I’m looking at myself yet Im focused on you
Am I late paying rent? Ya giving me a notice to move
I know its comin to a point where we hope its so true
Ya need time for ya mind, lets make it a moment o’ two
It’s been a tough lessin throughout,
We can start caressin, love session, start kissin me down
With aggression, we loud, pay no attention to doubt
To the underlying question around as Im undressin ya blouse
We needa make a decision but how?
When no one right now is wearin any pants in da house
Calm n sweaty, things are getting heavy
“I’ve never felt this way befo” is the feeling Im setting
Aw ready… but man, these moments sometimes become far n few
Tear apart my heart in two I thought it was kinda hard to do
Can we barter boo? I’ll trade my copy of “The Carter 2″
For a spot on our team, I wanna be a starter too
Because right now you got the accolades runnin All City
and you got me coming off the bench for the junior varisty
It’s not Sweet but Low, Sugarbear feeling kinda feeble
Maybe in your cup of tea we really aint supposed to be Equal
Oh come on, lets keep it honest since we started
My relationship skills couldn’t pay the bills in a single-room apartment
No if’s, and’s, or but’s – that’s that
Call me one-dimensional cus I’ll leave you lying flat from the gasps
You’s an angel in my eyes, you’re fly w/o the rocketry
I can see your bodys heavenly curves when I study my astronomy
So when I utter Dumb N Dumber shit it’s a mockery
I’ll destroy my words that hurt then we’ll trace and erase its etymology
But when it comes to this it’s like a Green Wave, I’m Tulane
I mean, maybe too lame, nah, too late, maybe Im a Tool aye?
10,000 Days from now on a Parabola sometime around June 8
I’ll look up from The Pot at the night and see the moon ache
As it reflects all the scars from 27 years ago
Moaning out more O’s than a box of Cheerios
Because stupidity he clearly knows, words are merely flows
I’ll be yelling out ya name wonderin if you can hear me tho
Can you hear a tree fall when no one is around?
So if I’m screamin out my love for you does it even make a sound?
I’m a loss for words, I got the predicates but not the nouns
Other times I got the wrtten portion but cant say it out loud
I wear my heart on my sleeve but forgot the shirt I tossed on the ground
When we made love now Im askin security “Where’s the lost n found?”
Damn, I really liked that shirt, it had comfort and fit me right
I guess I wore out my welcome… it would only be fitting right?
I’ll shed tears at the stars, I hope you can see me on Earth tonight
I guess when you have to fight for your worth it ain’t really worth the fight

We’ve gone from:

• IRC chatz
• Emails on Hotmail
• AOL chat rooms
• Yahoo IMs
• VBulletin boards
• Napster forums
• Youtube videos
• Myspace blogs
• Facebook Pokes
• Twitter ramblings
• Brightkite / Dodgeball / Foursquare check ins

Remember, I’m a nerd. You prolly skipped a few of these. I didn’t even include Reddit, StumbleUpon, etc., which all the nerds out there were smug at my exclusion (this nOOb didn’t include 4Chan! XD). Along the way, I ran into other apps and websites (come on, I know one of you had a blackplanet acct!) that weren’t very useful. In any case, social evolution and those sites / programs have always reached a maturation point where users are at a high and then a declines begins, either b/c better technology exists ( FB beat out MySpace easily b/c MySpace allowed people’s incessant need to post 40 Photobucket slides to crash your browser while FB said “F your Rockyous, enjoy this white background), a site / prog doesn’t respond to its users (see above) or b/c of simple human interest (Brightkite, although having a head start on Foursquare (and it’s predecessor Dodgeball) never gained traction as checking in didn’t have a real payoff).

However, with the massive assimilation of FB into our lives, a recent episode in my social networks really had me thinking about protecting my real life world b/c of my virtual identity. It was like watching Total Recall on acid and unlocking the “I’m on a Fucked Up Moment In My Life” badge. I basically had someone call me out based on the content I had. For the sake of brevity, I won’t get too involved in details but it was a definite compromise of my social network. Therefore, I had to do some cutbacks. It’s ironic, b/c I think it’s fuckin dumb that anyone would put a social network on ‘private’ b/c it defeats the purpose of a social network. Or at least that’s what I thought back in 2005 when I 1st had a MySpace. After a few weeks of my ex asking “who was the bitch you are dancing with at that stupid Club Envy in your pictures?” I quickly realized the benefits of the virtual Masterlock icon on my account.

So, didn’t I have my shit on lock already? Nope, and that’s thanks to Facebook’s eroding privacy.

3 things have contributed to a lack of privacy that is very disturbing, at least to me:

• Facebook continually shifting privacy control from “lock down” to “opt out”
• The lack of control over others use of YOUR information
• A mess of the “Personal Page, Fan Page, & Group Page”

Facebook continually shifting privacy control from “lock down” to “opt out”

Facebook started as a closed network where you had to have a college account (mine was @bayou.uh.edu, Go Coogs!) to join the site itself. Nothing was available outside FB itself. It inherently started as an older social group (as opposed to MySpace); it eventually included corporations & established communities to join. In 2006 it finally opened up to allow anyone to register as long as they attached themselves to a region / community (interesting to note even then there were privacy concerns in the article itself) and thus FB grew tremendously.

At the same time though, FB started running from a privacy centric approach to an advertiser driven model.

Two great posts regarding this history of privacy erosion are pretty on point. 1st, the Electronic Frontier Foundation’s Facebook’s Eroding Privacy Timeline article lifts directly from FB’s terms of service and illustrates the companies’ continuing disregard. However, an even better illustration is below and lifted from Mack McKeon’s blog. The main image is below in animated GIF form (click on the graphic to make larger):

The illustration shows how default settings have changed since 2005; FB has gradually changed the dissemination of your information since it’s inception, from friends and networks to that dude in Nigeria trying to give you 1 million in your bank acct. (I’ll show you how to change your settings in part 2.)

The lack of control over others use of YOUR information

So you and your buddies are awesome, huh? Y’all go to the club, plan parties, hang out at a BBQ, all that. However, you like to maintain a certain sense of  privacy while your buddy shares TMI with everyone. Well, guess whose privacy rights are maintained? Whoever allows the greater amount of freedom with the content wins. Hell, even FB tells you to reconsider that connection below, lifted from their TOS on FB:

When you connect with an application or website it will have access to General Information about you. The term General Information includes your and your friends’ names, profile pictures, gender, user IDs, connections, and any content shared using the Everyone privacy setting. … The default privacy setting for certain types of information you post on Facebook is set to “everyone.” … Because it takes two to connect, your privacy settings only control who can see the connection on your profile page. If you are uncomfortable with the connection being publicly available, you should consider removing (or not making) the connection

So when you add that cute boy you met at the club or your friend from elementary, if that person has a relaxed security / privacy profile, your information will be compromised! It’s crazy to think that you have everything set on private and you still have this issue.

Ironically, I am infamous for exploiting loopholes in the FB system. I’ve shown people how to defeat the privacy on pictures by knowing the direct URL, having a friend tagged in one of the photos, or scrolling through a wall post till a link was found. On a supposedly private page. Seriously, it’s unfortunate b/c of the stupid amount of settings that FB requires and thus leaves the possibility of loopholes.

A mess of the “Personal Page, Fan Page, & Group Page”

Facebook has become MySpace 2.0 (w/o the sorry HTML / CSS rendering) once it allowed anyone to register and for profiles outside of people, i.e. bands, businesses, fans, and groups to form. It’s a natural progression but the convoluted designations will trip people up. Here’s where my peeps bear some of the responsibility.

Fan Pages are anything and everything. Group Pages are more defined and meant as a networked Personal Page. Personal Pages are meant to have additional security measures b/c they are inherently personal, hence the name. Thank you Captain Obvious.

However, some of my peeps do not understand this concept.  Great examples are people on FB who are networkers, social butterflies, consultants, etc. Most of the time, these people are genuine and don’t know the difference and disruption they are causing by having an open Personal Page.

Lets say they have an event you attend, they tag you on a picture or they make a comment on your wall saying “Thanks for attending the banquet!” … well, they have inadvertently publicized you.

That picture?

It has you tagged, and someone you don’t know CAN click on it, then click on album, and your previously privatized album is out there to see.

The comment?

Now someone can click “Wall to Wall” and see previous posts, as well as other posts from others who join the convo.

The information gleaned is really remarkable. On a Fan Page, these settings prevent a Fan Page from overriding your privacy settings. A Personal Page supersedes the Fan Page’s settings. Yet when two Personal Pages go up, the one with lesser privacy controls reigns supreme. Makes no sense, but it is what it is.

So even though I like Tin Can Tacos in San Antonio, I will not be adding them as a friend, I will “Like” their Fan Page b/c I do like them. In fact, perhaps they have two accounts for that reason; people who are truly friends of the owner / manager and one page for everyone else who patronizes th establishment.

In any case, some of my friends should consider re-establishing themselves and create separate accounts. Another loophole that I want to mention (that is parallel to privacy) that hasn’t been exploited like I thought it would be (but I’ve seen occasionally) are scrupulous promoters who tag a video with people who have tons of friends, even though those people have nothing to do with the video. What happens is if those people have the box checked below

where friends can post on your wall, well guess what? Mr. Cr8AnAd just did promo for free on a ton of peoples pages, reaching hundreds thousands.

Lastly, just to drive the main point home, here’s one last graphic from the New York Times. I will detail what I did re: purging my list tomorrow & how you can be better protected privacy wise, from tips to actual social networking substitutes in the making…

Movie crashing is my term for watching several movies (in each movies’ entirety, not the last 20 minutes of The Bourne Ultimatum and claiming you saw the film and it was ok) through careful planning, manipulation, and of course, outright theft. Movie crashing, when done right, means you watch several movies; two movies are too easy. Three movies makes it worthwhile, and four is for the gusto. If you actually capture five movies, YTMND! However, at six movies in one sitting, you are a threat to the MPAA and should be handled so. I’ve managed five movies before but never quite got six. It’s the Holy Reel of movie crashing, the mythical, ass numbing marathon people may claim but can never verify. The timing, the swiftness, every element has to be in sync like it’s a predestined planetary alignment for you to accomplish the feat… I once took my boys movie crashing, along with my friend Theresa, her daughter Dominique and her friend, who’s name I can not remember, but she looked like a Bertha or Samantha. Something like that.

DISCLAIMER: None of these involve theft of entertainment services, but they were the only movie related arrests I could muster and serve as my warning towards committing any criminal activity at the local cinema.

Movie crashing involves a certain element of risk, and with most of my friends, they have no risk in them. Honestly, I find many of my friends skeptical to the idea that you can watch two movies (three movies or more? blasphemy!) without paying. After my explanation, the disbelief turns to outright refusal, with a quick motion of cleaning ones hands and saying ” I don’t wanna get arrested!” It’s funny though, when I say I can download Season 1 of Glee though, oh yea, they can be accomplices, but lets watch several movies in a row or help me bury this chicks body, nah, they all innocent, talking ’bout “I dunno, I don’t wanna get caught and sent to pound me in the ass prison…”

Movie crashing, when done right, will never lead to anything as the such. My good friend Sarah and I have movie crashed so many times before, I mean, I think we easily saw every movie released in 2007, most of which were ok. In fact, after a couple of times, you will see the efficiency and frugality, along with the cheap 15 milligrams of adrenaline your body produces because of the illegal activity starting to dwindle. Plus, its better than trying crack yo! It gets progressively easier the more you do it, kinda like crack. i am not advocating using crack, I’m just saying though…

Theresa was especially doubtful but I detected a glint in her eye that sparked with mischiviousness and excitement. I ain’t gonna lie, its old hat to me. My boys and I have done it a couple times, so they are veterans as well. My boys will literally pick two or three movies they want to see and then say “Here Daddy, plan it out…” like I’m some sort of concierge service for kids.

As evidenced by the excitement, these people are watching Schindler’s List

Movie crashing involves two main phases:

(1) Planning.

• What movies are you willing to see and what do you want to see.  You should get online or get the paper, but once you get to the movies, make sure you confirm the times. Find our durations, and remember, if you in a crunch, most movies have about 10 minutes in previews, so plan accordingly.
• Movie crashing is much more accessible on Mondays – Thursdays amd Sunday afternoons. During these times, ushers and managers are on thinner schedules, where on weekends they usually double the personnel. Yes, after my many years of experience, I have valuable recon that serves me very well. Anyways, these low turnout days are excellent.
• On off weekends you can also get in and out the movie showings pretty easily. By off weekends, I mean weekends that are not premiering a blockbuster. On these non Michael Bay weekends, theater isn’t as prepped or worried about it the capacity and required tickets.
• Don’t try to plan to watch the latest, 1st run movies. Usually, ushers will be obstacles and are placed by the new movies. Lines at any movie usually mean ticket verifications, so just skip it. 3rd week and older movies are prime for exploitation. you can watch one 1st run movie and I’ll explain how in a bit…
• The layout of the theater is important. If the theaters are spaced out and the movies you plan to see require quite a bit of walking, a careful, observant, non weeded out usher may notice you. In SA, I know the guys at the Silverado are on Shawshank Redemption mode, waiting on some Tommy Williams to try his luck. (ok, the payoff was way too long on that one… lets try it again…)
• The layout of the theater is important. If the theaters are spaced out and the movies you plan to see require quite a bit of walking, a careful, observant, non weeded out usher may notice you. In SA, I know the guys at the Silverado are on some COD shit, waiting on a group of peeps so they can kill there plans on sitting through flicks. Instead, I go to the Mayan…

Southside baby!

The Santikos Mayan Palace 14 is perfect to movie crash and watch your movies without fear of a witchhunt. Most workers are youngsters, discontent because the jerkface manager didnt give em Friday off for her cousins quince, and readily acceptable to your act of defiance b/c they can say they were a part of it to their friends. You also have the 16 year old, hickey covered thug who gives a rather impressive set of directions to the Mayan’s confined theater space. Its easy there, and the free refills on popcorn and soda is great.

For my Houston peeps, the Tinseltown 290 location is fantastic!

Northwest Side baby! (wtf?!?)

Tinseltown USA along 290 isn’t the newest nor most attractive theater in Houston. However, what it lacks in aesthetic appeal it makes up for in convenience and ease of access in movie crashin’. The theater is split between two wings but the general lack of apathy among employees allows for constant movement between screens. I love the fact the jalapeños  are still free and available for mass consumption.

Dude, you’re freaking awesome! You’re 1st in line to see Jackass: the Movie!

(2) Ticket Purchase

Easily the MOST important step. After planning which movies you are gonna watch, buy tickets for the LAST MOVIE you plan to watch. For example, when Theresa & I planned to buy tickets, we bought tickets for the 410 showing of Bedtime Stories but sneaked into Marley & Me at 210. The usher didn’t check the time, and if he did, he didn’t care (yea Tinseltown 290 indifference!). We all bought popcorn and sodas and went along our merry way. (Also, if you want to see that 1st run movie, it has to be the last movie you see. The usher will more than likely check the ticket so if catching Iron Man 2 on the IMAX is a must, purchase accordingly.)

See, buying tickets to your last showing ensures you entry to the 1st movie, as no one will question you on your 1st bucket of popcorn and soda. You can watch the movie with no problems. The 2nd movie is easy, especially since you already have the tickets for that show. If you walk around all tippy toeing and shit, whistling “Old Dixie” and making it pretty obvious, well, thats crazy and you deserve to be caught. I can’t coach you on how to act cool, you just gotta have it; that sounded mad conceited, but i think you catch my drift, ya dig? *rolls eyes* Buying tickets to the 1st show negates any right you have of being there after that showing so a late ticket still tecnically entitles you to be there. Once you make it to your last show, well, you get off scot free!

Imagine ladies, if you will, if your boyfriends’ name was Scott Free, and your pops caught you in bed with him and he said “Hey, you get off Scott Free!” Imagine the confusion, I mean, is he giving you a pass, whether out of concern for Scott’s health, he’s especially generous that day, or is he telling you to stop making out with him? Come to think of it, Dred Scott, “Great Scott!”, Scott Goodyear, and to a lesser extent, Scottie Pippen, have been important parts of American culture. Incidentally, none of my friends are named Scott…

Anyways, in this example & in a funny sign that God looked down upon me and “wink wink” ‘ed at the whole escapade, as soon as soon as Bedtime Stories was over, Hotel For Dogs was just starting right next door! How sublimely fortuitous that, even as I had things to do, my boys making the call and Theresa’a newfound thrill persuaded me to take in this Hotel For Dogs movie, which, btw, had no plausible story line. I mean, a hotel for dogs. Although we got pet spas I can’t fathom a hotel specifically catering to canines.

A few tips regarding movie going in general:

• You’re not a cheap ass if you buy snacks or food from the HEB instead of the concessions. Yo, you can buy at bulk at the local grocer, but the movieplex wants to rob you clean! I spent about 70 bucks on food that Sunday, so in effect, I paid for the movies anyways. I know some people sneak in boxes of chicken and pizza but you gotta draw the line somewhere. I say if it fits in the purse then it works. (cargo pants for us fellas.)
• Marley & Me > Hotel For Dogs > Bedtime Stories. The grammatically bed stricken Marley and Me is a sweet movie that shows just how close a pet is and can really be part of ones family. Not as kiddy as I thought, but great nonetheless.
• Don’t leave your purse in the theater. Theresa forgot her purse over at the incredulous Hotel For Dogs (groan) and I rushed in like Reggie Bush through the exit doors while evading tackles, little kids, and random tubs of popcorn. After my 20 yard scramble, I huffed to the mid level seats and safely retrieved the backpack, I mean, purse. I was a hero to a small group of movie crashing warriors. It was fun to see lil Sammy and lil Rodrigo blazing through the crowds and taking credit for the purse. However, in the long run, had someone taken the purse, I’m sure the MPAA would say “Karma’s a bitch…” especially if it were lost during Hotel for Dogs.

Lastly, I thought Hotel For Dogs was horrible…

The gang and I went to Cowboys, but Moni and I were the only ones dumb / brave enough to do it.

I would comment individually on them but they say a picture is worth a 1000 words and this blog alone is about 2200 so we cool…

The night started ominously enough as soon as I entered. Monica’s family was introduced and I became the subject of conversation. I could overhear the slight chattering back and forth as the “thats Rodrigo” turned into “he’s Monica’s date” to ” I hope she doesnt fuck him up”… nah, Im playin about that 1st phrase, but it was funny to engage with her mom and talk with her dad. i practically was handed Monica over after some debate and discussion. We had several interesting talks regarding personal freedoms, the right to protect ones property, and of course, politics. Senator President Obama, you better thank me for “dropping an ounce of MTBE in the aquifer” with these peeps. I was by planting seeds and letting that shit pollinate. (Note: Thats a horrible analogy re: MTBE as it is a pollutant but quite soluble, which were the grounds of my analogy and was… forget it) Anyways, we spoke and shared drinks as the night kept going.

Yes, there was a skill crane, and of course, I won several prizes that i handed out to little kids. I always win at those things. Girls should not fall for the “Hey, I won, I guess being with you is lucky for me, huh?” line b/c I already knew i was gonna win regardless. In fact, if I lose it’s b/c of you. you already eroding my game and now you gotta give chase to my crane skillios?

she was all up on me screaming… Yeah, yeah…” /// Micahel Jackson moves were pretty Thrilling…

We had a blast and we headed home… I woke up the next morning with a sharp pain on my right thumb, and looking it over it was swollen pretty bad. I, however, knew exactly when it happened, although some claim it was during my last thumb war championships. Nah, it was while doing the Cha Cha Slide. Yup, when he says how low can you go, I went low, limbo low, and when I popped back up, well, you’re supposed to use both hands or no hands. I used one hand and all the pressure went on that hand. I managed to pop up, but my thumb immediately went back and I felt it tighten. No problem, as the rest of the night I stayed off my right thumb while dancing (lol) and maintained. It still hurts.

I was going to pick my boys up from school, which I’m sure will still happen. I’m pretty sure I would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing Sammy as a lil Billie Jean and Rodrigo as the Thriller Michael Jackson. I’m really happy I got those costumes in time for his Friday Spooktacular at school. Rodrigo prolly would’ve told me how everyone thought his Michael Jackson act was spot on and when his lil brother looked like Billie Jean and did some silly dance moves how everyone thought it was the best. Rodrigo speaks that way, exchanging “refreshed” for “feeling better” and “preoccupied” with “worried”.

On our trip back to San Antonio would’ve been uneventful; I know the boys would be mad that I made them change into regular clothes but they always get syrup and chocolate whenever we eat at the Waffle House before we head back to SA. My boys always over order so I know I would’ve ordered some smothered biscuits and then eat whatever they leave behind. More so Sammy, as Rodrigo is devouring plates of food, or perhaps even inhaling them. I’m not sure b/c of the speed in which he eats. Afterwards, Rodrigo would insist that we give our change to the man outside. I know I’m cynical but Rodrigo and Sammy always remind it’s ok to have hope. So I’m hoping that guy doesn’t spill his beer while getting into that overpass.

The drive this time would’ve been different b/c I had some ghost stories I kinda memorized so I could tell them. I say kinda b/c I usually paraphrase all my stories because, to my own amusement of course, I think I can tell them better. Sammy would’ve been asking all his questions while Rodrigo tried to answer them in a pompous manner. Sammy knows Rodrigo is smart, maybe even smarter, but Rodrigo doesn’t credit his brother enough and Sammy likes the stealthy nature he carries.

We would’ve landed at my sister’s house because she’s always welcomed us to her house. I like my parents house but I gotta admit, the smile their cousin Joaquin has when he sees his cousins is priceless. “Sammy en Wowigo!” followed by hugs. After about 30 minutes of winding down, we’d hop into the Suburban and drive to the Southside. The Southside has about 10 haunted houses that spring up; peoples actually fix up their home with doors, sheets, paint, chain link fence, I mean just about anything. The best one is the one behind Taco Cabana on Military. Even after a 30 minute wait in line, Rodrigo and Sammy would’ve been scared. I was last year when I went.

We’d head back to my sister’s home and play Wii. I mean, the boys don’t play b/c they get grounded for, according to them, “stuff they didn’t do”. Yea right, I know my boys. The fact we did homework on the way over here and Rodrigo read to his brother is enough for me to reward them. However, Sammy prolly threw a tantrum at WalMart when I stopped for some party deco b/c he wanted Transformers 2 on Blue Ray. Even so, we play MarioKart and Sammy prolly gets 1st place on Mushroom Gorge.

On Saturday, my boys and I would’ve gone to the playground near my sister’s house. The kids there are pretty cool and my boys are real sociable. I mean, most kids are, but especially Rodrigo who can beat you down with his speeches, explanations, and ramblings, just like Daddy. The playground is nice and I would’ve gotten in some laps around the nearby track before we left.

My boys would be asking for McDonald’s but instead we make bacon and eggs and pancakes at my parents house. Mom would’ve been so happy seeing the boys and speaking her broken English to them while my boys would’ve been using the quasi Spanish they are learning from school instead of their parents. Moms gets disheartened but I always tell her that hugs and kisses are the universal language. Pops would’ve gotten mad at that and say the typical macho bullshit he’s infamous for and then ask me about my personal finances. After undoubtedly ignoring him, we would’ve all eaten my Mom’s fantastic food and then sit on the couch with our bellys protruding and watching KLRN. The boys would just relax in my arms as Fetch w/ Ruff Ruffman would present quizzes and questions I would’ve answered.

As 3 approaches, my boys would’ve gotten dressed up and since my mom has some wigs from her salon classes, the outfits would finally be perfect. I finally unleash my version of Michael Jackson, the version where he looks like Prince, except Prince never had multiple plastic surgeries or looked frail or sported shades and long black hair. Actually I think Prince did. At 330 we start, and even though it’s a small crowd, it’s everyone we care about. Roger and his wife Gina obviously made it, not dressed in costumes but they are prolly headed to Third Eye’s ’09 Halloween Bash at WiseGuys with Light Grenades. Sarah and her kids made it too, and Roxanne showed up with her little ones. My sister’s friends made it too, and even though they don’t know Rodrigo like that, the support would’ve been noticed. Rodrigo is getting a bit superficial in that sense, but I guess most kids are.

We would’ve put magic candles on Rodrigo’s cake. He wouldn’t fall for it, as he would’ve dipped each candle in a cup of water he specifically asked for before we started. As he would’ve planned it, I’m sure he was showing people how smart he was when in fact he’s showing he forsakes a good time with showing off his intellect. I’m sure while recounting this to you would’ve been quick to point out that he gets all the bad stuff from me. I would’ve just blown you off like countless other times.

After Sarah’s boy Gage annihilated the pinata and everyone had eaten cake, we’d all go off on our own little trips. Trick or Treat this year would’ve been in several neighborhoods. As much as I love the Southside, I know it’s at Balcones Hieghts and the King William district where the best candy is given out. I would’ve told the boys that to maximize candy output to go in seperate groups; as the group is larger, the candy giver will predetermine the amount of candy for groups. So, the smaller the number of Trick Or Treaters in a group, the smaller the candy given out but the larger the fraction. It’s all based on variables, and after the exhaustive explanation Sammy would’ve replied “Can we go get candy now?”

Trick or Treatin’ would’ve lasted till about 10 or 11. We would’ve gone to other Haunted Houses and finally landed at my sister’s house. I would try to coax the boys into sleeping so I could head out to see Nathan and the gang at Wiseguy’s but, after countless texts from Roger asking me if Im going (and countless texts assuring him of my arrival) I would’ve realized that I was exactly where I wanted to be all along, with Sammy on my left arm and Rodrigo fighting the sleep by playing more MarioKart.

Sunday would’ve been like any other Sunday, I’m sure. Get up late, bathe, clothes, fix up the backpacks, and eat breakfast at some taqueria of my Pop’s choosing. After the boys ordered hamburgers or pancakes, and after my Pop’s scolding of ordering non Mexican food at a Mexican joint, we all would’ve ignored him and given him a hug and a kiss goodbye. Mom, while saying “I wheel miss ju”, gives the boys some pan dulce they can eat on the road. I would’ve thanked my mom for the future sugar rush but that would’ve been kinda hypocritical. I mean, I did give my boys drum sets so they could take home and encouraged them to practice for hours.

Rodrigo would’ve been playing on the Nintendo DS I gave him for his birthday and Sammy would be watching him the entire way down. I would’ve realized that I should’ve bought them a pair a long time ago. Sammy and Rodrigo would’ve like to stop at the Kingsbury Rest Stop. It has a whole playground set that is brand new. I would’ve let them as they get to release some energy before we continue on home.

As we pull up, I know the boys would ask me again why we gotta leave. I would’ve told them the same thing I tell them every time; it’s not a choice we have. Once we have that choice, we can discuss it then. Rodrigo knows this but Sammy is going through it now. Rodrigo did the same at his age, and Sammy too will become adjusted to the weekends he can look forward to. I tell the boys that we are a family and that I love them both.

I would’ve driven straight back to San Antonio since I have that contract job in Austin. Every time I drive back to SA, I drive back and stop at the Buckeye’s in Luling. I would’ve done it, and I am sure I will no matter how this weekend turns out. I always remember Rodrigo asking me if he could pick what days he was with me. I told him that he can talk to you about that. Rodrigo told me he did and that you were upset when he said “All of them”.

I’ll prolly just chill for a little bit in the parking lot, tired from driving. Tired of the supposed ‘best interest of my sons” talk. Tired of the posturing. It’s not even drama, it’s just annoyance. An irritant. I’ll see my boys, I know that much. I just had a lot planned this weekend. I really think it would’ve been awesome. I know it would have. I know I would’ve been tired from it all. Strangely enough, I’m already tired.

Rodrigo, of course, looks in disbelief but quickly claims a moral victory by proclaiming “Eh, it doesnt matter. She wouldnt be with you anyways…”

You know me, I got off the damn truck, spit some game, and had her in the ride doing… ok, that didn’t happen. I was intrigued and asked Rodrigo what he meant.

“Well, to be with a girl, you have to have a nice car or truck, nice clothes, and lots of money.”

“What? Where did you hear that from?”

“I don’t know, but I think that’s what it is.”

“No, lil Poppa, you’re wrong. Look, you want me to tell you the three things you need to do to get with any girl?” Lil Rodrigo looked like a student discovering Fermat’s Last Theorem or some shit. Rodrigo’s big beautiful, dark eyes (which he did get form his mom) yearned to learn. Little Sammy just sat attentively like I would be quizzing him later.

I’m not raising my boys to be players, but nor am I raising them to be suck ups and lames. I refuse to sugarcoat it for them as well, pretending that being anything but yourself is ok. F that.

“Ok, there are three things you need to do to get with any woman.” Rodrigo looked patiently, while Sammy seemed quizzical, wondering why we would care what cootie filled women want. Sammy listened in though knowing (I think) this info may come in handy.

“1st, you have to be honest. It’s important to be honest, every time. If you can show that you are willing to stand true to your ideals, and that you are trusty kinda guy, you’re in.”

“2nd, you gotta listen to women speak. Women like to speak. ALOT. Sometimes they talk too much, but it’s part of the deal. You can’t just nod and say ‘Yup’ and whatever. You gotta listen. Women wanna empathize. They —”

“What’s empathize mean?”

” It means you relate, that you can share what you feel.”

“Yea, Margaret likes to talk talk talk, yappity yap yap” as Rodrigo clasp his hand together, somewhat reminiscent of a woman yammering away. “Margaret asks me about my day and stuff.”

“Do you listen to her?”

“Kinda.”

“Work on it.”

“Ok Daddy. Whats the last one?”

“Lastly, you have to be funny. Women say they want all kinds of things. But Poppa, the greatest thing they want is to feel good. Laughter is the best way. No woman is gonna say “Man, I hope I can find a guy who can get me really angry’ or ‘That guy over there looks depressing. I wanna talk to him’. No, Poppa, they want to feel good after a long day at work, school, being with the kids. Whatever. Anything, you can be perceptive, sarcastic, tell jokes, say — “

“Dad, that’s a problem. I’m not that funny.”

My poor lil Rodrigo does have a blunted sense of humor. No, he’s not high. Rodrigo’s humor is more a combination of yesterday’s science class facts and a slight variation that adds something useless. “Why does the sun set in the West?” ” The East is mad it sets there.” Yea, his humor is much more muted.

“Ok, I got a plan, from now on, every weekend and every evening we hang out, I have to tell you a joke. You’ll learn jokes and you’ll tell them to your friends.”

Rodrigo’s eyes once again gleamed and he immediately asked for his joke.

“A blind man walks in to a department store with his seeing eye dog on a leash. As usual the store manager behind the customer service counter looks up, and nearly stops the hound and his owner from entering when he realizes that the customer is blind.

The blind man calmly replies “No thanks – I’m just looking around.”

My boys laughed hard, cus my jokes go hard yo! Ugh. Nah, I’m playing, but my boys were laughing over my sound effects(yes, I’m animated and give it my all with these jokes). We laughed and had a great Wednesday evening.

The next Wednesday, my boys and I ate at Luby’s and were relaxing. Somehow, Rodrigo brought up his friend Margaret always yapping away and I quickly asked him to repeat the 3 Keys to Getting Girls. Rodrigo listed them, with the help of his fingers.

“You have to be honest. And, umm, you have to listen to them and…” as he curled up his fist, said “… you gotta sock em in the face!”

Sammy and looked at each other like wtf and I turned, somewhat laughing, and spoke to Rodrigo.

“What the hell, where did you get that from?”

Rodrigo coolly replied ” I was trying to be funny Daddy.”

OH SNAP! Rodrigo out gamed Pops! You cannot fathom how fuckin awesome that was! I was so proud, beamin from ear to ear. I rubbed both my boys hair in that typical Mexican father telling his son “eres cabron mijo” but without saying it.

“Yes Poppa, you’re funny… and so much more…”

I had a chance encounter- well, before I start this, Im pretty sure some fella out there will say that I’m gay for even noticing what Im writing up. Well, Im not. I would say “Fuck You” but you would prolly say something like “Ha, I bet” and so on. Anyways…

I met a friend somewhat unexpectedly who I hadn’t seen in awhile at the bar for drinks ( I wasn’t there to meet him but whatever) and “Bill” (still using the NHC’s 2009 Name List) was acting pretty wild. No, he isnt a Hickok but he obviously had a few drinks in him. However, as if the lame attempts towards guessing our drinks weren’t attention grabbing enough (and by attention grabbing I mean like in an accident on the other side of the road where you drive really slowly and shake your head in that sad, sad way) he was wearing a shirt that was too tight.

No seriously, I fit in this shirt. I can also walk on water.

Ok, so it wasn’t that tight, and he also had an undershirt that was- oh, man, hold up, that’s something I should address in detail.

Real quick (now that’s a lie), if you wear any undershirt, it needs to fuckin match. You are old enough now that a navy blue shirt with several accented colored stripes means a black shirt or dark navy under shirt, not hot orange or yellow mustard. A white undershirt is ok, especially at work, and even passable compared to some of the shit others wear; but a good look is a black undershirt or a dark accenting color. No, it’s not gay to fuckin match dog, it just looks nice. ”Bill” had an unbelievable color scheme of a baby blue undershirt and a maroon based button down with lavender and similar color accented vertical stripes. WTF man?  I guess it’s better than having an undershirt with print on the back.

Oh man, you ever seen that shit? Some dude walking into the club with some “Fresh Azimiz” gear, wearing retro Jordan 11s, some dope Southpole denim, and a crisp white Polo thats real white or ______ (or insert any light color here). Homie walks past you and you can read off his back the undershirt he’s wearing that says “South Texas Blood Center: Helping Save Lives” or a company name and phone number above his softball number in some big ass vinyl shit that you know makes him sweat. I mean, come on man, Wal Martz got them joints at 7 dollars a pack for 10, with the black/ maroon/ navy blues for a little more. I mean, homie, ok, you got game, but no one one wants to see a Nike Swoosh peeking through your Lacoste yellow Knit Polo. All that dope ass gear and you gotta sport the Texas Lottery shirt you got for free at the mall for spinning some fucking wheel underneath the crisp Express button down.

“Let me take a picture of my old ass undershirt and put it on Myspace”

Lastly, the investment is a short term investment. Homie, if you’re a baller or a hustla and wanna look the part, restock on them white tees. Once

• (a) the shirt gets faded
• (b) the underarms look like a Pugs face
• (c) the neck is stretched out or
• (d) all of the above

it’s time to get a reup. I don’t want a 07 Shelby Mustang Convertible and find out its running a fucking 210 horsepower 4.0 V6 underneath; likewise, chicks out there Im sure don’t want some dude with bad ass Marc Jacobs shit and then some old ass Hanes shirt that looks like it’s made up entirely of lint particles. I think it’s also a matter of practicality.

Homie has an undershirt but its’ so busted he has to keep the stained shirt on. Admittedly that food stain is impressive. (Note: I would’ve stained that shirt too; that’s an ugly ass shirt)

I’ve had to remove my button down shirt after a night of serious dancing, after a lunch / dinner / Denny’s at 2:30 AM meal accident or when it’s “that time”. I put that time in quotes so that you know I still care. You gotta have a decent back up, ya know? It’s happened a few times where you go out and, you know, “spend the night” w/o an extra set of clothes… shit, I just take off the button down, untuck the undershirt, and rock a casual look to church on sunday at 11:00.  Sidenote:  Some of y’all women plan carefully are sneaky and smart with your “emergency” set of clothes in the trunk of the 06 Lexus… yea, you know who you are.

Back on point though, check the picture out.No, not the previous two, the 1st one.  OK, so homie didn’t look that busted. However, his nice button down was too tight.  Seriously, it looked like the left and right sides of his shirts were angry at each other like an old couple who sleep on different beds; his shirt had an attitude and it wasn’t taking the other sides bullshit tonight. Nope! Or maybe it was his right side of the shirt wanted those buttons all to itself so his shirt was in a constant state of tug of war. Maybe “Bill” was recreating his audition for the Pussycat Dolls when they were filming that video with Snoop. Who the fuck knows, but his shirt was way too tight.

Oblivious to the fact he was, but I was like damn. I quickly pointed out to my best friend “Roger” (ok, that’s his real name, but whatever) that if I ever came out like that to quickly knock me the fuck out. “Roger” eagerly complied and even asked if he could get to punch me for other minor clothes violations like wearing too much of any kinda questionable color (like salmon or lavendar, which is a bullshit rule) or asking more than once if my hair looks ok (another bullshit rule). “Roger” typically wears “comfort functional” clothing that is not made to impress but, since he’s got his wifey who makes up for his lack of aesthetic appeal, well, he can do as he fuckin pleases. I would too.

“Bill” wandered aimlessly like those beetles at night out on your porch that fly around the lights until they hit something. One note that was interesting was “Bill” ‘s apparent lack of giving a fuck. Alcohol? It could have been. Fear of the unknown? Possibly. Lack of funds? No way. No matter the case, “Bill” provided a good example of instincts that have been frayed like the AC adapter to your laptop computer, twisted and unsheathed with time.

It never hurts to get a girls (or your homeboys) advice before heading out. Trust me, in SA, I usually ask my sister for the thumbs up before I head out. When I stay at a hotel, I usually ask one of the cleaning ladies if I look ‘cool’. Unfortunately, the sanitizing matrons usually tell me “Estas muy guapo!” with all the sincerity my mom possesses. Although my mother is correct, not every mom is, so don’t trust mom dukes when she says her lil mijito is the cutest she knows and she adds “Of course you look great, esa camisa te queda muy bien! You’re shirt looks so nice mijo!”… Ha! Don’t fuckin believe her. “Bill” did.