Treading (Aintu)...

The road
less traveled by
seems desolate and cold,
but perhaps it only needs a
small step to light its warmth,
inviting you
to go...

Finger Lick'n Good (Aintu)

Juicy
roasted chicken,
I eat with my bare hands,
so hot, wait -- the phone is ringing!
No napkins in my reach!
Too late, rings stop -
oh well...

Life at the Driving Range: The Fat Guy, The Short Guy, and the Thin Guy

As most of you know, and to those that are just getting to know me, I am a crap golfer.

I can admit that without being too proud too admit it, and the guys below me I almost hit each week could testify to my claim whole-heartedly. Although I am but a naive dilettante when it comes to this crazy sport, I do require certain things that all golfers need: A decent swing, a good short game, and above all, silence.

I got none of that last night.

I arrive at the range late, and thus, run into the Tuesday night log jam of Pros, Wannabes, and Posers, such as myself. We're a motley mix of various degrees in skill level, coordination, and recreational hazards waiting to happen. Yeah, I should be heading out with a helmet and body armour - but I sooooo do love to live dangerously.

I spot the line for an open patch to hit, and lo and behold, I run into The Fat Guy, The Short Guy, and the Thin Guy. Picture this: Fat Guy is by himself, followed by the empty spot, then Short Guy and Thin Guy hitting next to each other. I'm not exactly sure why they didn't just hit together, but people were coming up behind me, so I grabbed the open spot regardless.

Big, BIg, BIG MISTAKE on my part.

I settle my bag down, grabbing my 3 Iron. I take a few practice swings, stretch, and throw down a golf ball. Wind is blowing from the North, I adjust my weight, pull into my backswing
and --

"HEY! DO YOU GUYS WANT TO PLAY A GAME? LET'S PLAY A GAME!!!!!"

!!!CRINK!!!! I shank the ball about 2 feet from me, scratching a ton of astro-turf. Short Guy yelled through my swing.

With no other spots available, I go into my "happy place" as my ears are subjected to the worst conversation a-la "Who's on First" along with the inability to speak below 6 decibels:

Fat Guy: I'M AIMING FOR THE YELLOW FLAG!
Short Guy: WHICH YELLOW FLAG?
FG: THE YELLOW FLAG! NEAR THE RED ONE!
Thin Guy: THE RED ONE WITH THE GREY STRIPE?
FG: NO, THE OTHER ONE! WITHOUT THE STRIPE!
TG: I DON'T SEE IT!
FG: IT'S RIGHT OVER THERE!
SG: WHERE?
FG: OVER THERE! WHERE I'M POINTING!
TG: I STILL DON'T... OKAY, YOU MEAN "THAT" RED FLAG!!!

You starting to get the idea?

So the "Boys from MENSA" are trying to hit for distance, keeping score in a fashion that even Stephen Hawking can't calculate. In between turns, Fat Guy grabs a sip of his Big Gulp sized chocolate milkshake - that is dripping, mind you, all over the concrete - and burps while alternating between his sand wedge and 6 Iron - yeah, I should know: HE WAS ANNOUNCING IT EVERY SINGLE TIME!

Their balls were flying all over the place. Thin Guy had such a hard swing that his balls flew over the safety net. I could hear the "clink" of roof tiles where the balls impacted (the range is right by a residential neighborhood). When they weren't talking, they were laughing at each other like a band of hyenas doped up on Ritalin. The "cackling" sound from the Short Guy made me grate my teeth.

Again, all this felt like an eternity, and when they were quiet, I could squeeze in a few strokes that were right on. But alas, their presence was added Kryptonite to my mediocre golf swing. I was being pushed to my mental limits for sure. My muscles were tensing, and my grip was in a strangle hold. But I pushed on.

When they finally finished hitting all their balls (Thank the Lord!), I thought I'd finally be free.

Not yet.

As they're packing up their gear, they stop right behind me and have this wonderful, intellectual discussion about what they want to do later:

SG: What do you wanna do tonight?
FG: I don't know but I want to head to the gym first.

Stop right there - let me repeat that: Fat Guy with his own gravitational orbit that still has chocolate on his chin wants to hit the gym? Who does this guy think he's fooling?

TG: Yeah, but wherever we go, I want to grab a shower first.
SG: That means we have to back-track!
TG: So? He wanted to go to the gym!
FG: So what are we gonna do later?
TG: I still want to head home first.
SG: Then I think I might hit the gym too.
TG: When do you guys want to meet back up?

This exchange lasted about 10 minutes or so, but what really blew my mind was that they couldn't walk and talk about this, but instead HAD to stand 3 feet from me debating this as if they were trying to solve peace in the Middle East. Then, Short Guy couldn't stop yammering about his damn new iPod which Thin Guy REALLY couldn't get enough of... but soon, they drifted off in the distance.

And I was left with a lot of pent-up hostility.

I wanted to lose my cool, but since I didn't, I was left searching for a way to channel my "Range Rage". So I looked down, grabbed my 3 Wood, and started knocking the crap out of the golf balls. Screw the zen of golf, I needed to vent!

WHACK!
THWACK!
BAM!

Surprisingly, I'm driving balls about 170-190 yards out - very much to my chagrin. I took out the 5 and 8 Wood, and started bashing those about 150 yards (even rage doesn't make me improve THAT much).

As the rage subsided, I was finally left with the calm I seeked. I had purged the volcanic anger that was festering in me, and boy did I feel better.

My golf swing saved me last night.

And those 3 idiots.

They should thank my 3 Wood.

Super Winks... ;)

Weilding Iron (Senryu)...

Driving Range I go,
work on strokes with 6 and 9 -
watch out for my swing!

Harmony Found While Driving With The Window Down...

The only thing I like about my long commutes in the morning are the ones where I've just bought new music and pop in the CD, letting it rip on the drive in.

Though I don't broadcast it much, I am a closet Jazz fan, and just so happened to pick up the new Diana Krall album "From This Moment On". Okay, so she might be a bit on the mainstream, and some might argue her stylings aren't pure jazz, but hey, I love the way she croons.

Anyway, weather in LA was pretty fair, so I rolled down the window, letting the breeze blow through my scruffy hair as she hits the keys and serenades through what I think is a pretty darn good interpretation of "It Could Happen To You." Now, instead of taking a series of freeways that are absolutely congested, I drive along this street route that gets me pretty close before I have no choice but to get on the on ramp.

Stopping at a red light on an intersection, I pull up next to a car on my left that also had it's windows down - and blasting out something that sounded like a cross between 50 cent and Ludacris, but I can't say for certain. But to say that he was loud would be like saying the Grand Canyon is a tiny gorge in the ground. I mean, the subwoofers reverberated on the pavement so much I thought it'd trigger the San Andreas at any second!

Now, I'm not exactly sure why I did what I did next, but for some reason, I reached over to my volume knob and turned it a couple notches up. Diana is now screaming at the top of her lungs, sort of drowning out the Hip-Hop Video that is emanating from the car beside me.

The driver turns down his volume and screams out toward me. I turn to him, and couldn't make out what he asked me. I turn down my volume, shouting back,"What?"

The driver leans closer to the passenger side window. "I said, 'Who the hell is that?' "

"It's Diana Krall."

He looks at me for a sec, then replies back with something that I would have never expected:

"That shit's pretty tight."

Light turns green. He blasts out in front of me at near light-speed, his volume clearly cranked back up as he "thumps" away in the distance. I never catch back up to him.

I continue on my way to the on ramp, turn up Diana, and watch the world drift by. A smile crosses my face as I wonder about the harmony that drives us all... ;)

Sundays: When All I Really Wanted To Do Was Do Nothing...

Ah, Sunday - day of rest, day of church, day of football. I've lived by two rules pertaining to what I consider a relaxing Sunday:

1. Never run errands or go shopping for supplies on Sunday.
2. Follow Rule Number 1.

Gee, guess what rules I broke today?

Realizing that I wouldn't be able to live off of Diet Coke and Sun-Chips all week (but I did once back in college), I got my ass off the couch and hit the road to the local Costco, which I believe is Navajo for "Land of the 5 Gallon Mayonnaise."

You see, the reason why I hate shopping on Sundays is because EVERYONE shops on Sundays. I blame this on the theory of relative behavior: People tend to spend Saturdays out and about, and naturally, putting off shopping until the very last second. With this similar mentality of procrastination, we converge at Costco all at the same time. God help you if you grab the last copy of Grey's Anatomy Season 1 and someone else wants it too. Seriously, it's like "Lord of the Flies" out there.

Parking is always the first challenge - everyone wants to park close, and no one likes to park far. Cars literally stalk shoppers like prey - pouncing on a potential parking spot the first chance they get. Turn signals are used, but some people steal other people's spots anyway. This usually causes some sort of Jerry Springer-ish behavior from the drivers involved in the argument over a spot, but luckily, I avoided this by parking only slightly farther away from the store.

Shopping carts are always scarce, so I usually just pick one up from the Cart Return area. Again, not a lot of people do this, so they wait at the front of the store until one of the workers brings back a whole ton of carts from the parking lot. Then it's like a whole feeding frenzy as people elbow each other for their own carts, hopefully one with wheels that work and don't squeak. Yeah, a little planning goes a long way.

Navigating the store is a lot like navigating rush hour traffic - there are lanes that move well, and then there are those shoppers that just stop in the middle of an aisle, and drift off somewhere as if they're cart ran out of gas. I just wish people could apply their driving skills to their cart pushing skills, but I believe some people really do drive like they push their carts, and that makes me worried and sad.

After getting the essentials I need - basically, Diet Coke, Sun Chips, and some deli meat (I got other stuff too), I proceed to checkout, which is an entirely different zoo-like setting all together. For some strange reason, the people in the checkout lines at Costco start behaving like Lemmings - usually people will stick to a lane unless someone else points out a lane that is not so busy. I wanted to move to an emptier lane, but the lady in front of me wouldn't budge, and I was nudged between the Snickers Bars and the Assorted Nuts section. Then, when I had the chance to move out, a worker passes by and says "Hey, you can also use this lane." Gee, you think?

Now, Lemmings or not, I think people are afraid of switching lanes because they believe they'll be saddled with the one that looks short, but ends up being the line that takes the longest - bad signs, such as old people pulling out checkbooks, or people with a fist-full of double coupons in their posession, become valid concerns. In fact, the lane that I was in before had all of these, so I was sad for the unsuspecting people behind me that did not see this.

As I am putting my items on the conveyer, the couple behind me are ramming my cart forward, as if they're kinetic energy could move my actions and their exit out of this madhouse faster. One nudge, I could take, but they almost rear-ended my ass with another push, their faces unapologetic - then they looked at me as if I just told them to go f--k themselves. Go figure.

Now, when it comes to checkout clerks, I usually encounter two kinds: Either they are the "how are you doing?" kind where they strictly look at their monitors and scan your items with laser-guided missile proficiency, or they are the "Chatty Cathy's" that tend to make an effort of connecting with you as if our exchange was akin to a round of Speed Dating.

Of course, guess which one I got?

The checkout person and her partner were both cute women, but the checkout girl was talking to me as if she was trying to make a love connection. Frankly, any other day I would have indulged her, but with the impatient couple uncomfortably next to me and giving me the worst Evil Eye I've had in 3 months, I was a little off my game. Her equally cute partner noticed that I also picked up the new John Mayer CD and started giving me her "Rolling Stone critique" of it. Again, any other day, I would have indulged her too, but was glad that she didn't comment on any of my other purchases, like my wart cream.

Yes, I'm kidding about the wart cream.

And finally, making my final approach out of the store, you usually have to pass through these people that look at your receipt to make sure that what you bought matches the amount of items in your cart. As always, there are two kinds of workers that do this: There's the kind that takes it seriously enough to glance at the items and move you along, and then there's the kind that look at your receipt and count EVERY SINGLE ITEM in your cart as if you were going through the Customs Inspection at the U.S./Mexico Border.

Is it even worth guessing which one I got?

Just because I got distracted for a brief second, I got stuck with Mrs. I.N.S. who was checking my cart as if I was packing explosives or something. She looks at my receipt not, once, but TWICE, and then carefully scans through my cart. I watch people in the lane next to me cruise on by, one guy even gave me a look that said "Tough luck bro, I feel for ya." I gave him the "Thanks Bro" nod back, and after an excrutiating 3 minutes later, I was finally out of there.

If you made it to the end of this tirade, I thank you kindly. I know, I could be trying to write something more prolific, but hey, sometimes you just gotta vent, and that's what makes America, great.

Super Winks!... ;)

Piece for PictureSpeak XI: Ascent

Miles still left to traverse through
vast terrain of rocks and trees,
each step harder than the last -
my body grows weary,
yet my faith, does not
as it pushes me over and
beyond what I thought
were my limits -
standing at the summit
I should be looking out
but instead look within,
wondering what good
is any of this without you
here to share it with...

Dirty Work (Senryu)...

Karma has no fists
so it asked me to knock out
that jerk - karma served...

Random Haiku #61

NO NEED TO SHOUT, Bro
I am standing next to you -
turn down the iPod...

Apparently, I look like a Movie-Star Goddess...

In the most random comment I received last night during tennis, a woman - who we shall call "Rachel" - said, "Hey, you look like Angelina Jolie."

Okay, I'm gonna let you soak this comment in for a moment.

Enough time?

No? Still need a couple more seconds?

My sarcasm was revved up in those nano-seconds: Is it because of my pouty lips, sultry eyes, or my perfectly formed ass? Or the curve of my hips? No, it's probably my contoured-ample bosom that gives me away...

I was confused and curious at the same time. "Really? Why do you think I look like her?"

Rachel looks at me and says, "Well... what you're wearing... it's all black. Just like Angelina."

Apparenty I was to infer that my all-black outfit consisting of athletic shorts and micro-knit sweat shirt made me look like Lara Croft from "Tomb Raider."

Sadly, a part of me wishes that it was my ass that gave me the "Jolie Quality"...

Oh, Canada! - The Vacation 2006, Part 3: Niagara, We Almost Missed Ya...

Although I had been to Niagara Falls many, many, many years ago, my father and I thought heck, why not, right? I was there, it was there, it all seemed to work out for the best. Anything for an excuse to go out for a drive on the Canadian highways...

As you can see, the early morning wake-up did not agree with me. Good thing the camera was set to "Morning Stun" and not "Thunder-wake Kill".

The drive there was pretty uneventful. Since I am not quite as chipper in the morning, and, well, let's face, I was barely awake, my father did the first leg of the drive while I played navigator/manning-the-radio-CD-player operator. Since Dane Cook seemed to work out so well on the drive from London, I popped in another CD of his, reclined my chair back and cranked it up. My father was laughing in no time, while I, the ever vigilant traveler, fell asleep with the map sprawled on my lap. I swear my finger was at least pointing toward the direction of Niagara.

My father ever so gently slapped me awake for breakfast about an hour later. We stopped off at this hole-in-the-wall diner that served bacon with everything - it was not the kind of place that would be weird if you asked for "Bacon with a side of Bacon," or "Bacon with a side of Peameal", but it would feel strange if you asked them to "hold" the bacon. So, when in Rome, huh? We clutched our chests with every bite...

After raising our cholesterol a few points, we headed back on the road. Having 4 cups of coffee is enough of a jumpstart for me, so I passed over the map to my dad, and I took the reigns for the rest of the drive to the falls.

Things were going according to plan... that is, until we actually got there. You see, back when the city was smaller, and there wasn't the casino, and no TGI-Friday clones to populate the main St. area, one could easily see where the falls were and drive toward them. With the big buildings blocking the luscious falls from view, one either knew how to get there, or one would get lost. Guess which bunch we were?

We discovered later that I had missed a crucial left turn that would have taken us right to the falls and where all the parking was. Instead, we just kept driving straight, going farther and farther away from the falls. However, to justify our loss in sense of direction, we decided that the "detour" around the falls was welcome. Therefore, the town of Chipawa was very charming; the country-club golf course looked very grand and gave just enough bourgoise character to the place without seeming overly pompous.

Many expletives shouted between my father and I later - as to who got who lost, we were struck by the awe and beauty of the falls, though mostly awed at the fact that we hadn't accidentally crossed back into New York. We were getting closer at least...

These were taken along the route "to" the falls. The first pic is the power generating turbines, which are positioned so that as the water runs past, well, the rest is self-explanatory. The second is aimed toward the horizon of the falls. So, are we there yet? Almost!

We went into the Casino first. I don't know what it is about the Canadian security, but they really couldn't believe I was over 21. They kept scrutinizing my Passport - I almost expected a CSI team to pop out to forensically scan my papers and check my DNA or something. Several frustrated minutes later, they gave up their search and let me in. In case you're wondering, we broke even on the Slots after we lost everything in the cup I'm holding.

We're getting warmer...

Ah, the Hershey Store. Anything and everything was related to the chocolate. Naturally, this store had the coldest AC of all.

Now, if the Hershey Store could only sell him, I'd buy one. Nothing like having a giant Hershey Kiss in your backyard as a conversation starter.

I thought it was funny that when I took this pic, some stranger yelled at me "f--king tourist", as he was getting back into his "Niagara Falls Tour" van. Yeah, way to go, pot calling the kettle black... But who can resist taking a pic of a Canadian Mountie statue? Not me!

All right, without further ado, I give you... NIAGARA FALLS!

Okay, okay, it's a little obstructed. How about this?

That's better, right?

Those are the falls where you can take a boat down and ride behind the waterfall.
I hear it's real neat, so I guess I'll do that next time!

This was the only shot I could get with both falls in the same picture.
See! I'm not the only crazy person taking a bajillion pictures of Niagara!

And just to show I was there. Ah, the mist was refreshing!

Since we had gotten there so early, we left in the afternoon to head back
into Toronto to do some more chillin'...

TO BE CONTINUED!

Junk...

Laid out, left out, strewn about
awaiting the opportunity to find
its purpose once more -
does it remember its life before
banishment to the wasteland
of the misplaced and forgotten?
Or has it relegated to its own
servitude of lost usefulness to the
outside world?
Of course, it's potential is only
lacking in the eye that has yet
to behold thee, where the right
moment will come, none too soon...

Platform...

Cold air sweeps the station's steps
and up the train platform
where I wait, gleaning crowds to make
your face among covered-heads
in fedoras and shawls

Last train pulls in, people rush off
in a joyful frenzy, greeting loved ones,
friends, even in-laws -
but among them, you are absent

The platform empties, I'm left
standing, alone, pining memories that
no longer seem to belong to me

So I find a bench, set myself down,
the weight of my thoughts as anchor,

Realizing you left not by train, but on a ship that set sail, long ago...

Old Tag - 6 interests/habits I picked up from Ex-girlfriends

By now, most of you should be familiar with this game, but if you're not - I'm sure you will be at some point in your blogging life.

Rules are: List 6 weird things abour yourself, and then, TAG 6 other people to reveal 6 weird things about themselves.

However, since I've been around this block before, I'm doing mine on...

6 interests/habits I picked up from Ex-girlfriends

6. Gilmore Girls - I started watching it on the nudging of the most recent ex. I Netflixed the pilot episode... and I've been hooked since. However, learning to listen to rapid-firing gatling-gun a la' Spencer/Tracy style dialogue did take some getting used to. I'm proud to say that I have mastered the art of Gilmore-isms and Lorelai-diosyncracies.

5. Cooking - It was from an ex who complained that she did all the cooking which really drove me to, well, get my butt into the kitchen. This also began my small obsession with the Food Network, which kind of drove her nuts as well. Or was it my pasta primavera?

4. Learning to take better pictures - Although I went to school to learn how to shoot film, I was never really good behind the camera. Again, after much beratement from an ex that told me my pictures sucked, she helped shape my eye for angles, subjects, and lighting. I now take better group photos because of her.

3. To not answering a question with another question - This one was a hard habit to break, and I still do it from time to time, but at least I catch myself doing it nowadays. Yeah, a lot of nothing fights that start with "I ASKED YOU FIRST!" comes to mind.

2. Watching Independent films - All right, I should have been doing this already, but it was an ex who was a hard-core film buff that pushed me to appreciate smaller, intimate cinema. Of course, I didn't stay awake through all of them, but honestly, who does? But the ones I have seen, I love. Which reminds me - go and see "Little Miss Sunshine". It rules!

1. Always minding the toilet seat - Luckily, it only took me one ex to learn that
all- important lesson, which I'll probably carry with me for the rest of my life.

Usually, I don't tag, but I hope 6 of you that read this will want to be self-tagged, so, I tagged ya!

In any case, thanks for reading!... ;)

Oh, Canada! - The Vacation 2006, Part 2: My old neighborhood...

Gosh, am I ever gonna finish this series or what? Anyhow, if you're just joining in, I've been periodically posting stuff from my vacation in Canada, and I know, they are posted far and in between, but hey, who said I was on a deadline?

Without any further ado, I give you.... DAY 2!

Arghhh!!! Flash...Too early...

Ah, that's more like it!

As my father took off with his cronies, he left me to wander around my old
'hood. Suffice it to say, it's like I never left...

Here's one side of Yonge St. It was the closest major street
around my block.

Here's Yonge St. again. Suprisingly, not a lot of people ate at the McDonald's.
It was mostly a makeshift shelter for the wealthy homeless.

Tom Cruise likes to check-in here when he's in town.
Nah, I'm just kidding... The building usually flies to him!

Gee, I wonder what they serve here? It too, is usually empty, but I
guess they do all right. There's a female chef in there that cuts the lettuce
with a huge machete. Again, don't know why, but it looks cool.

Amazingly, these are the same exact books that were laid out for sale
5 years ago the last time I was here. Hmmm, French...

Here's where I used to live. Oh yeah, did I mention that I lived right
near Church and Charles, the gay mecca of Toronto? Imagine San Francisco's
Castro St. and Los Angeles' Santa Monica Blvd. combined, and you get
my neighborhood. They used to shoot the exterior scenes for "Queer as Folk"
about 5 blocks down from my apartment. Yeah, lots of boys with boys and
girls with girls, but hey, it was one of the safest places to live in the city.

Strangely enough, I had never actually seen anyone step out
of these apartments.
Ever.
It was like living on the Universal Studio's backlot.

This was a little park I'd pass by. It was mostly couples and
dog walkers during the day, and drug deals going down at night.
Yeah, multipurpose commons.

And finally, here's the little market where I used to buy my grocceries
and whatnots. The clerk that worked there was from India, and he spoke
with an accent so thick he could give Abu a run for his money in linguistic
comprehension. Although I couldn't for the life of me understand what
he'd say, I'd smile politely, and nod most profusely.
We had a great relationship
like that.


Thanks for coming along!

TO BE CONTINUED...

1,825 days ago... and counting

Twin Towers were felled,
Pentagon attacked while heroes
on flight fought back

Today, thoughts are shared,
words spoken in somber tones -
"We still remember"...

...And remember September,
We shall.


***My thoughts and prayers to those who lost friends and loved ones on this day of days***

Sepia-Sunbather - for Janelle

Mono-hued beauty
lays out on the deck chair,
awashes my eyes with
her argent skin

Cloudless sky above,
sun-shines down,
the rays can't out-sheen
her brilliance

Mr. DeMille, she's ready for
her close-up...

Placid...

As Sun sets low on placid waters,
my senses drift along the flows
with ripples 'gainst my skin and toes,
as held this hour, minutes, seconds
unpreturbed, and still, unstill

Soothed, I melt into this aqua's dream,
where anger has no place to hide
when all the Zen and Tao abide
by harmony in every drop -
never let this sereneness, stop...

...Placid, the water, is.

Random Haiku #60

Dead fly on table,
laying there upturned, peaceful -
fly takes flight no more...

Random Haiku #59

Caught not wearing pants,
neighbor got underwear show -
all I got was shame!


***Note to self: wear robe when fetching the morning paper***

Where I was a few days ago...

North Hollywood

Sequoia National Park... here are the trees!

The tree behind me feel down shortly after I took this, but luckily
I had gotten out of the way... Whew!

How often do you see two deer just chill'n?

I thought this poster has turned very "Donnie Darko"

There it is, the "General Sherman" - the largest wood in all the forest, hehe...

"The General", up close and personal

The tree to the left actually has 3 trees growing from one trunk. Don't believe me?
Go see for yourself!

In Sequoia, the baby bears drink for free!

The Next Day...

No, I don't want to get up...

... Okay, fine! As you can see, I look most "Asian" in the morn'!

View from my room's back window

Oh what a beautiful morning, ain't it? Morning, Giant Rock!

The Jeep Commander - I couldn't believe we kept it this clean!


San Francisco

Yes, the room had a bay view, you know, behind the lovely track of freeway

Enjoying tapas at a place called "Tapas"...

Okay, actually the place is called something else, but I thought it'd be funnier
to call it the latter!

Mi Primos, Derek and Jenny - they rule!

Here's Jenny back at her pad - she's holding up an old picture of me from High School,
while I'm taking a picture of her, capturing me... oh boy, my head is spinning

Jenny and her plants - she is really proud of them. She was blessed with a
gene for a green thumb, which is really rare in our family
i.e. I own plastic flowers myself

These were on display at an ice cream shop we went to. Can you see the
Ben Franklin Action Figure on the left? How rock'n is that?

Mi Primos en Trio! Me gusta mi familia!!!


The Next Day, Heading Home

I could have sworn the freeway moved 6 inches to the left since last night!

Ah, taking vanity photos in front of a Vanity mirror, how apropos...

So ladies, you could be lucky and wake up next to THIS! HA!

Thanks for coming along with me! Super Winks!... ;)