A forever kind of thing

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

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

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

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

(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!

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

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