garbage to keep your clicker finger busy:

Tobey Maguire to produce and star in a live action Robotech movie? I swear to whatever deity is listening that if I see one just one Veritech fighter in a dance montage, I'm killing someone.

Mad Max 4 is set to begin production soon. Director George Miller has been quoted as saying that Mel "fuckin' Jews" Gibson will not be reprising the role that made him a household name. Gee, that's too bad. Isn't there another big Australian star that could fit the role of a gruff, road weary mercenary?

Wanted: Hollywood. Crime: a lack of creativity and independent thought so profound that the next writer that can pen an original story will be accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake.

The video game based film Hitman opens in wide release on November 21st. There's been some rumors that studio exec pussies are looking to remove some of the more violent scenes to avoid an "R" rating and have brought in editor Nicolas DeToth. WHAT THE FUCK, PEOPLE?! The title of the movie is "Hitman" not "Bald guy with a bad attitude"...fuck's sake.

Here's the latest trailer for Hitman. Looks decent, but I'm still on the fence about Olyphant is Agent 47.

Let's see just how deep the rabbit hole goes...

2007-10-24T19:19:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a long two months with no new posts up on The Disco. The only people reading my blog now are spammers and anyone that's done a search for "Amy Winehouse licking Tyler Perry's sphincter". I aim to change all that folks! It's a brand new day under the Disco's bright lights, and I'm cleaning house. I'd also like to ask for input from any readers still stopping by to see what's new. I'm thinking of starting a parenting column relating my day to day experiences being a single parent and answering any parenting questions the blogosphere at large may have. What do you think? Of course I'll still maintain the same oh so hilarious posts you've come to expect from the Lord of the Disco, but I'd like to give something back to the blogging community that made me the white hot blogger star I was (for about 9.2 minutes).

As my regular readers know, I have two daughters ages 12 and 10. My 12 year old had her first school dance (which Kristine and I were foolish enough to volunteer to chaperone) about a month ago with her next one coming up this Friday. Wanna know what it was like chaperoning a dance attended by about 300 preteens? Imagine a herd of cattle jacked up on Mountain Dew & Sour Patch Kids being stuffed into an auditorium after running around a yard all day. Now play some of the shittiest hip hop on today's radio, add two bewildered parents and mix till sweaty and smelly. Now I'm no prude, but if I see another 12 year old girl freaking on another 12 year old girl, I just might tazer someone. As a matter of fact, if I see any boy or girl get within 2 feet of each other, I'm makin' with the pepper spray. Gall derned hormonal douchebags.

And now we're set to do it all over again. "Why, oh Lord of the Disco, wouldst thou invite such torture upon thine noble self?" you may ask.

Shit homey, I'm an awesome parent, that's why.

Once again back is the incredible...

2007-10-23T20:40:00.000-07:00

My self imposed moratorium on blog posts is lifted, loyal readers (all two of you). After much hard work, far too many mojito's and a plethora of shitty interviews courtesy of Monster.com, I am back in the saddle, bitches!! I'll put up a full blown post (get your mind outta the gutter, TK) later this week, but in the meantime, ask yourself...

In a galaxy far, far away...

2007-08-23T12:02:00.001-07:00

I'd like to thank everyone that has read and or commented on what's probably the longest post I've ever worked on. Rest assured it's not even close to being done yet, but it seems that life has thrown me another curve ball. I'll be working on part III of the post over the weekend, but I have some other business to attend to that will also require me attention. Wish me luck.

P.S.
Anyone know of some job openings in my area?

And now, a word from our sponsors...

2007-08-16T18:43:00.001-07:00

Still working on Part II of the previous post folks, but in the meantime since some of you lose your shit when I don't bring the funny, here's something to shove in your eye holes. After an exhaustive (about an hour's worth) of research and consulting with various experts (Paint.net) I've reached a startling conclusion...Our most popular celebrities are morphing into the creatures of our worst nightmares (redundant?)! I present to you hard evidence straight from the Hispanic! At the Disco Research Facility...in downtown Santa Ana.

Exhibit A: A sapphic loudmouth (that eats babies)...or baby eating vampire?

Exhibit B: Former King of Pop, current poster child for Clorox skin care products...or soul sucking phantom?

Exhibit C: Songstress with enough Smack and Jack Daniels in her system to take down the defensive line of the Pittsburgh Steelers...or slightly more attractive alien with acid for blood?

Exhibit D: UK singer (has anyone actually heard any of this walking pharmacy's music, anyway?)...or brain eating zombie?!?!?!

Wherein I wear my e-heart on my e-sleeve Part I & II

2007-08-15T22:07:00.000-07:00

Part I

Hey folks, sorry that I have been MIA for a little while now, but my home computer recently crashed and burned and it’s been tough maintaining posts on even my personal blog.

However, I think it’s time that I finally disclosed to you the history regarding my relationship with my ex, and our two daughters. My ex and I got together when I was eighteen. We became serious fairly quickly and it was only a matter of months before she was pregnant with our first child, Danielle (GBP). Obviously, I was in no way prepared for having a child, but was so smitten that I foolishly agreed to plan a child with her. Yeah, it was planned. That was my first mistake. Needless to say, my mother was not very pleased with this, but she did help in whatever way she could. In retrospect I wish she had helped less, as it made it easier to for me to accept the situation when my ex became pregnant two years later with Marissa (Bruiser). How might I have felt if we had been left to our own devices in supporting ourselves and providing our own home for a child? I’m sure I would have thought twice about it. Most likely I would have run screaming from someone that would have a child when only one of us was working and we had yet to get our own place. In any event, we were thrust into parenthood, two teenagers blissfully unaware of the hardships and obstacles you place in front of yourself by becoming a young parent. To top it off, we rushed into marriage a few months before our second child Marissa was born. For me it was more out of a sense of guilt and pressure from our parents than any starry eyed vision of the legitimization of our relationship.

Within the span of two years I had gone from High School graduate, to father, to husband and provider. What was I to do? Wasn’t this what you’re supposed to do when you have kids with someone? I think “supposed to do” and “supposed to be like” were the mottos I lived my so called life by in those days. I trudged along, working a dead end full time job to meet my obligations with no hope of furthering my education or my development as a person. I accepted my lot in life, never even revealing to my then wife the thoughts that I had of becoming something more than I was, and how I resented her for being content with this life. I think I resented a lot in those days: I resented her for making me feel like she was comparing me to her father –“Mr. I Can Fix Anything”, I resented her for not working and complaining we didn’t have enough money, I even began to resent my father for not being around to teach me how to fix things: was I less of a man because I didn’t know how to tune up a car of fix a dryer? How much of life had I missed out by getting myself into this? That was a crushing thought. Somehow though, my ex seemed strangely at peace with her role in all of this. I suppose that having grown up in a broken home and having had to take care of her siblings had planted the seed in her mind that this is what little girls grow up to be: a woman whose sole purpose is the rearing of children, regardless of what she wants for herself while her husband toils away at a dead end job to bring home a paycheck.

Much of the resentment I felt manifested itself in my daily behavior: lack of interest in helping her father with odd jobs around his house, spending more time at work and less at home, the inability to face the responsibilities of being a parent. I should have communicated how I felt, but I think deep down I knew it would fall on deaf ears. Suffice to say, these warring emotions and the immaturity brought on by my age resulted in one thing: I was a shitty husband. There’s a feeling of a burden being lifted in being able to freely admit that, now that I can look back on it objectively and through the eyes of my own experiences and maturity. In any event, the marriage was seemingly set to self destruct mode from the very beginning. The relationship got worse and worse, culminating in no small amount of infidelity on her part with someone she had met during her brief stint as an employee at a makeup counter at local mall that resulted in a terminated pregnancy that she admitted to me, and then a child. He also had a wife and two children at home.

I’m a very patient person, but this was something that I could not and would not put up with. Even after attempting couples counseling (prior to the second pregnancy) at my request (of which she only attended one session and I continued to see the therapist for my own sake); she seemed to not care whether the relationship could be salvaged. We even tried a “roommate” situation, where she did her thing and I did my own, but I found I could live like that only so long. It did frustrate me when on “her” weekends, the girls would wake up to no knowledge of where their mother was—only to have her return later on that afternoon.

The last straw was when she admitted to being pregnant with his child again. At that point, I’d still thought we were “trying” to work things out. I knew only one way to deal with this: I moved out. Let me preface this by saying that despite all that was going on, I loved my daughters with all of my heart and the one of the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life was to leave that house knowing that I would not be there to see them every day, to kiss them goodbye in the morning, and to tuck them in at night. It was like tearing out two pieces of my heart and leaving them behind. It was one of the few times in my life that my daughters have seen me cry. If you can show me someone that can look their children straight in the eye and tell them that they are leaving the house and not cry, I can show you someone that probably has no business seeing them in the first place.

I moved back in with my mother, brother and my mother’s partner at their house in Buena Park, CA, and thus began my tenure as a weekend parent. I saw the girls on weekends and alternating holidays. Any single parent will be familiar with the pro forma visitation schedule: pick them up after work, keep them for the weekend, and bring them back Sunday evening. Wash, rinse, repeat. What some of those single parents may not tell you is how god damned fucking horrible it is to watch your kids cry because they don’t want you to leave, watching the tears well up in their eyes as if they’d never see you again and the “daddypleasedon’togoiwannastaywithyouwhydoyouhavetogo”…If I ever go to Hell, I’m sure I’ll be made to relive that particular memory for an eternity. As hard as it was to leave the house, nothing could prepare me for that weekly heartbreak and the 45 minute drive home with only my thoughts and the image of their tear-filled, red rimmed eyes replaying in my mind. I missed them terribly when they were not there, but at the same time dreaded Sunday nights as I packed their things and got ready for the drive. The pain got lesser and lesser as the weeks, months and eventually years went by and we became use to the routine. Being that I was the weekend parent now, I was no longer there to play with them daily, watch them grow, or be there for them when they got hurt. I did talk to them at night on the phone, usually about two to three times a week (more if I wasn’t working late) but it was obviously a poor substitute for being there, and having to answer the question of “When are you coming home, daddy?” was like having my heart ripped out of my chest and tossed onto a freeway. Nightly. Try and explain to a 6 year old that you don’t live with her and her sister anymore because mom cheated on you. On second thought, don’t unless you want to screw your kid up even more. My answer to them was something along the lines of “It’s something I had to do, and it’s something you wouldn’t understand right now. It’s not your fault, ok?” As I said before, for them it got a bit easier as time went on, although for a while the tears turned into attitude and I had to turn on the stern father voice to get Marissa out of the car on occasion. For me, my one constant was the inability to make eye contact with their mother for very long without that white hot ball of hostility and anger flaring up inside of me and clouding my thoughts. This too, passed, although I can still feel it rolling around inside of me to this day.

Well, the months passed and we all acclimated to the situation and I found out something that I may have forgotten in all the animosity and name calling: I’m a damn good father. While other single dads may have been content to ask someone to watch their kids while they ran errands, I took the girls with me wherever I went: the mall, the market, friends houses…you name it. If I was invited somewhere, I made sure I was able to bring them with me. I played with them, read to and with them, helped with homework, took them to parks, and made sure they knew they were loved every day they were with me, even when they weren’t. In actuality, they fact that they were not with me during the week allowed me time do something I hadn’t had the time to even consider prior to all this: I rediscovered myself. I was finally able to sit back, take stock of myself, and actually enjoy life. As selfish as this may sound, I was grateful for the time I had away from them as it afforded me the time to decompress and focus on things that were not necessarily more important, but important in a different way. Things like actually finishing my education, taking a different career path, getting back into the social arena of dating, and reconnecting with old friends seemed possible now. In fact, I can remember a conversation I had with their mother one day when I was taking my daughters and my nephew out to lunch: I had received a call on my cell phone from her as I was at a drive thru window. Apparently her and her boyfriend had gotten into some kind of argument and he asked that she call me (why, I can’t seem to remember), but after realization the inappropriateness of carrying this conversation on in front of the kids and that this was really a pointless and insane conversation anyway, I actually thanked him for taking her off of my hands*.

Part two on Friday

*To clarify, the kids didn’t know who I was talking to as they were in the back seat playing with their cousin and a large portion of the conversation was me listening to her boyfriend prattle on about something ridiculous.

Part II

Sorry for the delay folks, but I was out of town this weekend and I wanted to polish this up before posting this. So...

Fast forward about 1 year. My mother confides in my brother and me that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer some time ago but she was, and would continue to, actively pursuing treatment. So, this was quite a lot to digest within the span of 1 year after moving back in to her house. I know now that she didn’t hold out much hope for her own survival after looking back: the expensive family trip to our hometown of New York that she knew my brother and I could never afford, making sure my brother and I tied up any of our smaller financial loose ends, and just making sure our lives were generally in order. After she passed, it was left to me, my brother, and my mom’s partner to take care of the house and ourselves. It’s funny how even a houseful of people can seem empty at times. It was months of just going through the motions, watching the loss eat away at Liz, and wondering how long we could keep this up.

The loss of my mother was especially hard on her partner, Liz. As far as I know, my mother had been her only significant relationship. I know she must have felt lost, and incredibly alone. Not too long after my mother died, pictures of my mother that were once featured prominently around the house began to disappear. A handmade pillow with my mother’s photo on it vanished. I discovered later that all her old things had been packed away and put in a storage box in the garage. I couldn’t help but harbor not too a little resentment towards her for this. This was my mother, and to me it seemed like she was trying to forget she ever existed. A few months after that, issues of finances began to drive a wedge between everyone. It became commonplace for my brother and I to avoid Liz completely simply because it became too difficult to even carry a conversation knowing that the slightest thing could set her off. Eventually my brother moved out and into his now wife’s mother’s home. Now how the hell did I get stuck living in a house where I felt like a visitor? A sense of loyalty to the person that had been the only other real parent I had ever known, I suppose. But even that would only last so long. As time passed she made it known to me that it was becoming an impossibility to maintain the house with only her income and the meager contributions I could make after paying my own bills and support for the girls. So it was that in the month of August of 2004 that I moved out and moved in to a two bedroom apartment with my friend Torre and his girlfriend at the time, Michelline.

It wasn’t the ideal solution, moving in with Torre and Mish, but it was the only option I had at the time. I certainly couldn’t afford rent on my own, and they needed help as well. It was a draw-win situation, I suppose. They got help with bills and rent, and I did have my own room, but I had to share that room with two growing girls every weekend. They knew I had kids, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was imposing on them every time the girls came over. Things went as well as they could: I was eking out a meager living as a sales rep in the sales pit at a somewhat shady company. My income was just enough to meet my support obligations, pay the bills (usually) and have a few dollars left over if I felt like splurging on a burger at AM/PM, unless my roommates took pity on me and paid my way to a club or bought a couple of rounds at a bar. Yeah, it was just as depressing as it sounds. This was another point in my life where I was existing simply to continue my existence. I was working another dead end job at another dead end company, but oddly enough there was no end in sight.

At least during the time that I lived at my mother’s house, I could entertain the thought of having a social life: I had some extra income, a house that I often times had to myself, and definitely a more positive outlook on life. Now, it was a struggle simply to keep my head above water with a fluctuating income, the cost of feeding two extra mouths, and an increasingly negative outlook on life. I can’t even recall the actual number of times I had to forego eating in order to make sure that there was enough food to provide for my daughters when they were with me. In fact, on more than one occasion, I had to inform their mother that I could not in good conscience bring them over simply because I had nothing to feed them. I don’t know if there is a worse feeling for a parent to have than the uncertainty of not knowing how you were going to feed your children.

Now it was around exactly the time that Mish moved out that I had begun to date Kristine. I decided to chance a date with her after scraping together some extra cash, and having some extremely stimulating phone conversations with her after meeting online. I held no real hope for a long term relationship, though. As a matter of fact, I had actually made mention of this to her after one of our dates. In hindsight, this was probably not the smartest move for me to make considering I hadn’t gotten any action in…well, a while. Strangely enough, she decided to continue seeing me even after my admission that I had no intentions of having a girlfriend as I didn’t feel I had anything real to contribute to a relationship. As the days went by and we spent more and more time together, things began to change. Simply being around her made me more confident: she laughed at my jokes, she encouraged what few dreams I still clung to, and she made me comfortable with just being myself. I realize now that she was everything I had ever wanted to find in a person to share myself with.

Of course, this all begged the question of how I would introduce Kristine to the girls. I had never before allowed them to interact with anyone I had dated before, simply because I knew that none of the prior relationships had any chance of becoming anything serious, and it wouldn’t be healthy for them to see me with a different girl every time. They were still too young to understand, and still held on to some hope that their mother and I would reconcile. However, I knew that my relationship with Kristine was special, and I wanted her to be in my life, and that meant bringing these two worlds together.

Once again back is the incredible...

2007-08-14T07:40:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, sorry for the lack of posts. My computer recently went down in a ball of fire, so it's gonna take a few days for it to get cleaned up and back in working order. I'm posting this from a loner computer for now.

A day in the life of my brain.

Oh God, I’m still alive. Oh well, shower.

What’s he doing? Staring at the soap? Does he think the soap is going to magically appear in his hand??

*blog*

What was that?? My God how long have we been in the shower? 15 minutes?? FUCK!

Ok, wake up, wake up. Come on, big guy, gotta get to work. Thaaaat’s it, brush the teeth. You could peel paint with your breath, geeeezus. Ah, much better.

Christ, did a raccoon die on your head? Get a haircut dammit! Thank God you bought two gallons of hair gel. And spackle.

*blog*

What the fuck was that??? Who’s in here??

Oooooh, shiny. Focus! Time to get to work.

Mmmmkay, now we get to sit here for 10 minutes and wait for the computer to boot up. Let’s go pee.

*blog*

Ok!!! I swear to fucking Christ whoever is in here is gonna get a cerebellum whoopin’ if they don’t show themselves.

Hey, guy in the stall, are you giving birth in there? Great Caesar’s ghost, sounds like you just dropped a ham in the bowl.

Wash the hands, get a paper…FUCK! Do the facilities people HAVE to cram as many paper towels in here as possible?? SHIT! We can’t even get a whole towel out! Great, maybe if we keep tearing off pieces we can wad them up into a ball and dry our hands...jackholes.

Oh God, it’s him again. Somebody tell him he looks like a pedophile. Back to work.

Good job Manny, you lasted a whole 5 minutes before getting on Pajiba!!

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...Huh? Wha? Sorry, you bored me for a minute there. Anything happen while I was out? Nothing? Big surprise.

Lindsay Lohan is in rehab…again. I’d still Google her Yahoo.

Alright, time to get some work done.

*blog*

Arrrrrgh! Is Wayne Brainy gonna have to choke a lobe?

Pajiba again?! It’s been 45 seconds, retard!

Fucking firewalls. Since when where pictures of Hayden Panettiere in a thong “distasteful”? Oh, must be that whole “minor” thing. Prudes.

I how long it’ll take for my boss to notice if we fall asleep in one of the bathroom stalls?

Hey, stop tossing your pen in the air it’s gonna….OW! See?? No one listens to me.

We really should try to get some work done today. Ooooh, shiny.

Holy crap, look at that bald spot on the CEO’s head….WOW. I could land a Cessna on that. Dude, just Bic it man. EVERYBODY can see it; I don’t care how tall you are. Oh, and I can knit a hammock from your nose hairs, man. One word: TWEEZERS!!

I should totally have my own dating game show. Part II.

2007-08-06T21:05:00.001-07:00

Here's the complete exchange regarding the dating issue my Blogger Friend is facing. Reprinted with her permission, and only the names of the innocent have been changed.
This all started with me asking her to check out a post I was preparing for Offsprung.

Me: I'll flesh it out some more before I go home. Speaking of flesh...how's the online dating going? See what I did there? That's called a segue

Blogger friend: It's blah

I think I'm not attracting the right people.

Me: So you're saying you and Peter whatshisface didn't work out? I find that hard to believe, you had such great chemistry. And by "chemistry", I mean he had a chemical imbalance that only your sweet lovin' could cure. Speaking of sweet lovin' (King Segue, they called me), any news on the (friend she likes) front?

Blogger friend: No news. Haven't even talked to him in the past few days, but probably will go see The Bourne Ultimatum with him this weekend. We both love those movies.

I'd take him in a red hot second if I could. But I just can't make the first move. I've already tried and there's no response! So...

Me: Um, hellooooo. Ever heard of booze, (friend)? Sheesh, do I gotta do everything? Alright, here's the plan:

Now here's where I stepped in, as you all read before.

You have (friend) pick you up for the movie at your place. This already sets the date "mood" seeing as how this follows the traditional formula of a guy picking up his date. Wear something slightly revealing, but in a "you gotta work for this, buddy. Kinda" way. Laugh at his jokes, and playfully hitting his arm and saying things like "(Friend she likes)! You're soooo droll, you simply HAVE to visit my summer home". After the film, feign a bit of a chill and slide your arm under his as you walk outside. Never mind if it's 80 degrees out, just pass it off as poor blood circulation. When you get back to your house, offer him a glass of the wine you purchased before he came over. If at all possible, slip some GHB into the wine or simply give him enough wine to make him pass out. Now, here is where we kick things into high gear. While he is passed out, place kiss marks in strategic locations on his person. You might even want to go so far as to place a pair of your "unmentionables" in his pants pocket, to be found later. Be sure you are next to him when he wakes up, wearing something that you could have conceivably put on after a night of vigorous "horizontal mambo-ing".

Now, you're probably wondering, "Manny, I know you're a genius and I'm probably just not capable of comprehending the level of smartness that comes from you, but why go through all this trouble?" The answer is simple. Once he's convinced that he's already shellacked you with his love paint, getting him to actually make a move the next time you go out will be all the easier since he will already believe he's Googled your Yahoo.

Blogger friend: I feel like this is fucking blog worthy.

Which, in my world is like, the highest praise ever. I LOVE this. It's genius AND it's funny.

Me: I'll call it Funius.

Blogger friend: I would seriously put it on the blog, BUT it's about (friend).

However, I wasn't holding out a lot of hope for this witty banter guy on OkCupid, but he's warmed up some and I kinda like him.

Me: (Blogger Friend) and witty banter guy, sittin' in a tree, b-l-o-g-g...i-n-g. So what does he do for a living besides setting your loins on fire?

Blogger friend: No idea!

LOL!

I just went and looked.

He's a student but he graduates soon.

Me: Oooh, that's slippery ground. That means lots of nights at your place or his. But it could force him to be very creative with the date options. Unless he has a trust fund, then you're in luck.

Blogger friend: We'll see. I haven't even MET him yet. JESUS CHRIST, Manny!

Me: I'm just thinking ahead, my dear. You'll thank me you when he calls you and tells you about the date he has planned where you collect pine cones all day and talk about your feelings. Meanwhile, you haven't seen the inside of a restaurant that doesn't have a kids menu in X number of years. Take the journey with me, (blogger friend).

Blogger friend: LOL

I have, actually, been to a nice restaurant, but doing anything in the bedroom? It's in short supply 'round here, sir. SHORT SUPPLY!

Me: There you go! If he asks you out and during the date is obviously trying to impress you with his use of the word "conflate", just look him dead in the eye and tell him "I'm not wearing panties". If he does nothing in the first 2.5 seconds, he's done.

So would you go on a date if he asked you? Would you opt for the safer "Coffee Date", or the more intimate "Dinner and a movie, possibly my panties" date?

Blogger friend: oh def the latter. Hehehe

Me: Whoa! Check out the big balls on (friend)! Woohoooo. I think there is hope for this after all. So when do you think he'll pop the question, so to speak?

Blogger friend: I give him another 4 days. Otherwise, he's toast! I'm not hanging around for the witty banter by itself!

Me: Grrrrrr! You tell em!

I should totally have my own dating game show.

2007-08-02T18:19:00.000-07:00

Here is a sample of some dating advice I recently gave a friend of mine that's carrying a torch for a guy that has yet to make a move. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Everything else, however, is fair game.

You have (potential boyfriend) pick you up for the movie at your place. This already sets the date "mood" seeing as how this follows the traditional formula of a guy picking up his date. Wear something slightly revealing, but in a "you gotta work for this, buddy...kinda" way. Laugh at his jokes, playfully hitting his arm and saying things like "(Potential boyfriend)! You're soooo droll; you simply HAVE to visit my summer home". After the film, fake a bit of a chill and slide your arm under his as you walk outside. Never mind if it's 80 degrees out, just pass it off as poor blood circulation.

When you get back to your house, offer him a glass of the wine you purchased before he came over. If at all possible, slip some GHB into the wine or simply give him enough wine to make him pass out. Now, here is where we kick things into high gear. While he is passed out, place kiss marks in strategic locations on his person. You might even want to go so far as to place a pair of your "unmentionables" in his pants pocket, to be found later. Be sure you are next to him when he wakes up, wearing something that you could have conceivably put on after a night of vigorous "horizontal mambo-ing".

Now, you're probably wondering, "Manny, I know you're a genius and I'm probably just not capable of comprehending the level of smartness that comes from you, but why go through all this trouble?" The answer is simple. Once he's convinced that he's already shellacked you with his love paint, getting him to actually make a move the next time you go out will be all the easier since he will already believe he's Googled your Yahoo.

She is so totally gonna get laid. I'm a miracle worker, people. It's what I do.

Fun with web ads

2007-07-30T17:32:00.000-07:00

God damned kids these days...

2007-07-27T12:00:00.000-07:00

Is this what it's gonna take to get it through their skulls that being a "balla" is a bunch of horseshit? So be it...

Loltards!

2007-07-19T23:09:00.000-07:00

And now for another in a weekly series from yours truly!!* I present to you...Loltards!

*Meaning I will almost positively probably never do this again. Maybe.

You're seriously harshing my mellow, man.

2007-07-16T21:29:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the lack of posts with any real susbtance, folks. Works been busier than usual, and the Offsprung and Quizlaw duties aren't leaving much time. I promise to put something more substantive up in the next couple of days.

Hey there vagina

2007-07-12T14:17:00.000-07:00

From 106.7 KROQ's producer Psycho Mike. Thank God, cuz' the original was getting on my last damned nerve.

Anyone seen my glowsticks?

2007-07-05T18:02:00.000-07:00

If you live in the Los Angeles area, this is a film I think is worth checking out. It's playing at the Sunset Laemlee 5 Theatre on July 6th at 9:30 P.M. and July 10th at 12:30 P.M.*

Synopsis
Drawing upon a variety of documentary filmmaking techniques, Rolling breaks new ground by creating a unique faux documentary. Utilizing the form of a docudrama, cinema verite style footage entwines with personal testimonials rendering a fictional chronicle, which captures the appeal of the drug Ecstasy. The film follows a diverse group of users as they cross paths in Los Angeles. At its core, Rolling is an investigation into a generation's drug of choice. It is a dramatized expose of the current state of a cultural phenomenon that has grown tremendously over the past two decades. Rolling simultaneously authenticates a specifically twisted consciousness while relating to a broad audience with an eye for detail and human behavior. The film uses a variety of formats (35mm, super 16mm and DV) giving it an unusual texture while maintaining an overall gritty and realistic tone. In doing so, the filmmakers have carefully constructed a new style that hopes to stimulate discussion while regaling the senses. It provides the viewer direct access to the roller coaster of incidents that often occur to an Ecstasy user. Rolling is an engrossing, provocative, and poignant cinematic manifestation of the journey one has while on the drug. It is a bold and visceral experience that brings to light one of the most prolific drug phenomena of our time.

*The author of this blog does not condone, promote, or justify the use of ecstacy or any other illicit drugs.**

**But that one time in L.A with all my cousins and a buncha random women...HOLY CRAP MAN! That was fucking awesome!

Wanted, dead or alive...

2007-07-02T19:23:00.000-07:00

$3440.00

Mingle² - Online Dating

Thank God it didn't ask if I'd ever done "non prescription" medications...I'd probably be lucky to have enough to get a value meal.

Guess who's bizzack!!

2007-06-28T10:30:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. You're starved for attention. Or is that the other way around? Oh well. Sorry about the long absence folks, works been a real beeyawtch, my daughters are on summer break now, and my work just blocked access to blogger at work so I actually have to work at work now. What the fuck?! How the hell am I supposed to placate you, my adoring public, with new and hilarious posts if I can't do it at work? I'll be posting during the evening now, so please inform your spouses, life partners, enablers, etc. that you'll be otherwise indisposed between the hours of 5 P.M. until The Lord of the Disco dismisses you. For this dose of Disco, a remix of the video that made me an Internet sensation overnight:
It Raining Men

Add to My Profile | More Videos

A wise man once said...

2007-06-27T13:00:00.000-07:00

One Ring to rule them all,
One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all
and in the darkness bind them.

I thought I'd give you all a peek at the ring similar to the one I presented to the now Mrs. Disco. For those of you not yet in the know, I proposed to her May 27th, during an intimate (get your mind out of the gutter, TK) moment. This marked a great day in my life, as we are in the process of planning our wedding. We've gone through a few permutations on the idea, and now we're leaning toward a local affair at our church with a live band and catered by In n' Out. Seriously. If any of my readers that haven't jumped ship due to my lack of posts lately have any ideas, please feel free to offer them.

As a side note, just a few things that I sacrificed to afford The One Ring:

An X-Box 360, a PS3, with extra controllers
100 lap dances at Cap'n Creams
A new flat screen TV

I'm just sayin'.

Take The Disco with you!

2007-06-26T20:34:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, you can now get the official unoffical Hispanic! At the Disco T-shirts. Several sizes are available, from Small to 2XL, only one color (Olive Green) available at the moment. It's 100% cotton and made by the tender loving care. Just wearing the shirt actually increases male muscle mass by 25% and increases female bra size by 2 cups. I could be lying about that, but you'll have to buy one to prove me wrong. It's designed by the fine folks at Ripple Junction and available at the usual screen T hot spot (here's a hint: If you have more piercings than you have body cavities, you'd have no problem getting a job there).

Now you have a valid reason for that smug look on your face. Feel free to bitch slap anyone that has the nerve to ask you what your t-shirt "means".

Danger, Will Robinson, Danger!

2007-06-14T12:40:00.000-07:00

I loves me some technology folks. I've got a PS2, PSP, DVD, VHS(shut up), an IPod, you name it. My youngest even got a RoboRaptor for Christmas (althought the damn thing is now collecting dust and giving me the hairy eyeball whenever I walk in the room). But the folks over at WowWee have crossed the line. I truly believe that the RoboPanda is the next step towards bringing SkyNet online...

And THIS just freaks me the fuck out!

*Thanks to G. Xavier for the tip.

It's raining Puerto Ricans

2007-06-11T18:57:00.000-07:00

It's raining Puerto Ricans
Uploaded by mannmartinez

Yes, that's me.
1 Roof + 1 Bounce House + 1 Stupid guy = My first web video.

Manny and the Brain

2007-06-06T13:19:00.000-07:00

Hey guys and gals sorry I've been out of commission for a bit, things have been hectic. I just got word that my column at Offsprung can now be found on the regular blog roll on their home page as a regular contributor!!!! Also, I'll be contributing to Quizlaw during my dubious free time.

One step closer to total world domination, mother-effers.

In lieu of a full blown post (which I'll put up tomorrow) here is what's making me laugh/cry:

Hispanic! At the Disco on Offsprung...for reals!
-----------------------------
Jenna Elfman schools some punk bitches!
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Woman cathces fire while praying at church.....sometimes this shit writes itself, folks.
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If I've learned one thing from blogging, it's never, EVER practice archery in your own home.- Fark.Com

Makes me wanna sing

2007-05-31T10:20:00.001-07:00

With the permission of the Bunkum Brothers I'm posting lyrics to a song of theirs that I find particularly fitting these days in light of recent events that have stirred our fine media into a frenzy.....and cuz I wanna drive some goddamn traffic my way. Without further delay, the lyrics to "Dear Lindsay Lohan" by the Bunkem Brothers.

Dear Lindsay Lohan

(m. carter)

Lindsay Lohan, where do you think you're goin' now?
You drink and you dance, you got ants in your pants so I'm told
But I'm afraid to say that, honey, someday you'll grow old

Paris Hilton, have you ever read John Milton, girl?
He wrote Paradise Lost in which Satan gets tossed down to Hell
And it occurs to me that it's a story you know well

Twins of Olsen, you were such sweet and wholesome girls
You succeeded so young, living two lives in one, now you've grown
But if you do the math that means you're older than Sharon Stone

Ashlee Simpson, don't come undone my friend
Sure your sister is hot and we all know you're not so you're blue
But the sands of time will make her ugly just like you

Lindsay Lohan, sweetie, what do you think you're showin' us?
With a click and a flash they always cause you to crash, what a world
But someday soon they'll be chasing a younger girl

Lindsay, baby, you know you're gonna get old

Feel free to stop by their site, where you can actually hear each of the songs on their new CD "Love Songs", including my personal favorite, "Excuse Me Miss".

Quickies

2007-05-29T09:34:00.000-07:00

I love me some hot wings, but this guy has a problem.

You know, any thing that ends with a metal spike in your ass is never good....but it sure is funny.

The Department of Evil wants you....dead. The Onion

My money's on Elmer Fudd. Orange County Register

Attack of the Clone

2007-05-24T11:30:00.000-07:00

I have new post up over at Offsprung. I'll be out of commission for a while as I'll be meeting some friends, trying not to be killed in my sleep by a houseguest, and running my debit card into the ground.

Hispanic! At The Disco on Offsprung

Also, let me know if you like the new layout here at the original Disco.

Blind date? No, it's just Catarax

2007-05-24T10:15:00.000-07:00

Orange County Register

"Senior dating is finally getting its due attention. The AARP now has a page in its magazine devoted to senior dating issues. And currently, a TV network is considering a 13-part series about senior dating."

Um, Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Look, no one wants to see a show about old people dating. It's saddening enough staring down the barrel of my own age without having to watch two even older people swap stories about Geritol and bed sores. I am perfectly content with the image of old people as dispenser of wisdom and checks for $20 on my birthday. I don't need them "humanized".

I mean, really, the only reason people are gonna watch this show is to see if one of them breaks a hip riding the mechanical bull at Coyote Ugly. That, or they'll force the fogies to go on an "extreme" date that involves sky diving or rock climbing, just to prove how "active" these fossils are, resulting in a coronary mid jump and the subsequent snap, crackle, pop on colliision.

I say, let them remain as they are: Repositories of ancient wisdom, funny anecdotes about Roosevelt, and days spent mowing down Nazi troops.

Offsprung part Deux

2007-05-22T09:10:00.000-07:00

Hey folks, apparently their was a problem with Offsprungs site yesterday so the link I posted for my second post was broken. I know, I know, you were heartbroken. But it's fixed now! Rejoice, my vassals! Now go forth and clicketh the linketh and bestow some love upon my codpiece.

Hispanic!At the Disco on Offsprung

Offsprung

2007-05-21T12:35:00.000-07:00

Behold, lovers of all things Disco, I hath gone forth and mulitplied. I have begun posting over at Offsprung, so please feel free to neglect your jobs, family, and whatever deity you worship to head on over there and leave some comments for the Lord of the Disco:

Hispanic! at the Disco on Offsprung

God it up, people.

2007-05-21T11:00:00.000-07:00

Explosm

To the death? No.....to the pain.

2007-05-20T21:00:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay in a new post folks. It was a busy weekend at The Disco: Friday night was spent planning for a visit from a few friends coming to town this week. Closing ceremonies for my daughters' softball teams were on Saturday, and as part of an ongoing effort to plumb the depths of my non-existent tolerance for pain, I made an appointment to get a tattoo. That's right bitches! The Lord of the Disco got inked up! Who needs to got to prison for one when you can remain part of society and pay an ex con to shove ink under your skin by poking your skin several thousand times with an electric needle?! Thanks to the good folks over at English Ink, I can now feel that much more "street" when I'm shopping at Target.

I'm sure no one wants to hear about my weeekend, so I'll get write down to the nitty gritty. Here is the picture of my first tattoo. The gems in the crown are the birthstone of Mrs. Disco. Hopefully this buys me at least 2 hours of uninterrupted time with my PS2. If not, them I'm covering it up with a giant mushroom.

Also, I will be posting the first of two posts over at Offsprung later this evening so feel free to check it out tomorrow morning. The good folks over there have been kind enough to let me contribute some of the vast (but mostly useless) parenting knowledge that I have rolling around in my head.....I weep for our children.

Editor's note: My girlfriend got a matching tattoo with my birthstones on her lower back the day before. And I don't mean in bed, Hay-o!

Editor's note to editor's note: I'm an editor!

One step closer to a "Pre-Crime" unit

2007-05-15T13:24:00.000-07:00

News.com

Gonzales proposes new crime: 'Attempted' copyright infringement

Posted by Declan McCullagh
Attorney General Alberto Gonzales is pressing the U.S. Congress to enact a sweeping intellectual-property bill that would increase criminal penalties for copyright infringement, including "attempts" to commit piracy.

"To meet the global challenges of IP crime, our criminal laws must be kept updated," Gonzales said during a speech before the U.S. Chamber of Commerce in Washington on Monday.

The Bush administration is throwing its support behind a proposal called the Intellectual Property Protection Act of 2007, which is likely to receive the enthusiastic support of the movie and music industries, and would represent the most dramatic rewrite of copyright law since a 2005 measure dealing with prerelease piracy.

Here are some of the bullets on this bit of Big Brother Legislation:

Criminalize "attempting" to infringe copyright
-Don't even think about burning that new Nine Inch Nails album...Oh, you did think about it? Turn around sir and face the vehicle, hands behind your back.

Create a new crime of life imprisonment for using pirated software-
-Because any accountant using a burned copy of "Turbo Tax" should have his testicles fed to him.

Require Homeland Security to alert the Recording Industry Association of America
-Hey, Sony? Yeah, we got those copies of Spider Man 3 off the street, your kids are safe now.

Allow computers to be seized more readily
-Terrorists? What terrorists?! We've gotta get those God damned bloggers behind bars....fucking free speech my ass.

I was going to keep this short because according to E-Blogger, we bloggers have the attention spans of gnats on speed, but oh well, it's my blog and I can bitch if I want to. All kidding aside,I can understand the film and music bigwigs trying to protect their interests, but in this digital age it's kind of like the movie and film industry are the old couple that still keeps their money under the mattress. I know that duplicating copywrigthed material without permission is against the law, and I don't condone it. I don't buy burned movies, or illegally download music. Honestly. I even explained to my kids how buying burned movies financially hurts the ones who made it, and is just plain illegal. But this? This bit of despotic legislation smacks of a smoke screen to further dismantle our right to privacy. We have to draw the line, people. Politicians are public servants, and we too often forget that. They serve at our whim, and our tax dollars pay their salaries.

What's next? Is Tom Cruise going to come crashing through my window the next time I think about kicking my neigbors teeth in because their fucking Pomeranian won't stop barking at every thing that passes by?

It also seems more than a bit convenient that this comes when Alberto Gonzalez is at the front the scandal concerning the firing of District Attorneys.....Slipping this legislation through while everyone is looking in the other direction?.....Well played, Al.

I'd like to open this up to discussion for anyone that would like to.

Step-Mother's Day

2007-05-14T08:48:00.000-07:00

It took me a while to organize my thoughts, but here they are. In the mad rush for flowers, cards, gifts and a blur of brunch time get together on this Mother's Day, there is one particular person that I think gets forgotten or not as rewarded all too often: the Stepmother.

If being a parent is often times a thankless job, then being a step parent is thankless 24/7. Not only are you considered an outsider by some, often there is sense of complete alienation from the inner circle of parenting. The children weren't born to you, were not raised from infancy by you, and your first introduction to them often comes at a time of great loss and you become an object of hostility and disrespect.

I would like to take use this forum to express my deepest thanks and affection for those brave enough to take upon themselves the mantle of Step-Parent. You have entered onto a field of warring emotions, where there is no clear victor. You put aside your own happiness in consideration of the greater good and give of yourself more than any other.

Thank you Kristine for being the mother I wish my daughters had from the very beginning. The love, kindness, generosity, and self sacrifice you have shown my daughters is nothing short of heroic. I don't know if I can ever thank you enough for being there for us when we needed you most, and being my strength when I had none left, but I will die trying. You have left your mark on all of us, and we are all the better for it.

My resume's bigger than yours

2007-05-11T10:29:00.000-07:00

TK is sharing some of his mind altering work history after being inspired by Litelysalted's tales of Bitches and deli-meats. So in honour of TK's thumbs and Litely's dignity, I'm sharing some of my own colorful past in the workforce.

1993-1995 Journeys Shoes - I started there as an ROP (Regional Occupation Program) student and was hired part time for summer.

Upside - Actually not a bad job for a high school kid. Discounts on brand name shoes, worked in the mall, got to talk to the fly honeys at San Francisco Cookie Shop all day.

Downside - My boss, Sharon, was a hardcore vegetarian and the smell from her bowel movements could peel the paint off of a Sherman tank. Her ex was a creep to the Nth degree and thought walking around with an Indian Spirit stick or whateverthehellitwas was cool.

2003-2004 - Prudent Choice - I got suckered into working their by my ex roommate. It was in an office building in Irvine, and ran by a fast talking midget from NY. No, not Chez. My first clue should have been that all the office equipment was second hand. The second clue was my first check bouncing. I spent my days conning people into buying into a medical discount program that offered little to no savings and was only accepted by witch doctors in Papua New Guinea . I had no medical benefits, worked weekends, and my co workers were often ex cons and washed up rock groupies with less teeth than Amy Winehouse. What can I say, I was in a weird place in my life.

P.S. I forgot to mention that their sales training sessions included reading sales scripts that took lines DIRECTLY from Boiler Room. I shit you not.

As you can see, I was spared the manual labor jobs TK excelled at, and the retail food chains Litely loves soooo much. But if not for them, who's backs would I stand on to climb the ladder of success?