She Has Been With Me So Long That She Is Starting To Think Like Me

As Massiel was coming out of the shower I was admiring her body. She is kind of top heavy and I was reminded of the first time I saw her in the casino about 7 years ago. My comment to a friend was, "Wow, I just want to see them." When I reminded Massiel of this comment her answer to me was, "See them, you married them."

How To Seduce A Born Again (We Know Someone Like That)

You: Oh baby, I am so horny for you.

She: I am sorry but I am no longer like that. I have finally found myself and I want to remain a righteous woman.

You: But baby, I need you now. I really am so horny for you.

She: I am not like that anymore. I know that I was, but you have to, respect me now and accept me for the clean living woman that I am.

You: I do respect you. I just have this aching in my loins for you. I know how much your religion means to you now and the last thing I would want to do is to make you stray from the path that you are on. That is why I want you to stick your hand in my pants and meet "Baby Jesus".

She: Baby Jesus?

You: Yup. And not only that but I want you to witness the miracle of him going from baby to full grown man in only seconds.

She: A miracle in your pants? This I have to see.

And When The Cloud Lifted

Here I am in Punta Cana as the Poker Director for the nicest hotel in a city filled with beautiful hotels. I went through a stage where I was working in a call center. I hated it and wanted out, but I needed the money. Actually after a while it wasn't so bad. Ex prisoners can make very pleasant work companions. I got to like quite a few of them. I just never told them my real name or where I lived (for safety sake). A friend I had once helped to get a job, Orlando Torres started working here and when the general manager told him that he was looking for someone to take over the Poker Room, Orlando told him about me. I sent a resume and literally 15 minutes later I had an interview set up, and three days later at the end of the interview I got the job.
I am here now for 6 days and I am loving it. I work for people who want to do things as quickly and as well as is possible. Instead of the Dominican/Spanish mentality of "Manana", I am now dealing with an American sensibility. What a huge difference.

And of course when things are looking good, good things happen. Take today for instance. I had to deposit money into Massiel's account. First I went to Banco Santa Cruz to change my dollars to pesos. I spoke to a customer service rep who gave me a better rate exchange than was posted. Then I found a Banco Popular nearby. It was so crowded that when I walked in I asked one of the 50 or so people on the line waiting for a teller if they were giving money away today. I couldn't see myself waiting on a line like that so I left. I asked the security guard outside if there was another branch nearby and he directed me to one that was less than 5 minutes away and absolutely deserted. I walked right up to the teller and made my deposit. I was passing by the original branch that I went to in less than 8 minutes. Then I stopped at the "biggest supermarket in town" to buy some razors. I was in there the other night and in typical Dominican fashion the cashier had no change and she beat me for a peso, and she didn't even offer me a piece of gum to make up the shortage. This time I checked the price before I bought it, just to make sure that I had the exact change. I did. When I paid her I said, " You know, last time I was here you beat me for a peso". She gave me a peso. Boy was I happy.

Little things, but sometimes, as the song says, "little things mean a lot".

It May Not Seem Like Much To You (But After A While It Just Wears You Down)

I don't sleep well at night. To make it worse, most mornings I wake up early to take Massiel to work. I don't want to, but since I have to leave before she is done with work I can no longer let her take the car and that means she would have to take a concho, and that is a seriously horrible way to start your day. It's bad enough that she has to take one home. OK. No big deal. I get up. So then, after I get home from driving her and just as I am getting ready to fall asleep she calls and asks me to take something over to her grandmother's house. Her grandmother needed something in our refrigerator in order to make lunch, and how can I say no.
There is a bakery, Lumejor, that makes the best baked goods in the city. My favorite thing that they make is Pan Pizza. It is really fabulous. The problem is that they never have it. I stopped yesterday morning on my way to the airport and they had a whole pie in the display case. Foolishly I only bought one slice. Sometimes it is very good and other times it is absolutely fabulous. This time it was so good that I was immediately sorry that I had only bought one piece. When I passed by the bakery later, about 2:30 there was nothing left. After I dropped the food off, I stopped at the bakery to buy more. Again they didn't have any. That means for probably 20 hours they didn't have a product that they ALWAYS sell out of right away. I have spoken to the owner several times and asked why if they always sell out of this immediately, why don't they make more. He told me it was a good idea. Naturally nothing was done to change the policy. I was forced to go to another nearby bakery which is no where as good as Lumejor, but they make a chicken roll that is quite good (the Lumejor chicken roll is too greasy). I was waiting in line and some guy parked his motor bike right in front of the door, blocking it, came inside and proceeded to walk in front of myself and the other people waiting patiently for their turn. This happens all the time so I gave him my usual, "What am I, invisible?" greeting. Dominicans have this thing that they do when they either don't hear clearly or don't understand what you said. They twitch and wrinkle their noses like chipmonks. This is like asking "What?" only in a primitive sort of sign language. After he did that I made it clear that I and the others were waiting there before he came in and that he should wait his turn. He went to the back of the line. You see shit like that all the time. Someone encounters a line and they think nothing of just walking to the front of it. That is why I have my "invisible" question always at the ready. When my turn came I asked for the chicken roll to go. The girl tooke the roll, put it on a plate, and handed it to me. I said, "No, to go, with plastic wrap" and she was like, "what a great idea" and then she wrapped it and I left. Then when I got home and I called Massiel to told her that I had dropped off the package at her grandmother's the girl that answered the phone told me that she was in the kitchen, could I call back. Usually if Massiel is in the kitchen I can call her and she will answer her cell phone. She didn't answer so I texted her and again she didn't answer so I called back again and the same idiot answered the phone and told me that she was in the kitchen. I asked her to connect me to the kitchen and she asked me if I wanted to leave a message. I told her that I wanted her to put me through to the kitchen, something that has been done a thousand times and this time she did. It seemed as if it was too much for her to connect me the first 3 times I asked.

Doesn't seem like much does it? It isn't, but after a while it just wears you down.

Not The Brightest Bulb

So we are trying to get Massiel her residency. We needed an address to which we could mail her green card, if and when she gets it. Since we would probably go to visit my friend Jon in Alabama as our first trip to the US we decided to mail it there. I called him today and got his address. I called Massiel to give it to her.To protect Jon's privacy I have changed the address. I said to her, "Here is Jon's address":

Dr. Jonathan Friedman, 5643 Grand Forks Avenue, Mobile, Alabama, 33454

I had her read it back to me and she repeated everything back to me perfectly.

She called me back 5 minutes later and asked, "But, what is his name?"



Now here is the best part. I showed this to Massiel and he r response was,"Oh fuck. I spelled his name wrong".

New Work Rules

When you enter the bathroom, if you must, be careful. Only pee. Don't even think about taking a dump. That is out of the question. If you must pee,only pee in a toilet that is open. Never, ever, ever open a toilet seat. Pee in your pants before you open up a toilet cover. You never want to see what's in there.

I Don't Know

I really don't.

Sports Update

Today's Standings in the Dominican Winter League


Team W-L Avg. Diff.
AZUCAREROS 14 - 10 .714 --

ESTRELLAS 14 - 10 .714 --

ESCOGIDO 14 - 8 .571 2.0

LICEY 15 - 6 .400 4.5

AGUILAS 15 - 5 .333 5.5

GIGANTES 14 - 4 .286 6.0


They can play baseball, but they sure can't do the math.

The REAL Quote Of The Trip From Jon

"I have become everything that I always said that I wanted people to shoot me if I became."

Trip Report

On the 14th of this month I left Santiago to visit with a childhood friend. Jon and I have been friends for about 55 years. We met briefly in Hebrew school. In the 9th grade (1959-1960)I transferred to Horace Mann, a private school in NYC, and Jon and I have been good friends ever since.

My flight left Santiago at 8:30 for Miami. We got in at 10:30 and then I had a NINE HOUR layover until my next flight. The walk from where my plane landed to the customs station felt like it took 30 minutes, but definitely took at least 10, although I am sure it was more. And don't forget, I walk at the pace of a New Yorker (quickly).

My first observation was of the price of chewing gum at the airport. I don't know if it was some sort of special product but it was $2.19. That is an amazing price.

I was surprised that some people with a lot of luggage were using the old "wheelchair" trick to allow them to go to the head of the line at customs if they had a lot of luggage. That is a refinement of the "I need a wheelchair to get on the plane trick" which is used just to get to be allowed to enter the plane before everyone else.

With all that time to kill I decided not to go to a nearby casino to lose what little money I had, but rather to head out to a nearby discount mall in order to spend it on things that I can't get here, like candy and nice clothing cheaply priced. When I asked at the information booth I was told that the mall was 5 minutes from the airport. Coming back to the airport the trip took about 8 minutes, maybe a little less. What the woman at the information booth neglected to tell me is that the shuttle bus stops at every hotel on the way to the mall and that getting there takes almost 40 minutes.
After walking through about 1/3 of the mall and making a few purchases I came to the food court. I was hungry, so the timing was great. In looking around my first thought was that I was going to have a tough time deciding where to eat. That is until I saw that there was a girl handing out samples of the Teryaki chicken at the first stand. As I was sampling this I realized that there was someone at virtually every stand, either in front of or behind the counter, trying to entice you to eat there by giving you a free sample. It didn't take long to decide where I was going to eat. I ate every free sample that was given and finished the food court absolutely full. The should change the name to "The Free Food Court".

After about an hour and a half of walking around shopping I was starting to get a little tired. As luck would have it I came across some massage chairs. I think it was $2 for 5 minutes. I figured I would try it. Wow. What a great massage. Hard to believe that a machine could give that satisfying a massage, but these chairs were great.

One of the things that really struck me after a while is that NOBODY in the mall spoke English. Everyone spoke Spanish. I was amazed.

For those of you who watch "The Jersey Shore" 1/2 the young girls in the mall made every effort to look like Snooki.

I asked a man a question and he answered in a very not Spanish accent, "Excuse, please, I don't talk English". Doesn't anybody in Miami speak English?

When I got back to the airport, as soon as I started to look for my next flight, I realized I was fucked. When the overhead sign says "Gates 1-60 and you are leaving from 60, you know you are screwed. After walking part of the way I decided to take the Sky Train, a monorail that goes to all of the American's gates. The best part is that when I finally got near to gate 60 I realized that it was down a flight of stairs at the end of the row of gates and when they call your plane you go out through a door and they PUT YOU ON A BUS to the plane. Of course, the first plane we got on was having problems, so we had to change to another plane, again getting there by bus.

Having lived in the DR for 11 years one of the things that really struck me was the condition of every public bathroom I entered (and with my prostate problem, trust me, I entered a lot). They were all spotless. Every stall had a seat (amazing), every sink had soap and paper towels and/or really efficient hand blowers, and they all had baby changing tables. One bathroom "complex" had a Men's room, a Women's bathroom and a Family Bathroom. What the hell is a Family bathroom?

I had a wonderful time with Jon and his wife Betty. They were as hospitable as possible. Jon and I spent most of the time just talking. Amazingly with all the history we had there were no, "do you remember when.....? stories, or "how about the time.... anecdotes. Mostly current events both personal and worldwide. There was nothing unusual in that, Jon and I have always had an up to date conversation pattern. We spent quite a most of our time at his beautiful beach house, near Pensacola. Jon is in love with his really fast, really beautiful speedboat and we went riding a couple of times, including one trip to a seafood store that was a pretty long ride by boat. This store had the largest selection of fish and shellfish that I have ever seen. There was a huge assortment of prepared foods as well, and we ate what we bought there for a couple of days. Friday I went to the Walmart store and Ihad a ball. I love Walmart. I miss Walmart. On Sunday we drove to his house in Mobile, and along the way we stopped at another discount mall. I love discount malls. I miss discount malls. We spent the rest of the day watching football. I had a wonderful time. My favorite quote from Jon came when we were talking about something involving California and Jon referred to the people living there as "Those yogurt eating cocksuckers". Pure Jon.

The trip back included a layover of only 3 hours. Piece of cake. The airport at Pensacola was filled with a bunch of religious nuts. I overheard this conversation more than once: "How are you? Fine, how are you? I am blessed.

The stewardess dropped the bag of ice on the floor and all drinks were served at room temperature. It didn't matter to me because when I am traveling, I try to drink as little as possible, but some people were really pissed.

When we got off in Miami I had time to kill so I decided to walk from my arrival gate (#59) to my departure gate (#7). I took a leisurely stroll and once I was smart enough to pay for a cart to carry the 30 pound bag I was carrying it was a pleasure. It took 50 minutes.

My last impression of the US was provided by a young couple with a child waiting for their flight with a stroller. On both sides of the stroller they had afixed Latte holders.

I had a great time.

That's A Problem

I never heard of the host of tonight's Saturday Night Live. His name was either John Ham or John Hand. Doesn't really matter. I am sure he is someone famous and I have absolutely no idea who he is.

Oh yeah. I drank tonight for the first time in maybe 5 months. I really don't know why I did. I had enough to get really drunk, and maybe I am, but where is the good feeling?

No Trip Report.........Yet

I promise I will write a report about my great trip to visit my oldest friend, Jon, in the not too distant future.

For now, however you will have to be satisfied with this. I am working in a "BoilerRoom" booking trips to a hotel in Canada. Most of my fellow workers were deported for various criminal activities. I looked over tonight to see one of my neighbors looking at a web site for something called "Crime Spree". I asked if that was a video game. He told me that it was like Farmville on Facebook. Then he told me that he was not very good at Farmville because he kept forgetting to water and harvest his crops. And then he added, "But I was very good at crime".

Massiel On Hunger

"Don't talk to me about anything, don't tell me anything,I just want to see my food."

I Have Written A Letter Like This Several Times (But In A Phone Call)

Sorry I haven’t posted lately, but I am too busy being ground down by life.

VANCOUVER — Today Hunter S. Thompson is remembered as a literary icon, whose classic works and impetuous personality firmly stamped his place into the hearts, minds and graphic T-shirts of a malleable generation.
With his seminal classics — Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail '72 and Hells Angels — he spawned "Gonzo journalism," a subjective style of journalism that incorporates the author into the story.
His fiery prose was fuelled as much by wit and vibrant description as it was by mescaline and Wild Turkey.
But in 1958, Thompson was still a struggling journalist, living in a tiny basement apartment in New York's Greenwich Village, burdened by crippling debt.
On Oct. 1, 1958 — 52 years ago Friday — self-professed to be in a "frenzy of drink," Thompson penned a letter of application to the Vancouver Sun. He had heard about the paper through an article in Time magazine — where he worked briefly as a copy boy for $50 U.S. a week — that praised the paper's new editorial direction under Jack Scott.
Scott, whom Thompson had addressed his letter to, was a Sun columnist who was appointed editorial director in September 1958.
According to Time, the "tart-tongued" Scott "unleashed all of his formidable flair for spectacular stunts" in his new role, which included sending the football editor to Formosa (now Taiwan) to interview Chiang Kai-shek, the leader of the Republic of China, and the women's page editor to Cuba to cover the aftermath of the revolution.
He was promptly demoted in March 1959, summing up his brief stint with, "It was a ball while it lasted," according to Time.


Vancouver Sun

TO JACK SCOTT, VANCOUVER SUN

October 1, 1958 57 Perry Street New York City

Sir,

I got a hell of a kick reading the piece Time magazine did this week on The Sun. In addition to wishing you the best of luck, I'd also like to offer my services.

Since I haven't seen a copy of the "new" Sun yet, I'll have to make this a tentative offer. I stepped into a dung-hole the last time I took a job with a paper I didn't know anything about (see enclosed clippings) and I'm not quite ready to go charging up another blind alley.

By the time you get this letter, I'll have gotten hold of some of the recent issues of The Sun. Unless it looks totally worthless, I'll let my offer stand. And don't think that my arrogance is unintentional: it's just that I'd rather offend you now than after I started working for you.

I didn't make myself clear to the last man I worked for until after I took the job. It was as if the Marquis de Sade had suddenly found himself working for Billy Graham. The man despised me, of course, and I had nothing but contempt for him and everything he stood for. If you asked him, he'd tell you that I'm "not very likable, (that I) hate people, (that I) just want to be left alone, and (that I) feel too superior to mingle with the average person." (That's a direct quote from a memo he sent to the publisher.)

Nothing beats having good references.

Of course if you asked some of the other people I've worked for, you'd get a different set of answers.

If you're interested enough to answer this letter, I'll be glad to furnish you with a list of references — including the lad I work for now.

The enclosed clippings should give you a rough idea of who I am. It's a year old, however, and I've changed a bit since it was written. I've taken some writing courses from Columbia in my spare time, learned a hell of a lot about the newspaper business, and developed a healthy contempt for journalism as a profession.

As far as I'm concerned, it's a damned shame that a field as potentially dynamic and vital as journalism should be overrun with dullards, bums, and hacks, hag-ridden with myopia, apathy, and complacence, and generally stuck in a bog of stagnant mediocrity. If this is what you're trying to get The Sun away from, then I think I'd like to work for you.

Most of my experience has been in sports writing, but I can write everything from warmongering propaganda to learned book reviews.

I can work 25 hours a day if necessary, live on any reasonable salary, and don't give a black damn for job security, office politics, or adverse public relations.

I would rather be on the dole than work for a paper I was ashamed of.

It's a long way from here to British Columbia, but I think I'd enjoy the trip.

If you think you can use me, drop me a line.

If not, good luck anyway.

Sincerely, Hunter S. Thompson

Who Is Happier Than Her

Massiel went shopping today and bought some stuff for our bathroom. Our shower curtain liner had a hole in it and the other bathroom needed a new curtain, so she bought stuff for our bathroom and put the old stuff in the other bathroom. Here is the new rug and the new curtain (please note the holders, she is especially proud of them)and the new rug, and Massiel sitting in the bathroom admiring her good taste. She also said no one is allowed to crap or fart in our bathroom anymore.

My Trip To Santo Domingo

The reason that this picture of this food is so blurred is that it was spinning at about 60 Miles Per Hour.
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What is a 7 foot rooster doing in front of a milk company?

They might be saving water, but the stench is not worth it.

A Joke

A rabbi was opening his mail one morning. Taking a single sheet of paper from an envelope he found written on it only one word: "shmuck." At the next Friday night service, the Rabbi announced, "I have known many people who have written letters and forgot to sign their names, but this week I received a letter from someone who signed his name...and forgot to write a letter.

Maybe True, Maybe Not, Doesn't Matter

In addition to the many official papers (birth certificate, marriage certificate, etc.) that I was told to bring with me to the US Embassy to try to get Massiel her visa, I was told that I had to bring proof of our personal relationship. Since all our accounts (electric, apartment lease, water, etc.) are in Massiel's name because they were all set up prior to my getting my Cedula. I asked if our wedding pictures would be appropriate, and I was told that something showing our relationship would be more appropriate. I asked if pictures of my getting a blow job would be proof of our "relationship".


A Dominican newspaper took a poll of its readers. The question was:

If the only thing that Dominicans want to read is the Sports Section, why does the newspaper have news of the country and the world?

87% answered, "They do?"

The Most Important (And Most Observered) Law In The D.R.

The Law Of Minimum Effort

Where It All Began

6 years ago today. Happy Anniversary Baby.

Another Reason Why I Hardly Ever Watch Sports

Dolphins Scour Field For $50,000 Earring


Ten players were on their hands and knees, poring through the grass for a 2.5 carat diamond earring that belongs to DE Kendall Langford. That'll lower his bling rating in the next Madden update.

Things (And People) I Don't Like (A Lot)

Dick Armey
David Gregory as host of Meet The Press
Christane Amanpour as host of This Week
The new Sports reporter on Channel 4,who I refuse to watch. I don't even know his name. When he comes on I switch to Channel 7 News
The conservative right
Newt Gingrich
The emphasis on celebrities who are famous only for being famous
The Kardashians
The success of Jersey Shore and the emptyheaded louts that star in the show
The inability of Dominicans to confront the truth
Team Coco
Jimmy Fallon
The fact that Charmin Basic Toilet Paper is now made of much thinner paper
Ali Velshi

Anonymity Vs. Face To Face

An observation:

Dominicans are as rude as they can be when they think that they are anonymous. You see it every day in how they drive.
And yet, in face to face situations they always pretend to be well mannered. I first noticed this at the Poker table.
The biggest theiving scumbag comes to the table and what does he do first? Why, of course, he walks around the table,warmly greeting each player with a
hello followed by a "sincere" handshake. This same guy will later try to steal chips from
his neighbor's stack if possible. I was reminded of this disparity today. Massiel asked me to go with her for an appointment with her doctor. His office was in the hospital on the fifth floor, which means that you have to take the elevator.
As people got on what quickly became a crowded elevator they tried to personally greet each occupant. All that was missing was the handshake.

Sorry

Sorry I don't know how to edit out the stuff on the right hand side. An album called "Let Me Touch Him" featuring 4 ministers somehow seems inappropriate to me.

I Am A Very Lucky Man

I found Massiel.


(That is not the original post, but this blog is subject to censorship and it got censored.)

On A Serious Note

I really agree with the ideas expressed here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/opinion/22rich.html?_r=1&emc=eta1

Bull Leaps Into Bullring Stands In Spain, 40 Hurt

Good.

Too bad it was only the people in the stands. Had he gotten a couple of the matadors that would have been even better.

Thanks For The Memories, Boys

These are my two cats Harry (top) and QD. Tonight they did something that brought back memories from the early 1970s. I worked, at the time, with a guy by the name of Ron Scala. Ron had a girlfriend named Jay. Ron used to do a lot of cocaine and he never used to like to share it with anyone, no less his girlfriend. It's the kind of a drug that when you have it, you don't really want to share. Jay was always checking Ron's clothing to see if he had any with him, but after a while he got too smart for that and he always made sure that if he had any, that it was hidden. She knew he was getting high, but she couldn't prove it. Until, that is, she developed the fool proof test. Jay discovered that if she stuck her finger in Ron's nose and then tasted her finger that she would be able to tell, by the little freeze her tongue would get that he had done some coke.

QD sometimes bullies Harry, especially when it comes to food. Tonight I wanted to give Harry a special treat, without giving any to QD. I wanted him to feel special. When QD was in the bedroom I closed the door and went to the kitchen to get the special cat treats that I keep in the house. Harry was scared to eat them because right away QD started to make noise. QD could tell from the sound of the package, through the door, what I was doing. It took a lot of coaxing to get Harry to eat them and even then after he took a piece I had to coax him to take another. Finally we finished and I opened the bedroom door. A la Jay, QD went up to Harry and licked his mouth, checking for the telltale scent or taste of food.

You Got A Problem With The Repairs We Made To Your Car?

I think our name about tells the whole story





Fuck You, OKAY?

It Depends On How You Look At It

If you see the yellow as the background you can easily see the Batman Logo. However, when I first saw this logo on a T-Shirt I didn't see it that way. I was in California when I first saw this T-shirt. I was in a very hip boutique shopping for styles to knowk off. I can't remember the name of the store but it was very fashion forward. They had this T-shirt on sale long before the Batman movie was due for release. I loved the shirt. Since I was looking at it and seeing the black as the background to me it looked like a big open mouth with teeth on the top and the bottom. I wore it home and told Bonnie that I bought it because it reminded me of her and she said, "I remind you of Batman?"

Until she said it, I never knew.

Improperly Named TV Program

I am currently playing in two online Poker tournaments. Playing well in tournaments is kind of boring. Massiel is watching TV and I am dividing my time between the TV and the computer. The program Massiel is watching is obviously modeled after the US program "America's Got Talent" which was copied in London as "England's Got Talent" and I would imagine by countless other countries. There are people dancing in groups. They are awful, in almost every performance someone is out of step with the others.The three judges are normally very laudatory of the performances. Once in a while one of them doesn't have anything nice to say so she doesn't say anything. There is one judge who never saw a bad dance group, and probably wouldn't recognize talent if she saw it. She gives high scores, 8s, 9s, and the occasional 10. The name of the show is Aqui Se Habla Espanol.

I would have called it "Dominicans Have No Talent".

Check This Out, Carefully

I should start by saying that I can't stand Joan Rivers. A long time ago she was funny, but I don't appreciate her sense of self importance, and once you don't like someone it is difficult to find them funny. She normally looks as though her surgically constructed face is melting. In going to check out David Lettermans monologue I came across this picture and was struck by its resemblance to the Joker as played by Jack Nicholson in the first Batman movie. To really appreciate the likeness click on the photo twice, to make it as large as possible. It's the exact same mouth they gave the Joker, just made up a little differently.

My Favorite Spot

Hispaniola is a beautiful island. There are gorgeous views all over the island. My personal favorite, so far, is a hill that is located on the road to Puerto Plata. Massiel and I went to Maimon for seafood last week and we passed the hill. This time I stopped and took pictures.

I Can't Believe That I Eat Here, But I Do And It's Great

Parada Johan in Maimon

Today I Needed Some Space

I qualified for two large Poker tournaments on Party Poker. Both were FreeRoll tournaments and both had pretty substantial first place prizes. One paid $8000 for first place with only 480 entries and the other paid almost $4000 for first place, but it had 6500.
I told Massiel that since one started at 1:30 and the other at 2:00, I would probably be busy most of the day and I suggested that she plan to do something outside, so that she wouldn't be bored watching me play all afternoon. I lasted until 2:10 (in the 2:00 tourney) and until 2:15 in the earlier one.
It's 5:20. She is still out and I am posting on my blog.

The Thinker

A couple of years ago there was a Poker player who was a regular at the Almirante Poker game. Everybody called him Pensador(Thinker). I never think of Dominicans as appreciating the art of sarcasm, so I never really understood how he got the name. The guy was as dumb as a wall, and a horrible Poker player, to boot. He was awful, clueless, and very vain. When he would win, he would put this look on his face like he was better than everyone else. I guess it was a look of pride. He would win a lot of hands every night but, as with most players who play too many hands, he generally lost money every time he played. I guess what was important to him was that he got to make his "I'm Superior to you" face.
The other night I was playing at the Almirante and I happened to think of him and wondered why I hadn't seen him. When I was told the answer, I replied, "Don't kid me, where is he". The person I asked swore that what he had told me was the truth. The answer I was given was that he had been arrested for stealing cows, and was currently in jail.

Perfect

Our Neighbors, A Truly Special Class Of People

Listen to this and you will understand:



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTGc_oLgwGY

Why I Slept Like Shit Last Night

I have some nasal problems that sometimes inhibit my ability to sleep through the night. Add to that the following and you'll understand why I am a little tired today:

I wasn't really tired but knew that I had to get up early to drive Massiel to work this morning, so at about 12:00 A.M. I tried to go to sleep. I have this breathing "trick" that I use that puts me to sleep no matter how tired I am.

1:30 First time I woke up. I was sleeping on the "wrong" side and consequently was breathing through my mouth, which got very dry. Got up and had some chocolate ice cream to refresh my mouth. Back to sleep.

2:30 "Wrong side again". Ate a brownie, while watching Poker After Dark and then fell asleep again.

3:45 Received a phone call. I had no idea what the language the caller was speaking, but it was the wrong number, regardless. Didn't eat.

In addition I had some weird dreams not necessarily in this order:

I dreamt that I was in Manhattan, trying to park my car, saw that I had passed a couple of spaces, as apparently had the guy behind me. As we both were going backwards really fast, he stopped quickly, and I smashed into him and then he ran away from the stolen car he was driving.
I dreamt that I was in my apartment, again in the city and I heard a loud noise and looked out my window. There was a helicopter landing on an aircraft carrier that was parked outside my window.
I was in a foreign country with a friend. We knew that when it was time to leave that we would have to take several flights to get home. After the first flight, while we were waiting for our first connection we found out that the flight had been cancelled with no replacement flight listed. Then another friend came to tell us where we had to go to find out about making a connection, but my friend convinced me not to go. We sat there and smoked cigarettes. I am 2 years, 4 months, and 22 days without smoking (but who's counting) but I still dream about it. I don't remember any more about this dream.

As you can see, I was too busy to sleep well last night.

Conversations With My Beloved Part 3

MB: (on telephone) OK. I am ready to leave. Can you come pick me up at Carolina's house.

Me: Sure. Where does she live.

MB: I don't know.

My Alter Ego

Not My Idea, But It Sure Gets My Vote, Part 1

My Hypothesis:

Some is capturing douchebags....tagging them.....

Part 2

...And releasing them back into the wild.

The Names Have Been Changed To Protect The Innocent

No they haven't. I have just forgotten them.

The other title I thought of for this post was "Early Sex Stories"

There was a girl who worked as a waitress at a bar that I hung out at when I first moved to Manhattan. The bar was called Mike Malkan's. It had a very preppy crowd. I can see her in front of me, but I can't remember her name. I was probably about 22. One night I asked her out. Out in those meant going somewhere to fuck. I had the perfect place. My father's business, which I was running since he had gotten sick had a great office with a really large, comfortable, green leather couch. We got started and before I knew it we were ready for the main course. I, of course, was not a great lover at that point. I got in her and realized that I was ready to come. I said, "Don't move" to her, but it was already to late. So, naturally, I looked at her and said, "You moved". That became her standard greeting for me whenever she saw me after that.


Stephanie lived with her parents in an apartment in the Apthorp building on Broadway and 79th St. The Apthorp is one of the most magnificent apartment buildings in the city. Nora Ephron wrote a short essay about living there and how grand it was. Stephanie's parent's apartment was enormous. If I remember correctly it was about 4 bedrooms with a formal living room, separate dining room and the biggest kitchen I have ever seen. Anywhere. Her room was right across the hall from her parent's room in the back of the apartment so if we wanted to fool around we used her brother's room which was all the way in the front. That way no one could hear us. One day we were fooling around and I had my penis out, while still having my pants on. All of a sudden she said, "Oh no, my brother is home." So I quickly closed my zipper only there was something stuck in it. I ran into the bathroom, quietly screaming in pain still stuck in the zipper. I waited a minute or two, in amazing pain, waiting to figure out what to do. Stephie came in and said that she had been mistaken, her brother had not come home. At this point I didn't care. I was stuck in my zipper. I will spare you the details but I just want to point out that the worst part was not being stuck. The worst part was knowing that I was going to have to unzip my zipper to get myself out.

Andy Grossman lived in the Fleetwood Section of Mount Vernon, where I was brought up. One day, in our Junior year he came to school all smiles. He had gotten laid by his house cleaner. The next day invited a bunch of us over to share. We did.

I will never forget this name, The Scott. It was an apartment building on 103rd Street in Manhattan where there were hookers. I think I went there with some high school fraternity brothers in my Junior year of high school.

Not The Lab For Me

I had to return to the lab that always has the closed sign on the door. This time I went with Massiel. I felt as though I was cool because I ignored the sign and just walked in. In the actual lab area the furnishing are kind of spare, just a few seats, a couple of desks with Petrie dishes on them and loads and loads of pizza boxes. I am sure they serve some sort of purpose, but I have no clue what that might be.

There Really Should Be A Law That Relates Height To Width

Women Have Been Seen Fighting In Supermarkets To Buy The Right Shape

There Are Balls Here, Wherever You Choose To Look

The Best Day Of My Life

I'm watching "City Slickers", a movie about dealing with aging, although in this case the age being reached is 40 (not 65 with which I have to deal). This was Billy Crystal's funniest movie. There is a scene where Crystal and his two friends are riding along and one of them asks the other two to tell him what was the best day of their lives, not counting the day their children were born. I got to thinking about how I would answer the question.

In 1990 I left a pretty good job to take a chance of opening my own garment manufacturing business. I had no where near enough money to do it on my own, but I knew that I did generate enough sales to support a business. I found someone, Mitchell Dobies, with an existing company who was willing to be my partner and to supply me with the necessary support to operate. When I told my daughter that I was leaving the company that I had been working for she was very unhappy, until, that is, I told her that I was planning on naming the company after her. Then it was OK. Her name is Michele, with one L and I called the company Wonell. My deal with Mitchell entitled me to 50% of the profits. The only downside was that he was only willing to invest $50,000. He said that once he reached that point, he would go no further. Right after we started two of the buyers with whom I had done a lot of business were transferred. They had committed to giving me a substantial amount of business, but once they were transferred, all promises were void. Four or five months later I had gone through the $50,000, and Mitchell came to me and said that I could continue to use his office space and my desk, while I looked for a job somewhere else, but that he was no longer going to pay me. I decided that since I had just shipped some test orders and was expecting them to do well, that I would wait it out. About 3 weeks later I got the greatest call of my life. I had shipped 400 dozen of a pull on pant to WalMart. The call was from the buyer and the question she asked literally turned my life around. The question was, "How many pants can you get me and how quickly can you get them to me. I don't remember the exact number, but I probably told her That within 3-4 weeks I could get her somewhere around 240,000 pieces. She took the 240,000 and gave me a future order for 500,000 more for about 6 weeks later. That same afternoon, the large size buyer, having heard from her Missy counterpart how good my pants were selling, called and ordered 300,000 pieces more, in large sizes. That came to about $4,000,000 in orders, which ultimately led to a $20,000,000 a year business with Walmart.

That Friday I did get paid.

Distraction

I discovered a game show called Distraction on TV a couple of weeks ago. I watched the whole show tonight. It is amazing. There are four contestants at the start. They play a series of elimination games until there is only one left. The person who answers the fewest questions in each round is eliminated. Tonight the games were as follows:
Game #1 Each contestant has a table and on the table are a bunch of live mouse traps. A question is asked and in order to signal that you know the answer, you have to raise your hand. First hand up gets to try to answer the question. However, you must have a mouse trap on your hand to raise it and you have to let a trap snap shut on your hand to make that happen.
Game #2 Each contestant, one at a time has to put their heads inside of a fish tank. They do this by putting their heads through the hole that has been cut in the bottom of the tank. Their are no fish or water in the tank. Instead, there are live pigeons walking around. The contestants head is what the birds are walking and shitting on. While this is going on, the questions are asked.
Game #3 Now they are down to the two remaining contestants. They are dressed in goalie's uniforms and have to signal in when they know the answer to the question. As they are called upon, two professional hockey players shoot pucks at their bodies as hard as they can.
The winner of this constest gets to play the final. Five prizes are shown. In this case they were a very expensive computer, a plasma TV, a Vespa motor scooter, a DVD player and a years supply of Rice A Roni. For every answer that the finalist gets wrong he has to push down one of five plungers which are connected to a prize, which then blows up.
What a great show. What kind of demented mind thought of this?

Conversations With My Beloved Part 2

MB: What time are you coming home?

ME: I really have no way of knowing what time I will be done, you know that.

MB: I wasn't asking you what time you would be home, I just wanted to know about what time you would be home.


http://i48.tinypic.com/jh6048.gif"

Photo Dump

I am not exactly what you would call computer literate, but I am sure that, strange as it sounds, something on my computer changed. I could not upload pictures to my blog. I went to an internet cafe today and I had the same problem using their computer. The guy working there showed me how to get around the problem. Below are some of the many photos that I wanted to post previously.

Smiley Dog

Now That Is A Plate Of Food

Under The Spreading Chestnut Tree The Village Smithee Stands

When I went to get my Cedula in Santo Domingo, I needed to get some photocopies made and I was directed to the street around the corner to this outdoor copy shop. What do they do when it rains?

The Famous Hotel MIRASH

Portable Laundry

I Imagine This Product Used To Be Called AIDS

The New Scam

I have said that there is nothing a Dominican would rather tell you than "No" or, "I don't know", so that they can avoid helping someone, but they have now taken this to a new level. I went to the hospital to drop something off at the lab and there was a sign on the door that said CLOSED. Of course, it was only closed if you didn't know that it was open.

The Road To The Free Zone

Antoine

Only Thing Missing Is A "No Hitchhiker" Sign

More Is Better?

Why just paint a couple of small lines when you can use so much more paint this way.





What is a Filament Stick?

Thanks Ringo

I think I have mentioned it before, but in case I haven't, whenever I see someone from back from my youth I usually find it upsetting. My normal response is, "My G-D, how old I have gotten." Someone sent me a DVD of a Rolling Stone's concert at the Beacon Theater in New York. I got one look at Mick and that thought raced through my mind. It is not, by the way, a thought that is accompanied by good feelings. I never really feel old, unless I am looking at myself in the mirror, which I try to avoid, or when I am looking at someone my age. My G-D look how old I have gotten. It never fails. When not faced with empiric evidence of my age, looking out from inside my head, I still feel like a young man. Well today something happened involving pictures of a contemporary and I feel really good. Today is Ringo Starr's birthday. He is 70. Wow. 70. But he looks great and as I watched the story on the news I could only think about how young I still am. Thanks Ringo.

Who Is Happier Than Me?

After a year Verizon allows you to exchange your old phone for a new one at no cost. I wanted to get an IPhone, but somehow at this point in time a new free BlackBerry seemed to make more sense. I don't really love the new phone, but it does have some features that I didn't have before. I can download all sorts of apps for free. Unfortunately the good ones cost money and they are not available in the DR. I have checked out most of the free ones, but there is a good reason they are free. They suck. HOWEVER, I discovered one last night and I can't stop playing with it. It's called the Fart Board. Once you download it, it plays about 25 different farting sounds, each of which has its own name. It goes from "AfterBurner, to Low Winder, all the way to WindyGas." Each is very distinct in sound; different textures, depth, and length of sound. Today I discovered the best feature of all. Each sound has its own timer so that you can set it, move it to where you want someone else to hear it. And not just 10 seconds either. You can set it for as many seconds as you want. I can't stop playing with it.

Conversations With My Beloved

#1

I am very sick. I am lying in bed moaning. Of course I always do that when I am any kind of sick. I am having trouble breathing and realize that even though Afrin has a negative side effect on my prostate, sometimes I really have to use it so that I can breath through my nose. When my nose gets very clogged and shuts down I can't sleep so I have to use it. Anyway, I am lying on the bed and I start looking for the Afrin and I go through the entire apartment, every closet and drawer, and can't find it, moaning and groaning the whole time, just to make sure Massiel knows how sick I am. I know that it is not yet 9:00 and the pharmacy across the street is probably still open. So I ask Massiel, "Do me a favor and look out the window and see if the lights are still on and the pharmacy is still open." She looks out our bedroom window (from which I know that you cannot see the pharmacy) and says,"There are no lights on, it must be closed." I drag myself to the balcony, from which you can see the pharmacy and of course the lights are on. I tell her that it is open, giving her the momentary opening to offer to go which of course she doesn't do. I drag my ass down, in my near death condition (I never just get very sick) and buy the Afrin by myself.

#2

It's 7:00 P.M. I am watching TV and Massiel is busy with the new love of her life, Facebook. She says my name. I ask what she wants and she doesn't answer. I ask her again. Again, no response. I ask one more time and when she again ignores me I say, "Do me a favor and don't say my name anymore." I know that this is a ploy she uses when she wants something. If she makes me ask a lot of times what it is that she wants, I think she feels less guilty in asking for it, as though I made her tell me.
She tells me that she needs nail polish remover from the pharmacy. I look out the same window she did and tell her that I can't see the lights so it must be closed and she tells me that it must be open because it closes at 9:00. I remind her of the events of a few nights ago when I needed the Afrin. I go down to buy her the nail polish remover.

#3

I am back from the pharmacy, and I figure what is good for the goose is good for the gander, so I say her name. She asks what I want and of course, I don't answer. She again asks what I want and again I don't answer. When she asks the third time, she is laughing because she realizes that I am doing to her what she always does to me. Finally, reluctantly, I tell her that by the time I got home today our housekeeper, Santa, was leaving. I had bought two melons so that Santa could make juice with them. As I walked up the stairs she was locking the door and I just didn't have the heart to ask her to turn around and go back in to make the juice. I tell her that I have no more juice and ask if she will make it. Her answer? "Santa will be here on Wednesday."

Problems I Have With Soccer

I have been watching the World Cup Soccer Tournament. Aside from the problem I have with the noise of the vuvuzela, which are so annoying that they should be appearing on the streets here any day, I have a number of problems with the game as played.

1)Diving- This is a very popular "play" during soccer matches. When a player has the ball and is moving near an opponent, if he loses the ball, or sometimes even when he doesn't, he falls down, claiming to have been fouled. The referee is usually far away from the act and has to make his decision based on sketchy information. I watched one guy play act an injury in an effort to use up the clock in overtime. It worked. He pretended not to be able to move, waited for a stretcher to come carry him off the field, allowed himself to be lifted onto the gurney, and then hopped off the stretcher as soon as he was off the field. This used up almost 5 minutes.
2) The referees suck. There appears to be only one and it seems as if either they are not paying attention, the fix is in, or they just are doing a lousy job. In the games I watched several non goals were allowed and some actual goals were disallowed. How about some more officials?
3) Since using your hands is illegal, why not give the appropriate penalty to a player when he does so. Ghana lost because an opposing player (not the goalie) used his hands to stop a ball from crossing the plane of the goal. This absolutely would have been a goal. Instead, the team from Ghana was given a free kick. Why? Why have to try to kick a goal, when if not for a flagrant foul, it would have been a goal. Ghana missed the free kick, the game went to overtime and Ghana wound up losing. That was a bad result. Ghana should have won.

Thought For The Day

http://i48.tinypic.com/jh6048.gif

This Just In

Cow seduces Indonesian man
Jun 11, 2010 12:26 PM | By Sapa-dpa

An 18-year-old man on Indonesia's resort island of Bali claimed he was seduced by a cow after being caught having sex with the animal.



A neighbour caught Gusti Ngurah Alit in the act on Sunday and immediately reported him to local authorities, village chief Embang Ida Bagus Legawa said.

"He was caught by one of the residents standing naked while holding the back of the cow," Legawa said.

On Friday, Alit underwent a cleansing ritual in which he was bathed and the cow was drowned in the sea to rid the village of bad luck.

Alit said he did not see a cow but a beautiful young woman. "She called my name and seduced me, so I had sex with her," he said.

He had to pay 2,000 old coins as a traditional punishment while the village chief paid the owner of the cow 5 million rupiah (545 dollars) in compensation.

An Old Favorite

Every couple of months Massiel does a little housekeeping on my nose. (It is safe to keep reading, there is no more nose news.) It is really quite painful. As I am complaining, she always tells me how it doesn't really hurt. Tonight when she told me that I was reminded of one of may favorite jokes that I used to tell 40 years ago.

Ahmed was a camel driver. He knew that if he gelded his favorite camel, the camel would be more manageable, be able to go further with less water, and carry greater loads. The problem was that Ahmed had come to be very fond of this camel and he knew that the castration would be very painful, consequently he could not bring himself to do it. One day, however, while walking through the market he passed a stall with a sign that said, "Camels gelded painlessly". Ahmed spoke with the stall operator, Mahmoud, and they set a price.
The next day Ahmed showed up at the agreed upon time with his camel. Mahmoud picked up two large bricks and walked around to the back of the camel to where he would have complete access to the camel's private parts. He quickly clapped the two bricks together as hard as he could on the camel's privates. The camel immediately started to scream and fell to his knees in pain. Ahmed went to the camel and started cradling his head to try to alleviate the pain, but to know avail. The camel kept screaming. Ahmed turned to Mahmoud and said, "But you told me it was painless". Mahmoud replied, "Trust me, if you don't get your thumbs in between the bricks, you don't feel a thing".

I know how the camel felt.

If You Didn't Go There Yet

This is just one of the many hysterical email exhanges that awaits you at wwww.dontevenreply.com :


This one was a little tricky. If you didn't figure it out, I am both Mike Anderson and Kira Anderson.
Original ad:
i am looking to trade/barter my 1994 Jeep Wrangler. 140k miles, yellow, good condition. NO CASH. I will barter just about anything of equal value!


From Mike Anderson to **********@***********.org
CC: Kira Anderson

Hey,

I saw your ad for a '94 Wrangler for barter. I will trade you my whore of a wife for that car. She is a dirty little slut that fucks just about anything that moves. She doesn't really have much to offer, so I figure she is worth about the price of a used 1994 wrangler. I understand if you think she isn't worth it, so I am willing to throw in $200 cash on top of that. If you are looking for a loose whore that will give it up easily, my wife will be well worth the trade. Let me know if you are interested. Does the Wrangler come with a title?

From Jim ***** to Me

Ha ha! Very funny. I am married and don't think I would be interested in your wife. Thanks for the offer though!

From Kira Anderson to Me, Jim *****

OH FUCK YOU MIKE!! DROP FUCKING DEAD!!! YOU ARE SUCH A SCUMBAG PIECE OF SHIT I FUCKING HATE YOU!!!

From Mike Anderson to Kira Anderson, Jim *****

Fuck YOU, you stupid cunt! What are you doing on the computer? I figured you were fucking Steve again. Or how about our neighbor? I'm sure he's looking to stick his dick in some rotten pussy. You fucking twat.

From Kira Anderson to Me, Jim *****

MIKE YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE THIS IS IT. DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT COMING HOME TODAY BECAUSE ILL BE WAITING WITH A FUCKIN KNIFE

From Mike Anderson to Kira Anderson, Jim *****

Ooh I'm real fucking scared. It might be kind of hard to stab me with 10 inches of black dick in your mouth you fucking WHORE

From Jim ***** to Me, Kira Anderson

Hey you two sound like a great couple and all, but could you stop including me in these e-mails? I really don't think this concerns me.

From Kira Anderson to Mike Anderson, Jim *****

TELL YOU WHAT JIM ILL BUY YOUR FUCKING WRANGLER SO I CAN RUN OVER MY PIECE OF SHIT HUSBAND WITH IT

From Mike Anderson to Jim *****, Kira Anderson

Jim don't sell it to her. She'll probably pick up a random dude and crash the jeep while she's sucking his dick.

From Kira Anderson to Mike Anderson, Jim *****

FUCK YOU

From Jim ***** to Me, Kira Anderson

Will both of you shut the fuck up and stop e-mailing me? Jesus fucking christ man c'mon!

I Like To Think That I Am Funny, But

Every so often I come across something on the internet that literally makes me laugh out loud.

Go to: http://www.dontevenreply.com/ and read a couple of the threads.

You Can Quote Me

These are originals:

In the Dominican Republic there is no difference between doing something, and doing it well.

There is nothing a Dominican would rather say than "No se"(I don't know), unless its NO. And they say both of them very quickly to show their pride in their answer.

Dominicans know how to make things work again, they just don't know how to fix them.

Having a good excuse for doing something wrong is just as good as doing it right.

Masters Of Premature.............Celebration

Here's what's wrong with the DR:

From todays's DR1:




Ubaldo candidate to Cy Young

Colorado Rockies ace pitcher, Dominican Ubaldo Jimenez (38) is the clear frontrunner for the National League Cy Young award. He showed his extraordinary talent again when pitching a complete game four-hitter as the Rockies beat the San Francisco Giants 4-0. Jimenez has dominated in 2010. He has thrown 26 consecutive scoreless innings, breaking his previous franchise record for a starting pitcher, reports the Denver Post.


I am sure that Jimenez had a great two months, so far this season. But to think about it terms of the Cy Young award on THE FIRST OF JUNE is absolutely stupid.
This is what Dominicans always do in everything. They have a little success at something and then, instead of seeing it through, and doing the hard work necessary, they start to celebrate how great they are. And then, of course, they forget what they were doing and then it falls apart.

My New Password

Mr. Knockers

Rita

It would be very easy to write more often about the idiots that I deal with on a regular basis. Normally, if I am dealing with a Dominican there is very little good to say about them. In fact, it is very hard to include people in a post who are normal, I deal with so few. For those reasons, I am delighted to write this post.

I noticed when I first came here that when traveling around I would see groups of women with children out together on weekends. I was struck by how often I saw this. It didn't take long before I realized that the reason behind this was that men here think nothing of having children and then abandoning the mother and the children. The responsibility becomes too much. It's easier to just get out. So they do. Of course, this puts an awesome responsibility on the mother, a responsibility with which, most of the time, they are not equipped to cope. They do the best they can, OR, they give up as well. They can't really just leave the kids so they do the next best thing. They give the children to their grandparents, again usually just the grandmother (the grandfather split a long time ago). Now the grandmother has the burden of raising her grandchildren. It wasn't enough that she raised her own kids, now the grandchildren become her responsibility as well. I would have to guess that usually this does not work out well. However, sometimes it works out great.

Rita is Massiel's grandmother (she still lives with her husband). Massiel's mom gave her to Rita to raise shortly after she was born. She took her back at age 7. She lived "with her mother" for four years. Well, actually she was being cared for by someone else, but they were in the same country for 4 years. Then Massiel came back to the DR and lived with her father for 2 years. Then it was back to Rita. Sometimes I make fun of Massiel, but she is really a wonderful person, maybe the nicest person that I have met in the DR. She is honest, smart, hardworking, and just really a good soul. (I am getting laid tonight,with or without this testimonial.) I believe that people's upbringing determine the type of adult that they become.

Massiel's aunt, somewhere along the way, decided that raising her three kids was too much for her. She dumped them on Rita, as well. The boy, Jose, has moved out of the house and is working. He is a very sweet young man. The two girls, Jessica and Kiara are amazing. They are as good as you could ever hope children would be. One is 12 and the other 14. They often come to our house to sleep. When they do, as soon as they enter the door, they take out their books and start doing their homework. They work hard. They have become wonderful students and share all of the qualities that I find so appealing in Massiel. I believe that they are as they are because of Rita.

Tonight, Mother's Day, we took Rita out for dinner, a small and woefully inadequate show of appreciation to a really wonderful woman.

A $449.95 (That's US Dollars) Toilet Seat

I hope I have never let anyone down by referring them to a website that they didn't find entertaining. I know I am not going to hear any disappointment from anyone about:

http://sandman.com/intimst.html

If you shit or piss, this is a must see website. You must watch the 5 minute video.

YOU MUST!!!

Defensive Eating

Defensive eating is something that most of us do, but few ever realize that we are doing it.
I love to eat. Even though I am in the DR, where the food choices are often limited, I make sure that I always have stuff to eat that I really like in the house or with me. It doesn't have to be anything fancy. It could be as simple as Fitness Corn Flakes or a chocolate bar, but be assured, there is always something that I really like in the kitchen or in my possession. When I first started dating Massiel she had the best body of any woman I had ever been with, and maybe ever seen. After we were dating for about 6 months I realized, and mentioned to her, that she had started to "put on a few". Turns out that she enjoys eating more than I do. Unfortunately for me, she enjoys everything that I like. It took a while until I realized that stuff that I was hoarding, to eat at the appropriate time, was missing. It didn't take too long to figure out where it was going. The cats, not having opposable thumbs, can't open the closets or the refrigerator. It couldn't be them. That eliminated all possible suspects with the exception of Massiel. After a while I realized that if there was something that I really wanted to eat, I had two choices. I could hide it or I could eat it. Hiding food seems like kind of shitty thing to do. I have always told our cleaning lady, or any guest sleeping over that anything that was in the house was their's to eat if they wanted to. This eventually led to never inviting one friend to never stay over because she took this too literally. But how could I hide food that I wanted from my wife? The answer is that I can't so I came to the conclusion that if I wanted to eat something, I had to do it right away. To leave it was to make it fair game, and the disappointment of it not being there when I wanted it wasn't worth it. So I started to finish food that I might not normally finish, so that I could be sure that I would be the one eating it. That is defensive eating. I told my daughter about the concept of Defensive Eating (eating something to insure that you are the one who gets to eat it) a couple of months ago and she thought it was kind of a silly idea. I spoke with her last night and mentioned that once again I had done it. I told her that the night before I had opened a Mas Y Mas chocolate bar. This is a chocolate bar that has raisins and peanuts. I am a chocoholic and have identified this as the best chocolate bar made here in the DR. It breaks into five pieces. I was at the computer reading something and I put two pieces in my mouth. Massiel saw me eating this and asked me for a piece, which I of course gave to her. As I did this, of course, I quickly come to the realization that she was going to want more, but hey, I wanted it. So, to avoid a problem, I quickly slipped the two remaining pieces in my mouth, even though I hadn't finished the first two. Sure enough, a minute later Massiel asks for another piece, and I had to say, "I'm sorry, but there is no more". YEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Defensive eating strikes again. After I told my daughter this story she confessed to me that now that she was aware that it existed, what had seemed like a really silly concept, was actually something that she often found herself doing, she had just never given it a name.

Finnicky Eaters

We have two cats, Harry and QD. QD is very friendly and loving, always craving attention and affection. Harry, is exactly the opposite. He is not only not very friendly but he is also very shy. He rarely comes out of his two comfort locations. The only time they both act the same is when it comes to food. In the morning I clean out their litter, put out fresh water, and refill their food plate. They share the hard food. I buy Purina Feline Favorites food. Purina comes in several other flavors, but "the boys" as we call them have rejected the other tastes. Cats are known to be very finnicky eaters and certainly our two are no exceptions. They have taken being picky to a new level. For a long time, as a treat I have bought them tuna fish in cans. It started when I noticed a sale on canned tuna for around 24 pesos. To put that in perspective, a can of Bumble Bee Albacore tuna is around 135 pesos. For 24 pesos you get tuna that is kind of like pulled pieces that are not in any way solid. The tuna sits in water. They loved it. I used to put all the tuna on one plate and then I realized that QD was bullying Harry and forcing him to leave the plate until he was finished. So I started to put out separate plates. I put one on either side of the water bottle we keep on the floor in the kitchen. Then one day at Pola I saw a chunky style of tuna on sale for 35 pesos. It was real tuna meat. This was their house brand and this too was packed in water. I bought a couple of cans. When I put it out the boys were in heaven. When these were gone I went back to the cheaper tuna. THEY BOYCOTTED IT. They refused to eat it. The next time I saw the chunk tuna on sale was at Nacional. It was a different brand. They both loved it. When that ran out I again bought the Pola house brand. QD refused to eat it. That was all I had so Harry ate plenty and QD ate only the dry food. Harry now will not eat the Nacional brand, QD won't eat the Pola brand, so when I give them tuna I have to make sure that I have both brands. That's amazing.

The Jimmy Legs Convention

During many episodes of "Seinfeld" reference is made to something called "The Jimmy Legs". I think that Kramer was the first to mention it in an episode. He was referring to the condition that some people have that causes their legs to twitch, most notably in the bed. I am sure that most people have been sitting somewhere when suddenly they became aware of the floor shaking. This is a version of the Jimmy Legs. This is someone forcing their leg to bounce up and down voluntarily. This is a habit. I believe it is something that people who are not really capable of thinking do in order to occupy their minds. They have to concentrate to do it and it alleviates the need to think.
When I first got sick a couple of weeks ago I went to see my doctor and had 7 people waiting ahead of me. Doctors here don't work by appointment as they do in most countries. That is because Dominicans have no respect for each other and never show up anywhere on time, least of all at a doctors office. During my years working here I have been invited to, or planned, many meetings. I am the originator of the expression, "What time will the 4:00 P.M meeting start?" There's a valid reason behind the question. I recently was invited, with my wife, to dinner. We were supposed to meet at 7:00. My friend and his wife were there waiting when we showed up at 6:50. The next person showed up at 8:15 and the last couple showed up at 8:30, and thought nothing of it.
Anyway, I was waiting for the doctor. I was really sick. I was weak. I was dizzy. I was really in bad shape. A guy came and sat down next to me. He immediately started shaking his hands. At first I thought he had some sort of palsy. Then he stopped and relaxed for a couple of minutes. Then he started jiggling his legs. I was starting to get nauseous. The constant motion was killing me. I moved so that he was out of my view. Unfortunately I moved opposite another guy who had the Jimmy Legs. I sat there a little while and again started to feel that I was going to puke. I moved again. I know its hard to believe but I was now face to face with a Jimmy Legs woman. That was it. I couldn't take it any more. I told the Doctor's receptionist that in case she couldn't find me I would be around the corner, out of her sight, sitting where there was no one else. I have come to realize, since that day that The Jimmy Legs is a common malady here. I am sure it is an alternative to thinking. It seems to be working.

No. Or No Se

I came here more than 10 years ago and almost immediately started living in Santiago. At that time there was only one decent casino, The Gran Almirante. It was big, well lit, and nicely decorated. From the get go, however, there was something about it that bothered me. I commented on it probably within the first ten times that I went in there, maybe sooner. It didn't take long to realize that every request, whether reasonable, rational, or fair, was always met with the same speedy, unthoughtout response....NO. It didn't take long before I started to refer to this casino as Casino NO. Whatever I wanted. No. And it wasn't just me. It seemed as though everybody that I ever heard make a request was greeted with the same answer. Often the answer came out before the question was completed.
Having now spent 10 years here, I have come to realize that this speed No answer is not just confined to this casino. Go to any store, ask any clerk a question. The answer is always no. Start a sentence with "Do you, or May I" and usually before the sentence is finished the NO is delivered. There is nothing that a Dominican would rather tell you than NO.
The only thing close to it is NO Se(I don't know). You could be asking someones age, if the sun is out, or if the person is breathing. 90%of the time you will get a quick, "No se". It's as if not knowing and telling someone quickly is a good as knowing the information requested. I said in a meeting once that in this country, having a good excuse for doing something poorly is the same as doing it right.