Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Scarface (For A While) Killed The Latino Actor


Today marks the 25th anniversary of the release of Scarface. I saw Scarface when I was 10 and all I thought was, “Coño, Cubans are some cutthroat mofos.” It wasn’t until my college years when I realized the impact it had on my generation. Rappers, in particular, used Tony Montana’s story as inspiration and sprinkled references in their rhymes. Once I found out Tony was really an Italian-American actor from New York, it made think differently of the film. Is this how America perceives Latinos? Immigrants who take the easy way out and push dope to get the American Dream. First you get the money, then you get the power and then, apparently, you upgrade from a Latina to Michelle Pfeiffer.

Five years ago I attended a party for the 20th anniversary of Scarface. It was for work and it was in Puerto Rico. And yes, the trip was dope. The scene was grand with cigar rollers, models and rappers all around. Jay-Z flew in by way of helicopter to perform a few tracks. Hey, I told you it was grand. I saw Pharrell for the first time looking like an ant could out-bench-press him. The point I’m trying to make is that for all its influence all these cats didn’t realize the harm it did to Latinos. After Scarface, a Latino was regulated to playing the greasy drug dealer (Miami Vice, Traffic, Empire), who in the end always lost. And in the end we lost as well.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Meet My Niece Maria, I Mean, Morgan


So after doing some power prayers to the almighty G-O-D my pregnant sister, Mercedes is not pregnant anymore. She gave birth to a baby girl this past Sunday; she’s a preemie just like her uncle was back in 1980. She’s a tiny, tiny human being…all of four pounds. The doctors say she’ll be home for Christmas. Now on to her name. My big sis named her first-born Madison. Umm. OK. She named the new one Morgan. This wouldn’t much to talk about if my sister was raised on suburbia or even married a fella of say the Caucasian persuasion. But it’s odd because she married a Puerto Rican with a Puerto Rock last name.

Of course, she can name her children what she wishes because, well, they were in her. And I’m not subjecting my boy to ridicule by naming him “Jesus” or “Jose” or any other stereotype. But how do I explain to my fellow spicaroos that I have two nieces named Madison and Morgan without cracking a smile. Maybe my sister is thinking ahead and wants her fair-skinned babies to get ahead in the corporate ladder with squeaky clean names. I just know it’ll probably be my job to add sazon to their lily-white upbringing. Plus, my mother’s broken English should make-up for anything I forget.

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, November 21, 2008

Stuff My Turkey And Mine Too


Once you get hitched the holidays become a negotiation. Unless you married an orphan, chances are you have to discuss which family you’ll be celebrating with. Thanksgiving is a toss-up; you can base it on which mother cooks better or you could do both—dinner at one place and dessert at the next. Now Christmas is the tricky one. As a Latino we do our partying on Christmas Eve while the 25th we stay home and play with any new gadgets we got the previous night. For me it’s even trickier because my father-in-law’s birthday is on Dec. 24th.

Even though it’s the guy’s born day we still split up Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve. The wife always tries to guilt-trip me by saying it’s her daddy’s birthday. While I’m thinking, “It’s baby Jesus’ bday also.” But we stick to the plan and we alternate holidays at different homes. This year I’ll get to see my lil nieces open their presents and get to kiss my wife as the Times Square ball drops in front of the in-laws. Plus, there’s a possibility that the wife, sis-in-law and her parents want to go clubbing afterwards. Oh, the joy! What’s your holiday plan with your mate?

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, November 14, 2008

Willie Colon Would’ve Slaughtered The Latin Grammys


It’s great to hear Juanes won pretty much every Latin Grammy last night. Dude is a huge, pause, talent and deserves all the awards he gets. I didn’t watch much of the Latin Grammys, I only caught Victor Manuelle’s ill performance. It was a ton of Latinos dancing stage with VM improvising, as he always does, with the audience. If a non-Latino would have switched to Univision at that moment they would’ve thought, “I didn’t know In the Heights was on TV!” The showstoppers were a pair of kid dancers who punished the stage with their steps. I suggested to the wife, “If we have a boy I’m putting him in salsa class.” She said, “How about if it’s a girl?” I said, “Hell no! She’s taking karate.”

But I digress. It got me thinking of all the great salseros of yesteryear. Like La Voz, Blades, Willie, Ish Rivera, etc. Had the Latin Grammys been around in the ‘70s those cats would’ve Juanes-ed those joints. Or better yet if Willie Colon was a new artist today would Juanes even have a chance in the “Album of the Year” category? Imagine Ruben and Willie writing about a post-George W. Bush world, Latin American politics, illegal immigration, etc. Shoot some of their songs are still very relevant today (see “Plastico”).

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Got Milk?


I’ve never been one to shy away from men’s magazines. I’m a subscriber to some (Playboy), have written for them (King), and even been an editor-in-chief (Fuego) to one. But even when I was an EIC of a lad mag I felt weird being at photo shoots where women would have to make to the camera. You always have to straddle the line between sexy and provocative.

I was surfing the web this morning and came across a pic that had to be approved by Uncle Luke. It was on an urban music site and I literally guffawed at the pic. It was of a thick model in a bikini on all fours licking a bowl of milk. WTF!? I can only imagine how the pic came about:

Photographer: I’m thinking you get on all fours, pretend you’re a cat and oh yeah lick this bowl of milk.
Model: Is this real milk?
Photographer: I believe so.
Model: OK, then.

You would think the site is at fault for running the pic but I think otherwise. It lies plainly on the photog and the model. How does being barely naked and licking a bowl of milk for a pic positively advance your career?

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, November 3, 2008

Grandmas Are Priceless; Just Ask Barack Obama


My heart goes out to Barack Obama. He’s on the heels of becoming the first African-American prez in U.S. history and his grandmamma dies of cancer a day before Election Day. Every single person can relate to losing a loved one. My abuela, which I called Mami Maria, also died of cancer. She was a devout Evangelist but never once forced her faith upon me only her love. After my grandpop died at age 39, she was left to raise my aunts and later on her grandchildren.

Unlike Obama’s grandmom, mine didn’t raise me. I would only talk to her via phone and visit her during my summer vacations in Ecuador. But every time I would go down there I would make sure to take care of her: food, money, a hug. She in turn would treat me like the man of the house (I would get the biggest piece of meat). She would always tell me the age-old Latino sayings: “Tell me who you hang out with and I’ll tell who you are,” or “You see their faces but never their hearts.” She wanted the best for me.

The last time I saw her was when I was 19. As tears were racing down her face, she gave me a tight hug as to say, I won’t ever see you again. Assuming I would see her soon I told her to calm down. Next year, we get the call that she has advanced ovarian cancer. Weeks later she was gone. It crushed my family. I know the day I do accomplish one my ultimate goal in life I would want to have Mami Maria there. But more importantly I wanted her there for the small feats (getting a byline) and the life-changing ones (getting married). So what I’m saying is I feel for you Obama. I know this won’t make his pain any easier but he’s got my vote.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Zack & Miri Make A Porno & Lil’ Jesus Watches It


I really want to see Zack & Miri Make a Porno this Friday but the wife isn’t down. She’s had her fill (pause) of Seth Rogen and his stoner comedy. I haven’t. Plus, it reminds me of the first porno I watched; don’t worry no graphic details here. I was 9 or 10 I believe, and everyone in my apartment was sound asleep. I crept out of bed and went to the living room to watch some cable. I had been curious about the channels with the squiggly lines and moans aka the pay-per-view porn channel. Little did I know you could order it with the touch of one button! I started finagling with the remote control until finally it came on.

Gulp! Next thing I see is boobies and ass and I’m fascinated. I lower the volume and essentially start watching a silent porno called Love Button 2. I only watched s couple of minutes because my sister came out and I got scared shitless. A couple of weeks pass by and the cable bill comes…dum, dum, dum. My sis is like, “Who ordered Love Button 2?” Gulp! Everyone acts bewildered and I play along. Long story short I ordered some more movies the following month and the pussy…err…cat was out of the bag. My sis gave me the “talk” and they put a parental lock on the cable box so I couldn’t press any ‘love buttons’ anymore. Somehow, I didn’t grow up to be a porn addict; probably because of that parental lock. How old were you when you watched your first porn?

Uno,

Jesus

Thursday, October 16, 2008

No Way Jose


Being named after God’s child is a pretty big responsibility. I love my name and wouldn’t change it for the world. So why do some people insist on calling me “Jose.” [Read here for past blog]. A publicist today emailed me (meaning she had my full name) and said “Hey Jose.” Is it that they simply assume since I’m Latino and have a name with a “J” that it must be Jose. Plus, Jesus is as common among Latinos as Ali is among Muslims.

After I emailed the publicist to say “my name is actually Jesus;” she apologized and I kept it moving. One of the many things I’ve learned from the wife is that people like it when you say their name correctly. Whenever we go to a restaurant she makes it a point to get the waiter’s name. Then after every interaction she’ll say, “Thank you, [Waiter’s name]. It’s a small gesture but it goes a long way.

Uno,

Jose, errr, I mean Jesus

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Omar Cruz Is 'Top' Dog



The big homie Omar Cruz finally dropped a video for his radio-friendly, Frankie J-assisted “To the Top.” It’s straight L.A.; it kinda of reminds me of Pac’s “I Get Around” clip but with a bunch of Latins in the mix. It was directed by Wilmer Valderrama (ehhh) and Fez also makes a corny cameo in it. But take the greasy fucker out of there and you have yourself the real OC rhyming and J singing angelically, pause. Support Latinos in this rap ish.

Uno,

Jesus

Thursday, October 9, 2008

I Heart Manny Ramirez (Pause)


Once I read this funkymind post I started thinking duke is right. Men won’t admit when another dude is good-looking. It’s what we do. I have three famous dudes I would really like to chill with (pause) not because of their looks but because they seem to be cool ass dudes.

1.Manny Ramirez—I love when Manny is being Manny. The dreadlocked dominicano makes any team he’s on instantly better. Plus, he always seems to be having a great time whether it’s demanding a trade or when he’s at bat while Style P’s “I Get High” plays in the background. Sidenote: A co-worker of mine referred to him as Man Ram! Pause! He’s a right-handed hitter not a switch hitter.
2.Juanes—This cat is simply amazing. His music is dope (I used his song, “Nada valgo sin tu amor,” to propose to the wife) and he’s always donating time and money to Latin America’s disenfranchised.
3.Guy Fieri/Bobby Flay—The wife says these are my man-crushes, pause. But even if they were could you blame me? They look like they’d be down to hit up a baseball game and then cook for you. Bobby throws everything on a grill and Guy hits up diners for a living—dream jobs if you ask me.
Bobby Flay

In summary, I hope Manny becomes a Met, if you listen to any Spanish music at all make sure Juanes is on your list and Bobby and Guy can cater my daughter’s quiñcenera.

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Beaners Still Love Beans...You Should Too


As the world economy is approaching Mad Max times (I exaggerate because I’m a journalist) all is well with Goya. According to the Pasadena Star News the largest Latino-owned food biz is close to clocking in $1 billion in sales this year; which leads me to believe that in times of social distress Latinos can always rely on a can of beans. But it’s also a direct result of more people cooking at home rather than shelling out for a restaurant meal.

"People tend to go back to the basics," said Evelio Fernandez, Goya's vice president. "We've seen spikes in the sales of rice, beans and cooking oils. People aren't eating out at restaurants, they're cooking at home. That's why we continue to grow."

I always knew that my lifelong love affair (thanks Mom) with beans would pay off in the long run. Butt trumpets and all the bean is king in the Trivino clan, as well as the Pantojas, Guzmans, etc. So hop on the bandwagon and enjoy some rice and beans with your Latino friends. Just make sure to exit the room when you feel the stomach bubbles don’t try to cough that shit off. We’re on to you.

Uno,

Jesus

[Source]

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Tattoos? What Tattoos?

Don't let the smile fool ya.
The two tattoos I have are very significant to me but what will I tell my children? You see, the other day I was hanging with my 2-year-old niece, Madison aka the Mad One, and she was as, she always is, a handful. I was rocking a wife beater and she pointed at my tat on my right upper arm; it’s of an Incan symbol my grandfather carved decades ago. She pointed at it, poked at it and then proceeded to lick it! I immediately stopped her and she then picked up a bag of stale Cheetos and poured it over my head. Nice kid, right? Just kidding, I love the brat but more importantly it got me thinking, what am I going to tell my children about my tats when they want to get one?

A)I’m your father and I am the law in this house. B) Tattoos? What tattoos? C) Ask your mother? In reality, I’ll probably just state the truth: I was 24 when I got my first tattoo (it’s on my right leg and says “Free Press” and coincidently burns every time I switch to Fox News) and I paid for it with my own dinero. The second tattoo represents my culture, family and was done by Chris Nunez from Miami Ink. Best of all it was free because it was for a magazine profile on him. Sweet! But I'll probably just say, “Go ask your mother.”

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, September 29, 2008

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Republicans + Mets + Marriage = Gray Hair


I have a couple of gray hairs on my head (pause)! I can’t believe that at 28-year-old I have four strands of gray fuckin’ hair. The good thing is that you can only notice it if you’re face-to-face with me—which only my wife is. I guess there are three reasons for my gray hairs.

1.Republicans—The thought of having another four years under the Republican regime and the proposed bailout plan has me popping up with gray hairs in unsightly places (pause). Like my toes.
2.The Mets—Not since the Knicks of the ‘90s has my fanhood been tested like this. It’s like I’m a proclaimed sadomasochist by saying I’m a Mets fan. Sometimes it’s easier just to jump on the winners’ bandwagon…but the Yankees suck even more than the Mets this year. Orange and blue forever (tear).
3.Marriage—As much as I love my wife the few times we have arguments I feel like a douche, a gray-haired douche at that. (See here).

But I won’t let the wife pluck’em. I’ll sport them with a badge of honor and watch less Mets games.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

I’m An Asshole (No Pause) Husband Sometimes


I feel shitty when I have spat with my wife. She’s the only person ever to make me feel like a douche after a fight. We got into over some stupidity (on my part) this past weekend and it completely messed up my vibe. Monday came and we still weren’t talking. My workday was difficult because she was on my mind. Should I get her flowers? Nah, then it will take away the value of flowers when I get it for no reason. Should I buy her a gift? I would but it’s a recession, homie. Wait! Hallmark will do the trick. I’m a writer so why not buy someone else’s words to describe my emotions?

Anyway, the point here is that when I was dating and get into arguments with my gfs I would be fine. I would say hurtful things and wouldn’t give a flying fuck. Obviously, it’s because they meant nada to me. Yes, I was an emotionless asshole boyfriend at times. But not now! Since I started dating the wife our fights have always weighed heavy on my conscious because she means the world to me. And that my friends is a tell-tale sign that you’re in love.

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, September 19, 2008

If You’re Dating A Thug…


I thought the whole fascination with dating a thug was gone but I was wrong. The above clip shows singer, La La (whose been attempting to pop off for years now) and her tips on dating a dbag thug. She would know because she’s got a single called “Sprung on a Thug” (nice, right) and she’s from L.A. where cholos are as rampant as hipsters at an underground rap show. Point here is that there should be no tips on dating a thug; these mofos don’t date they fuck and keep it moving to the next chick.

If you’re dating a thug now you probably a) have low self-esteem, b) believe you can change him and c) are probably under 21. I assume most girls have their bad boy stage but there are a lot of good dudes, pause, out there who don’t gang bang, deal coke or beat on you, in a bad way. Growing up I knew “thugs” and I even chilled with them but then I grew up. They didn’t. There’s one cat that sticks out in particular. We used to chill, smoke, and tag up in junior high. We lost touch after graduation. When I was a senior in high school and on my way to college I tutored some GED students at a local community center. I recognized him in my first class and once he saw me he bounced immediately. You see, it’s all about change but if you’re 28 and still have a G mentality then you’re gonna lose.

Uno,

Jesus

PS: I never sold crack, either.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Some Of My Best Friends Are White!


I just got back from a much needed vacation. The wife and I usually go outside the States but this recession is a mutha so we decided to go somewhere we would blend in easily—Miami. Plus we have good friends down there: my homie Jerome and her BFF Adriana. The one night I decide to drink and get buzzed I end up saying something offensive or so they tell me. It was Adri, Priscilla (my wife’s Cali BFF), Oz (Pris’ hubby and a Marine; salute ya bastids), and Adri’s bf Jerry. Along with them were two of Adri’s new Miami amigas; one of them was a Caucasian and once I threw back an Irish car bomb I quickly reminded her of it.

You see, her blanquita friend took salsa dancing classes. I was intrigued to find out why she was attracted to our culture. Jerry chimed in and said it was because of all the Latin man meat, pause, in Miami. I do remember asking her the aforementioned question but not being offensive. The next day driving to a mall, Adri scolds me like her stepchild. She tells me that I shouldn’t have grilled her friend because I just met her. As sweat trickled down my cheeks (on my face) I was a little taken aback but I stood my ground. She then felt bad and offered me a water bottle with dirt on it. I rejected it and she called me an asshole (back to normal). She did make me think that I do say things, at times, that make my wife crawl under a table. I just can’t fake the funk; if you’re an asshole, pause, chances are I won’t talk to you. Plus some of my best friends are blancos! (Right, Jerome?)

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Just Shoot Me, Already


I had my first photo shoot today. No, really, I did. The J-O is making me into a “star blogger” when we re-launch later this year and since I am on my way to be a “star” then I need my press shots. But seriously, the J-O made me do it. It was a bit awkward for a guy who’s been at photo shoots with rappers and models but never been in one. I felt a lil’ dbag-ish but I went along with it. The photog’s name was Juan (a co-worker) and he took shots of me sporting everything my wife doesn’t want me to wear anymore. (Note: T-shirts with dead rappers are big no-no in her book. Apparently adults don’t wear those. Pfft!)

I had on a Willie Colon t-shirt on with a Mets cap, sunglasses and saggy jeans. It was pretty much the garb I wore when I was 18. Along with the gear I also brought some props: CDs and my iPod since I am the music blogger it makes sense. As the minutes ticked I got more into it: I tipped my cap, did the no-smile look numerous times and even through some CDs. On our way back from the site (it was a rooftop) he took pics of me walking in Midtown Manhattan, which totally made me look like a dbag. It looked like I paid a guy to take pics of me. But it is New York City so as long as I wasn’t murdering puppies, people can give two shits.

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Don’t Worry I Won’t Fart On You


For last couple of months I finally have gotten serious about my health again. I've been hitting the gym with the homie Carl and even got myself a trainer. Throughout my life I've been pleasantly plump (with skinny periods in kindergarten and a brief stint as a creatine-drinking college student) and always went on diets only to gain the weight back. Having a trainer now is extremely helpful; when my fat ass thinks I can't do one more rep she calls me a bitch and threatens to rape me with a dumbbell, pause. Her name is Maria (insert Jesus/Maria joke here) and she’s a good teacher. I'm at the stabilizing stage which is code for losing the fat.

In the past I've been used to doing regular routines but with Maria, well, she’s the creative type. She has me doing lunges like crazy, go up and down stairs with dumbbells, balance myself on one leg and lift a midget. The leg exercises are usually the most painful and adventure-filled. Adventure I say because I always fear I might push to hard and my ass becomes Willie Colon or for the non-Latins Miles Davis. I'm sure she's gotten farted on and even quiffed on before but I don't want to feed into the “fat guy” stereotype. Not all chubbsters fart at will. All in all it's going great. I'm losing inches, pause, and gaining stamina. Plus, I always make sure not to eat any beans (force of habit) before I my training session. Have you ever had a personal trainer?

Uno,

Jesus

Bow Wow Needs Bodyguards (Word to Gang Starr)



Standing outside my wife's job (Clear Channel) I notice a little boy stroll by with ginormous earrings. When I take a closer look I notice it's Bow Wow accompanied by some brolic dude (suckas need bodyguards). He must be here to be interviewed at Power 105, I think to myself. My second thought is I could kick the snot out of this kid. He was so tiny that my little bro-in-law Chris could kick his ass.

Now, I ain't a bully but I ain't Mr. Softee; there are certain MCs I can see snuffin’ like Bow, Berg, Soulja...hmm pretty much any and all of those ringtone rappers. Also as much as I heart Kanye, pause, I can see him being all talk and no punch as well as Pharrell's alien ass. Which MC do you think you could go Iron Mike circa ‘88 on?

Uno,

Jesus

Thursday, September 4, 2008

NY Met Fans vs. NY Yankee Fans


I try not to believe in stereotypes but when it comes to some NY Yankee fans it's hard not to. The wife scored some great seats to this past Saturday's game against Toronto. As an avid Mets fan I never gave two shits about the Bronx stadium but with this being its last year I had to touch down before it was gone. Before I went I mentioned it to Tony G. AKA my former boss AKA my mentor AKA my white papa, pause, and he offered some precautionary words of advice. Yankee fans are butt plugs, he said, or something to that effect. I've heard that before but I thought he was just saying that because he’s an orange and blue man himself.

I hate to be wrong. We get to Yankee Stadium it was, yes, great seats but unfortunately we had a dbag couple right behind us. It was the first inning and they were already drunk.

Drunken Girl: "If I wasn't here with you it would mean nothing."
Drunken Guy: "It would be fine with me...Hey Johnnnnnny!"
Drunken Girl: "The biggest problem we have is that you want a big wedding and I want something intimate."
Drunken Guy: "Hey Deeeeeerrrrrrrrrreeeekkkk!"
Drunken Girl: "But if you want a big wedding that's what we'll do."
Drunken Guy: "Who said we were getting married? Hey Aaaallllleeeeeexxxxx!"

And on and on. We couldn't take it anymore and we bounced by the bottom of the third inning. I had walked the hall where baseball (and Fania) legends once roamed and I will never set foot on it again. I might be bias because of my Mr. Met stuffed animal, pause, in the back of my car but who do you think are generally bigger anuses (pause): Mets or Yankees fans?

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

The Axis of Evil: Gossip Girl, The Hills & 90210



TV is rotting my wife’s brain. Mine too, yes, but I tend to watch more than just one type of genre. Even though she enjoys watching documentaries and NY Met games (not really) with me she is fan of privileged TV. Meaning she likes to watch the Axis of Evil: Gossip Girl, The Hills and now the new 90210. While we’re on the subject of 90210, what’s so “new” about it? Just because you add iPods and an Afro-Latino (Tristan Wilds) doesn’t make it “new.”

I come home last night and she's entrenched in 90210 which luckily had a two-hour series premiere. Oh joy! The night before she was watching GG and this past weekend The Hills were whoring it up on MTV. Aside from the fact that these shows perpetuate the power of the almighty dollar they are all three the same exact program. They all feature privileged trust fund kids who bang at will and fall ass backwards into great jobs. Alas, the wife will continue to watch her favorite shows; just don’t bother me while I watch my Diddy TV. Hey, I did say my brain was rotting also. What are some of your guilty pleasure shows?

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, September 1, 2008

Are you a good son/daughter to your parents?



How can you know you're a good son? Ever since my dad suffered a stroke a couple of years ago I've asked myself this question over and over again. The stroke completely transformed my pop from an independent street smart guy to a senior citizen in a wheelchair. He can talk clearly for the most part but he needs help to walk. The first year I was there every day living with my folks; so I washed him, attempted to do his therapeutic exercises (which he hated and lashed out at me) with him and helped him walk from room to room. Today on Labor Day (which he always used to work on) I went to see him. I initially wanted to take him out around the way. Did I? No. The image of his weakened legs giving out and falling crept in my head. Additionally the fake ass peeps who come up to him and say, "I haven't seen you in forever!" He hasn't moved dbag. Idiots!

Even though I didn't take him out I told my wife I did. I lied to make myself feel better as she accurately put it. Even though I do contribute monetarily to my parents, I know money is ish compared to quality time. I feel like another reason I don't take him out often is because I don't want random people to feel pity or gawk at him. He's not the first or the last to suffer a stroke. It sounds like selfish reasons but I guess deep down inside I still see my dad as the rugged man who would knock the taste out of anyone's mouth. I know a lil’ of that man still exists when I kiss him on his forehead and he squeezes my back. But the query still remains, am I a good son? I think I am I just need to put in more effort.

Uno,

Jesus

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Mrs. Fat Joe > Fat Joe


So Fat Joe recently celebrated his 38th born day with his wife or wifey (I don’t think they ever married) in NYC. All I could think when I saw the pics was, “Damn, Joey lucked out.” I’m pretty sure he snatched Lorena before he was a rapper or definitely before his rap career became profitable. I’m not saying she’s a model Latina but this colombiana is definitely a looker. And while we’re talking about wives: Mrs. Fat Joe > Mrs. Big Pun.

My homie Carl said she looks like a “slut bag” but I’m pretty sure Joey sticks his Pillsbury dough, pause, into plenty of groupies. But that’s not the point. The point is Joey like Chris Rock hooked up with the first good looking woman that would give them play and never looked back. Probably because they wanted a safety net just in case they didn’t make it. What other celebs have married a better-looking wife? You tell me.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

John McCain Yanks El Cangri’s Vote



Has Daddy Yankee forgotten what it is to be a poor kid in Puerto Rico? Probably. The riches from his mega hit “Gasolina” have finally spoiled his mind . . . and his music (you heard his awful “Pose”). Now El Cangri is vouching for Republican presidential candidate John “War! It’s Good For Everything” McCain.

"We talked about boxing, we're both boxing fanatics," he revealed to Latina.com. He continued: "He said, 'Yankee, I was a soldier. And I saw people die next to me, Latinos who never got their citizenship but who were willing to die for this country. I saw a Hernandez, I saw a Rodriguez, how they killed them.' And that broke my heart hearing that. And I went, man, this guy lived it. He’s not just going, 'hey I want your vote.' He lived it."

And he wants more of our young people to die. I for one am not keen on politicians or the boys in blue for that matter but unless you’re a rich Cuban why would you back the Republican nominee? Lesser of two evils, Yankee. Yes, McCain has been supportive of The DREAM Act but that was then and now he doesn’t even want to answer a survey about Latinos. Just because he didn’t talk to you like you were an idiot doesn’t mean he has your gente’s interests in mind. Smarten up, Yankee.

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, August 25, 2008

Latina Mom Groupies, TKA & Freestyle Music



I have a dirty little secret: I love freestyle. Not freestyle where MCs spit off the dome but the type of music that guidos know all the words to. Blame my sisters for buying those vinyl records in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s—TKA, George Lamond, and a bunch of other brown folk. Fortunately for me the wife works for KTU, the only NY radio station that still plays freestyle. This past Saturday we attended Beatstock, think Hot 97's Summer Jam minus weed smoke plus spiky hair. The headliners were Danity Kane and Pussycat Dolls. Kane hit the stage minus the slutty one and came off rushed but PSD definitely upstaged Diddy's experiment. Oddly enough the freestyle acts closed the show; probably because they were paid in platanos (side note: they're 3 for a dollar now!). First up was Coro and his trio of dancers, who I'm convinced were his wife, son and brother.

Up to this point it was a predominantly Italian American affair but once the first visible beaner (DK’s Aundrea isn’t repping hard) hit the stage a Puerto Rican flag popped out of nowhere. Attached to it was a middle-aged boricua lady with a beer in hand and a nice Lemon Tree haircut. Then came Cynthia (“Change on Me”) and Cindy Martinez, who we referred to as Saggy Martinez because her titties were high-fiving her knees. After these scallywags came two of the few freestyle acts who had talent—Lamond and TKA. Lamond, who doesn't look a day over 30, belted out “Look Into My Eyes,” “Where Does That Leave Love,” etc. Aside from his intro, where they reminded everyone that he was signed to Columbia (tear) his set was on point. TKA took over the crowd with their infectious hits: “One Way Love,” “Maria,” and more. K7, their lead singer, still has killer chops and has also aged well, pause. All the while I was thinking do these guys still get groupies? They must because they got “oohhs” and “ahhhs” every time they moved their packages, pause. Come to think of it some well-aged Latina mom ass should be better than a groupie at a hair metal contest. Here's the wrap-up: dope concert, great memories, long live freestyle.

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, August 22, 2008

The Game’s Spanish > Prodigy’s Spanish



Back when the media hyped “Latin Boom” was going down in the late ‘90s, many a rapper would sprinkle their rhymes with Spanish words and even diddled Latina mujeres (I see you Diddy). For the most part, they just came off cornier than tortillas. Now in 2008 I’ve heard one good Spanish-inspired rap track and a bad one by non-Latino MCs.

The first one was Prodigy’s “ABC”; granted it was done by a machine which it creepy in itself and overall wack. The other one I heard today courtesy of my homie J-Rod. He posted “Spanglish,” a bonus track off of The Game’s LAX. Game actually does a great job repping for Latinos, albeit, Mexicans because he is from L.A. and La Raza is king over there. He drops Spanish slang used mainly by gang bangers mejicanos like the cats in American Me. Game’s song doesn’t come off as a weak attempt to garner a Latino audience because he’s been down with us for a minute. Last year he co-signed the West Coast’s Latino rap hope, Omar Cruz, who I’ve been staunch supporter as well. So cheers to The Game for showing that black and brown can come together. Now if only Obama would take a page from Chappelle’s book and select a Latino vice president. “Siiiiiiiiiii!”

Uno,

Jesus

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Tall Guys vs. Short Guys (Pause)



The other night the wife and I were watching a 20/20 special about the top 10 sexual myths. The usual topics were covered like, Do women prefer a large dong? Pause. If you were wondering it's yes fellas; and the wider your tool, pause, the bigger the Kool Aid smile on your girl. All that aside the one myth that hit home was the height factor.

I've never had a problem with my stature. Maybe back in junior high when the first girl to develop chesticles was taller than me shot me down for a date. But that was it. Yva was squirming around during the segment saying, "I love your height." Yeah, OK and I love shopping for dresses with you. She loves me, yes, but I'm the opposite of who she used to date. She told me she used to date guys who were 5"11 and up, car owners, and were gangbanging douchbags. I kid of course about her only dating car owners. Either way I was the shortest guy she ever dated. Lucky for her I always dated girls with plump bottoms. Real lucky. Have you ladies ever dated a short dude?

Uno,

Jesus

I Bought My First New Rap Album In 4 Years…



One of the best perks of being a rap mag editor was getting all the hot new music for free. They came in bunches especially when I sparked up deals with label cats; they would send me CDs and I would send them mags. But once I got jaded with the state of music, specifically rap, all the free ish just started collecting dust. Now, being an editor of a Latino site I can still hit up my contacts for free CDs but I rarely do. Or I could ask one of my homies to burn me a copy. But I don’t anymore.

But today, for the first time in four years, I bought a new rap album. I say new because I have splurged on CDs from the early ‘90s like Red’s first album. I went to Borders and picked up Ice Cube’s Raw Footage. Why would I pick up an album by a family flick actor? Well, because he’s still muhfucking nasty and he's also responsible for birthing this gangsta rap shit. Cube, and many of my compadres will agree, is rapping with a purpose like he's still jackin for beats. While paying for my Cube album I also donated a book for the NYC Public School system. How often can you say I bought a gangsta rap album and donated a book to a public school? Exactly.

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, August 18, 2008

“You only made eggs for yourself?” Yep!


Once you get married you become a union...you're one...and all that crap. Meaning if you're unselfish as a single guy then you'll become a bit more self-centered with a wedding band on. If you're selfish to begin with well you'll just be reminded by your wife...over and over again.

Case in point: I get up a bit early today to make some egg whites on wheat toast (trying to get my healthy eating on). We usually don't make breakfast during the work week but I was planning to do so because we bought eggs at BJs, pause, and because well you gotta save nowadays. I told her the night before, “Do you me to make you breakfast?” She said, "No, I’ll probably be out of here by then." Cool. I get up and go straight to cooking and say hello to the wife. I was moving hastily because I had to leave for work. Once I’m in the bathroom, I hear Yva from the kitchen yelling, “You only made eggs for yourself!" Yes, dear because in my half asleep body I had two things on my mind: cook my breakfast and wash my ass. She said something else but by that time she started sounding like Charlie Brown's teacher. Oh, and in case you haven't heard I'm selfish.

Uno,

Jesus

Say It Ain’t So Uncle Ralph!


This weekend reminded that I’m a lounge-type of dude nowadays. It’s not a married dude thang it’s more of a state-of-mind thang. Saturday night the wife and a few friends went to Hawaiian Tropic Zone in Times Square. We waited outside for a couple…far too long for my taste and once we were in we went straight to the bar. The crowd was mixed but in a bad way—there wasn’t a definitive flavor. You had posers, players, drug dealers and hoochies all around but with no possible flow.

My frown was turned upside down once I saw who was DJing. Ralph McDaniels! The Video Music Box OG—Ralph “I directed some dope ass Wu Tang videos” McDaniels. He was spinning some current joints (ie: Weezy) which had the crowd amp. The set was going live but it turned sour quick. First he freezes after a song. No music! I’m assuming it doesn’t happen often since he is an NYC legend so I gave him a pass. But the next offense was just corny. After a Wayne set he puts on Elvis Crespo’s “Suavemente.” He might as well just put Gerardo’s “Rico Suave.” The crowd looks baffled and so do I. The only ones dancing were the WPs with their Asian gfs. On this night Uncle Ralph truly came off like your uncle—old and corny.

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

(Some of) Spain Shows Its True Colors



Have you heard the one where the Spanish national basketball team makes “slanted eyes” for a flick? No? Well, it’s not that funny. We as Americans, yes, are a tad more PC than the rest of the world but some actions are indefensible. The shot above was an ad sponsored by Spanish courier company, Seur and ironically enough also by Chinese company Li-Ning Footwear to appear in Marca, a Spanish mag. As a Latino AKA of mixed Spanish and Indian blood I understand how La Madre Patria can be. Dating back to when they conquered AKA raped mi gente’s (Incas) land, Spaniards have always looked down on Latin Americans.

I’m sure most Spaniards are not racist but this pic only reinforces that stereotype. “No eres de sangre pura (You’re not of pure [Spanish] blood),” they would say. That’s why as much as Spain is a cosmetically beautiful country I have no intention of ever visiting. That’s why when they lump Antonio Banderas, Penelope Cruz and even the great Javier Bardem into Latino Hollywood I ain’t claiming them. They’re Spaniards, Europeans and Hispanics meaning from the Iberian Peninsula (Spain & Portugal) not meaning the U.S. government label placed upon us.

Here’s a response from one of the Spanish team’s ballers, Jose Calderon, who also plays for the Toronto Raptors.

“We did it because we thought it was going to be something nice, something with no problem,” Calderon told Yahoo! Sports. “But somebody wants to talk about it. It is too much of a big deal with you guys (the media) and everybody talking about that.”

SMH. Yep, I guess it was the media back in the 1500s that spawned the villainous image of the gold-grubbing, raping Spanish conquistador. Oh no, wait, that was history.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

“And she loves to show me off, of course / Smiles every time my ‘byline’ is up in The Source”



Like every hip-hop journalist before me along with some of my contemporaries, one of my wishes was to get a byline in The Source. This is before it became more like a badly-run record label than our Rolling Stone. Along with Slam, The Source was one of the only places I could see bylines with Latino surnames like Rodriguez. So in 2004, once Adam Matthews introduced me to Jerry L. Barrow, one of the last fine editors from The Source, it was on. JB can attest; I hounded him every week until he gave me an assignment. Our phone convos would go like this: “Heeey, Jesus,” he would say. “Hey Jerry, how have you been? How’s the family?,” I would ask. Mind you, I didn’t even know his fam at that point.

In either case, I called so much that he finally decided to give an assignment. It was a “Microphone Check” on F.A.T.S., Rodney Jerkins’ artist who never dropped an album. I eventually received a kill fee because the piece didn’t run but I eventually did get my Source byline. It may sound corny or insane now but it was one of the proudest moments in my life. Not only did I get my name is my book but a first name like “Jesus” I’m sure I inspired other Latino kids to grab their pen and pad. Why did I drop this story now? Well, because the rejuvenated Source dropped their 20th anniversary issues this week with Nas and LL Cool J on separate covers. Covers shot by BK’s own Spike Lee. So for the first time in years I’m gonna cop The Source to save it with the rest of my mags. Now if they could only figure out a way to pay some of peeps for their work.

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, August 8, 2008

New Beat Heat: Damu The Fudgemunk


Damu The Fudgemunk - Soul Brother Number 3 - Damu's 3 a.m. Freestyle from j. nota on Vimeo.

In a past life I used to be a rap mag editor. Specifically to a tome that focused on producers and DJs. So I greet any new beats with open ears. Such is the case for Damu the Fudgemunk. The kid’s got crazy game behind the boards. My homeboy John (fellow one-time RPMer) is working with Damu and is doing great things. Don’t believe me, just ask Marley Marl.

"Very refreshing to hear a young cat with that much soul." - Marley Marl

Damu, a D.C. native, has dropped another dope beat collection, Overtime. I talked to the mellow brudda and duke has got beat for years…he ain’t running out. Plus, the best part in our recession daze, you can get it for free. Free! Go below to get it!

Uno,

Jesus

Download Overtime

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Pitbull Finally Spits Some Political Ish



So now that Pit is a free agent it seems like he’s finally rapping about more than culo. Don’t get me wrong culo is a great topic but there are more important things in life than a piece of tail. In hindsight, this is the single that should have been on the politically-titled (but not really) El Mariel. In either case, good job Pit. Below is his statement on the video.

"It’s unfortunate that I have to cut a record telling the truth, at least in my opinion, about my own country and the corrupt ways it is being ran,” says Pitbull. “However, on that note I want to let all the soldiers representing our country know, thank you for protecting us and may God bless you all."

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Kanye West Is The Best Live MC



Let me preface the following post with this tidbit: so far this year I’ve attended a Jay-Z concert and a Nas concert. They both need to step their concert game up. Kanye West, hate him or love him, puts on a great show. I went to his Glow in the Dark tour last night at Madison Square Garden and dude blew, pause, me away. The joint started out with a good set by fellow G.O.O.D. Music MC, Consequence which was followed by Lupe Fiasco.

Sporting an all black ensemble he went through his bangers “Kick, Push,” “Hip-Hop Saved My Life,” and “Go Go Gadget Flow.” Lu is mad animated jumping up and down while his guitarist does his best Eddie Van Halen impersonation and plays his instrument with his teeth. As he brings out Mathew Santos to perform “Streets On Fire,” I notice Farnsworth Bentley next to us with a plain Jane melanin deprived mujer. (Take note: If you want to go from a G to a Gent follow Bent’s example). While Lupe concludes his set with “Superstar” I notice one thing—over half the crowd looks like the Swedish Olympic team. The other half were full of “artists” from Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

Next up: N.E.R.D. I’ve never been a huge fan but after their performance I’m intrigued to check their new joint out. With a psychedelic background Pharrell goes through his rock-inspired joints off of Seeing Sounds, along with old songs like “Rock Star,” and “Lapdance.” In one instance Lupe comes back on stage and starts dancing during their set. Towards the end Pha starts grinding with the models on stage. Set done…waiting for Ye.

The Chi MC opens his set with a space theme. His spaceship “Jane” crashes and Ye goes into “Good Morning.” Duke is wearing a cross between Mad Max garb and a medieval knight armor along with his beard, which is thicker, pause, than usual. After performing “Heard’em Say,” Jane says, “Remember this is not your first crash.” Ye blasts into “Through The Wire,” does an incredible chopped and screwed version of “Get’Em High,” “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” while the crowd throws up the Roc. Playing along with his theme, a dinosaur comes out and swallows, pause, Ye. He comes out in a few and goes into “Can’t Tell Me Nothing,” “Flashing Lights,” “Spaceship,” and “All Falls Down.” He turns his attention to Jane and tells her, “I need some p***y.” Which Jane responds, “I can help you out with that.” A cyber image of a King Mag model appears and he performs “Gold Digger.” He wraps up the night with “Jesus Walks” (along with “Jesus Walks” dance), “Hey Mama,” plays a Journey song to play up to his “diverse” crowd, “Stronger and during his encore “Homecoming.” All in all Ye puts on a phenomenal show. He’s taken a page from KRS and dare I say it Hammer to make his stage show one of the best in music period. Jay and Nas got nothing on Ye’s live steez. Nothing.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

De La Soul Will Snuff You

So if “hipster rappers” are so “hipster” why are they getting arrested? Just recently Naledge and Double O were in some deep caca out in Arizona. O got his ass beat by a bunch of bitch ass bodyguards and Naledge got arrested trying to defend his boy or something like that. Whichever the case the label they have as “hipsters” is false. Just because they dress a certain way and real hipsters (ya know the ones that live in Williamsburg and soap is their Kryptonite) love their tunes. It’s a case of that pesky labeling us journalists like to do.

Some of the gulliest MCs have been so-called positive rappers. Go ahead, I dare you to step to any of those De La Soul dudes. They’d lose their “Buddy” demeanor at the drop of a hat. At the end of the day a man is just a man—if provoked he will defend himself. Even Latinos have been victims of labeling by the media and government. “Latino” is better than “Hispanic” but is it really identifying all of us. I don’t think so.

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, August 4, 2008

Joey, Vito, Enzo and Them



I used to go to high school with dudes like in the clip above. I also dated girls like this in high school. Guidos and guidettes are to Italian Americans as spics are to Latinos—an embarrassment. It was a specimen like the one above that called me a spic for the first time in my life during freshman year in high school. I didn’t know what it was exactly but it didn’t feel right. Here’s the scene: I’m sitting below my locker waiting for my next class. Two lames come by and start talking loudly enough for me to hear them. One of them blurts out “spic” but I didn’t pay any attention. Mind you I’m at a predominantly white Catholic high school by way of a scholarship. He continues, “This spic’s mom is probably cleaning my house right now.”

I get up and we start throwing verbal attacks back and forth. I then get my Latrell Sprewell on and start choking dude and he does the same until we get split up. I’ll never forget it. So now guidos don’t bother me as much because well, fortunately, most of them get jobs as DJs for Sweet Sixteens or tanning salons. Everything happens for a reason. Someone was going to use the S-Word one time or another it just so happens I was 14 the first time. When was the first time you were called a racial slur?

Uno,

Jesus

I Used To Love Them

What a difference a ring (and some years) makes? Back when I was 18 I remember loving the summer for one big reason: short shorts. The girls of Sunset Park, BK, aka hoodrats used rock'em throughout the three hot months. They would come in a variety of designs but they all had one thing in common: they were shorter than Bridget the Midget (too much Howard Stern). I would put the sunglasses on and check'em out and at times kick my 18-year-old game to them. It didn't matter if they had ass for days or pancake butt; a short short would make it seem like they had a dope bubble. Also, in these instances a wedgie is the best thing that could happen.

Today it's much different. If I do look at these girls it's in a completely different light. A feeling of sadness—like this is all they aspire to being eye candy for dudes. Mind you some of the girls that I checked for back in the day are still busting out their shorts in June. Only now they're mothers and not the milfy kind. I saw this 14-year-old yesterday rocking shorts so tight it made her legs red with grown ass men hollering. She reveled in the attention. Now I know I might get some slack from some of y’all. But there’s a time and place for any type of garb. In the bedroom, for a King Magazine shoot (I see you Sean) or if you’re a Brazilian supermodel. But imagine your girl walking around in some tight short shorts getting hit on by lames. Not a good look. Having nieces and especially wife now all I could do is a feel sorry for her. The only way she thinks a woman can be sexy is by showing off the goods. Cue “Sally’s Got A One Track Mind.”

Uno,

Jesus

Ride With Me

Last week the J-O had a launch party for their new show Model Latina. Needless to say some peeps got f-ed up with the open bar. One person was the wife. She eventually hurled chunks and that was that. But an even more surprising event occurred that night. Check it: it's me, Teji, Yaneth, Dee and her inebriated sis. While she usually does the driving I was up to the plate. I’ve never driven from Manhattan to any of the boroughs . . . until now.

We parked in a tight, pause, spot so I told Teji, the only other sober one, “Yo can you pull out?” Pause. She got Queensbridge on me and said, “Nah, yo. Man up. You can do it." I shriveled, pause, up a bit; she should have finished the job and bitch slap and given me an atomic wedgie. Aight. I managed to pull out, pause, with her help. Started driving and I was doing well. Until Drunkie McGee starts, "I'm so proud of you. You've never driven from the city." Blah, blah. I made it to the Q in one piece and I got the driving bug now. Let me ride (word to Dre)!

Uno,

Jesus

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Guess What? Joell Ortiz Really Likes Rap Music



Joell Ortiz. I’ve been an avid supporter of duke for many reasons. Mainly three: he’s an ill MC who happens to be Latino from Brooklyn, NY. It doesn’t get better than that. He recently posted the new LL video (“Baby”) on his site and had a lil’ story to tell. He actually makes a cameo in it and was genuinely appreciative to LL for making it happen. Which leads me to point: we as music journalists sometimes hate on MCs for being fans of each other…a Stan as it may. But shoot at one time or another you were probably an LL fan too.

I know hearing The Game namedrop N.W.A. for the millionth time can be annoying but the brother is genuinely a die-hard fan. Who else would tattoo a group’s name on their body without them being part of said group? So when I see Joell act like a regular person would it makes me like, pause, him more. I really hope he gets more shine so more MCs can become J.O. fan.

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, July 28, 2008

Conventions With Fulvio (Pause)

Aside from promoting the J-O at UNITY (the largest journalist conference in the U.S.) I also got a chance to chill with one of my good peeps from outside the Big Apple—Fulvio . The homie works for one of the big newspapers on the East coast and is always down to crack a joke or 20. He came, pause, in using “no homo” but by the end he was using “pause” for everything. (That’s right Carl, we’re infecting, pause, everyone). We hit up the job conference to network. First we stopped at a university booth. Sporting our dorky nametags the college rep tells Fulvio, “Oh you’re from the Korant!” SMH. Oh, I forgot to mention duke is not only from a university but a “School of Journalism and Mass Communication.” SMH. Fulvio corrects him and we proceed to crack jokes.

On to the NAHJ banquet where they honored my former college prof Juan Gonzalez. We stayed in the back because as expected we were going to act like junior high schoolers. In our defense the banquet was handled horribly. The invite read from 7PM to 10PM but it ran until almost midnight. Even by CPT standards that’s unacceptable. If felt like The Source was running this banquet not NAHJ; plus by the end of it I wanted to stab someone. They honor the first person around 7PM then there was an hour-long gap. When they begin to honor the rest it feels like I’m in a boring history class in eighth grade. In between some dude comes to our table; a friend of a friend. The guy speaks exactly like Christian Bale in American Psycho and he seems to be as much as a sellout as Bale was in it. By the time Juan Gone is honored more than half the attendees have left. I was laughing my ass off because it was the only way I could stop from crying. I got love, pause, for Juan Gone pero coño.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Driving Down The Block In A New Car!

I'm not a car guy. Matter of fact the main reason I got my driver's license (at 26) was to get my wife off my back. You see she's been driving since ‘99 and I've been on the R train since ‘89. I still haven't conquered the highway yet but I will. I say all this because this past Saturday I became a car owner, well, co-owner. My wife's Ford Escort was busted like Eliot Spitzer. Even though Betty (the old car’s name) got us from A to B she had no air conditioner, oil stains and was just an old hag at this point.

So Saturday we went to a WKTU (my wife’s 9-5) client and got somewhat of a deal, as much as you can get from a car salesman. After an hour we settled on a Nissan Altima 2008. Several hours later we were signing papers for the hundredth time. Every time Leo, this funny hairy (not a stereotype, he looked like he was wearing wool sweater) Italian, would say something it sounded he was inventing words on the spot. Again we got a decent deal but I couldn’t help but feel like Beecher from Oz, pause. BTW We named the new car Miles because the color is dark blue. Do any of y’all have any car dealership stories?

Uno,

Jesus

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Tall, Blonde And Not Latino



So the sis-in-law met Andre 3000 the other day in a NY minute. He was tryin to bag but with a lil’ hesitation she said there was Mr. Dee in her life. I was a bit surprised because she's more of Common Sense girl. Anyway it got me thinking on the top five women that my wife would give me a ‘get out of jail free’ card. Here goes: Salma Hayek, Iris Chacon (in her heyday), Beyoncè (Fuck Jay-Z), Scarlett Johansson (Fuck Ryan Reynolds), and Jessica Alba (Fuck Cash).


She only has a top three and they are David Beckham, Paul Walker (dude from Fast & Furious), and Daddy Yankee. You guys see a trend here. Two out of three of her picks are tall, white and blonde yet she married a short, stout Latino. Three out of five of my picks are Latinas and my wife's assets could rival Iris’ any day. Good thing I make her laugh and that she thinks Beckham’s voice is atrocious. BTW: If you have Iris’ number tell her to holla! I just wanna say 'hola.' Who’s in your top five?

Uno,

Jesus

Straight From 1994

The homie John Nota hooked me up with a lovely collection of the best rap singles from ‘89 to ‘99. Grand Puba, Tribe, Chi Ali, Naughty by Nature, Slick Rick...basically all the joints I had on cassette when hip-hop was in the middle of sweeping me off my feet, pause, just in case. Along with this great collection I also paid the 11 bucks to see The Wackness, whose soundtrack is ‘94 to the core, last week.

All these back in my day tracks makes me remember when I was a rebellious lil’ scumbag tagging "Gee Cue" (yes I stole it from Omar Epps), defying my parents and smoking cheeba like my fave MCs. This one time some herb (remember that term) wanted to be down with our crew. So we broke up a cig, took the tobacco and placed it in a Phillie. Duke smoked it and began swerving on his bicycle. He even crashed into a wall. What a douche? But shoot we were all immature, awkward and trying to be down.

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

You’re Not Preggers? Great!


Coming home from the Nas concert (damn, HD is right. Duke is stationary on stage.) last night my wife called me and told me that she wasn't pregnant. I did one of those freeze frame jumps; you know the way every ‘80s sitcom ended. You see, the wife was feeling sick the last couple of days, throwing up and such. I’d be lying if I said I wasn't shaking in my mandals.

Not that I'm not ready for a baby because no one is...you learn on the job. If she was it would be a blessing from Dios and I would have successfully avoided that pesky minority having kids out of wedlock stereotype. I rather just wait a bit. My two lil’ nieces suffice not to mention Madison's upcoming punching bag aka her unborn sibling. So when the time comes I'll get my Heathcliff Huxtable on and be the best papi I can be. That's papi as in father not papi as ‘Ay papi!’

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

The Tardy Sisters: Never On Time

I told y'all my wife and sis-in-law are the Tardy Sisters. Well, for those who haven't met the Pantoja twosome just look up the definition for CPT². You see Colored People Time isn't enough to describe how late they are...it's like an art with them. Time is their dirty bitch and they do whatever they want with it.

My wife was an hour late to our wedding and if she can she'll be late when lil' junior is born. She purposely made her car clock 15 minutes fast so she can always think she’s running late and arrive to her appointments on time. Oh and Dee, the homegirl and lateness have a torrid love affair. She treats time like an ignored stepchild that she smacks the shit out of when she does pay attention. In either case I’ve gotten used to my wife’s lateness and she’s gotten a lil’ more punctual due to my influence. The lateness only affects me when we have to do something with my fam or friends. If it’s her peeps she can change outfits as much as she wants because I’m not to blame. What’s one of your significant other’s flaws?

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

A Shot Of Henny For Marriage


Going into the homie's Felix birthday party on Saturday I didn't expect to get some good advice. I expected to do some Henny (only for the bday boy). As I went for a cigarette break (again only socially) with Felix and an older gent (pause) we started talking about marriage.

The old fella dropped a crazy gem. This is what he roughly said: "As the man you don't have to wear the pants nor does she have to. It's about compromise; share the pants. Also, try to avoid heavy arguments and above all keep your wife laughing. I always kept her laughing. My wife died last year after 40 years of marriage. It took her to pass away for me to realize how much I loved her. I try to make it to the cemetery every day but I can't." Whoa. We then went inside to do three shots of Henny. That one was for marriage. OK, no more mushy posts for awhile.

Uno,

Jesus

“Fuck you, you fuckin’ GPS!”


This past weekend I celebrated the cuzzo’s (Teji) birthday. The night started off in LES, then at Columbus Circle then back to LES. Initially it seemed like it was going to one of the rare misses I have with my friends. Thankfully lots of liquor and early ‘90s hip-hop saved the night. Not that I got drunk or even buzzed but I find it more entertaining when others down a shot or 30. Case in point—Yoli! The homegirl can hold her liquor! One of the delights of seeing an inebriated Yoli is the amount of expletives this girl can say in a sentence. Remember how Jay-Z used to rap when he rolled with Original Flavor…well double that.

We’re on the ride back to Queens dropping off the peeps. First up Carl, who lives in some part of the Q, which Yoli refers to as “Where the fuck do you live, man?” She then starts to cuss out the GPS. “Fuck you, you fuckin GPS. They should fuck you in the ass you fuckin GPS!” OMG. It was gold I tell ya. She excuses herself for “sounding like an immigrant” when she stumbles on some words and starts singing a racy version of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.” So this post is dedicated to our homegirl Yoli. You’re a riot!

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, June 27, 2008

A Hip-Hop Love Story


This is a post about love. The wife and I made it pass the first year of marriage. It’s crazy how the older you get the faster those minutes tick. June 30th marks my first year as a married man so I find it fitting to tell y’all (most of you already know) how I met her. Like a lot of things in my life it’s straight hip-hop; sorta like Brown Sugar but without the fancy ass looking XXL office. Harris is straight gully. Ask anyone.

I digress. It was February 2004 and I was about to become Scratch Magazine’s founding associate editor. I was working on a feature on DJ Enuff and was hanging with him for the day. We met up at Hot 97, where I waited in the lobby. There I met Yva. She had a baseball cap on (she doesn’t wear them often) and studying hip-hop. WTF? She was there to become Angie Martinez’s apprentice. But my only question is who studies hip-hop? You either live it or you don’t. In either case, we exchanged info but I didn’t flirt because I was involved, etc. Fast forward to August 2004, I was chilling at a Scratch-sponsored Roots concert with my peeps Carl, Bain, Angel, and Omar. As I was getting buzzed some chick comes up to me and says, “Are you Jesus? Jesus Trivino?” I say, “Yes. Can you step into the light?” Yes, I said that. I wanted to see what I was dealing with and luckily enough I was dealing with some goodness. We again exchanged info and I took her to Asia de Cuba (thanks for the recommendation Tony G.) for our first date, movies the second and then she was off on vacay to Venezuela. What?! Yes, our chemistry was crazy and then she bounces. But we were both extremely hooked. She was gone for two weeks but every night she was in S.A. I bought a phone card and spent two, three hours on the phone with her. We pretty much fell in love over the phone. It sounds like a nice telenovela without the drama and light skinned Latins. So this post is for the belief in love, actual love and of course my Bonita Applebum . . . thanks for putting me on. Happy anniversary, te amo.

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, June 20, 2008

If I Was Wearing My Khufi . . .


I was a lot more suspect (read racist) of WP back in college. It must’ve been the khufi I rocked or the tons of underground rap music I consumed. But once I graduated and got a job I let go of most of my angry minority tendencies. How else can you advance in this world? Not everyone is out to get you. One of those tendencies was assuming most WP were racist. Two situations arose this week that made me wanna pull out my khufi again.

The first was at the gym with Carl (pause just in case). A WP was on the cross trainer he signed up for; dude was extremely dismissive of him and the rules. He was probably thinking I’m on this now and you will get on when I’m done . . . negro. The second happened today while I was in line getting some pacifiers for my one-year-old niece (Maddy the Bully). This white chick is behind me and says, “Excuse me.” I move she gets a Snapple. I’m about to pay for the pacifier as she says, “Excuse me again.” I move no prob; didn’t think anything of it. She starts putting her items on the counter. She again says, “Excuse me!” I turn around to say, “I already moved.” She says, “I said it once; learn it!” WTF. I say, “Be easy! This line is everyone not just you your highness.” The cashier and her co-worker starting murmuring, “Snuff that bitch.” Of course, I’m not going to snuff a woman but if I was rocking a khufi and 22 I would have said, “Fuck is your problem, [insert Too $hort’s favorite word]!” Was this two instances of WP getting on some ‘white privilege’ ish or was it just two cases of assholes? What do you think?

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, June 16, 2008

My Niece Eats Ice Cubes



When I head over to BK my older sister, Narcisa, sometimes drives me to the F train. She’s usually accompanied by her hubby, Willie and my H.N.I.C. (Head Niece In Charge), Alyssa. In the 10-minute ride to the F train, Aly and I catch up; well she takes the lead I just listen. The precocious 7-year-old tells me about her school friends, her Dora video game and anything else these young’uns are into these days.

Last week my sister for the first time ever lost her blanquita mom tactics (time out?) and gave her a spanking. I asked Aly in the car, “I heard you got spanked.” She said, “Yes, I did.” “What happened?,” I asked. “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she said. Yesterday, she begins to tell me, “I ate ice cubes yesterday, then I drank some ice water and then some more ice cubes.” Fascinating! Her mom turns around and says, “Why does Aly always tell Jesus stories he doesn’t want to hear?” When the fact is that I love those stories. When she’s 16 and thinks I’m not cool anymore I’d love to hear a story about ice cubes rather than some punk she’s dating. Plus, if I’m lucky I get to see Aly once a week now so she can eat all the ice cubes she wants. Is there anyone you would like to see more often?

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, June 9, 2008

The S-Word



While most minorities are elated that Barack is officially the Democratic nominee, this weekend proved to me that we still have a long way to go as far as race issues. Friday night the wife and I went to see Patriotic Bitch, the one-woman show by Allana Ubach. You've seen her before in flicks like Meet the Fockers, Legally Blonde, etc. She isn't the most Latina-looking of the bunch but the half-bori/half-mejicana definitely reps to the fullest. The show revolved around Yolanda, an immigrant who lost her sister to the American fast life of flash, money and drugs. Throughout the play her impersonations of different ethnic women was superb. Towards the end of the play her Jewish character blurts out "spic" in reference to Yolanda. I haven't heard the word said so viciously since I first heard it in 1993.

Then on Saturday, taking the train from BK, an old black man sits next to me. He starts yelling about how women want to get some d**k, fat women who wear wigs and how all women, even your momma, get old. OK, I act like the NYer that I am and ignore him. Then he says, "You know what's wrong with Puerto Ricans and spics..." For the sake of my well-being I got up and sat next to a little Asian lady. I K.I.M.ed (kept it moving) because he was probably crazy and I also remembered that according to the book of Chris Rock old black men are the most racist people. But hearing "spic" on back-to-back nights was too much. Hey CR, old Latino men are right behind them, pause.

PS: If you're Latino you need to go see Patriotic Bitch.

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, June 2, 2008

You're Doing A Shot With Me!

The wife she’s pretty good to me. She threw a nice lil’ soiree for my bday this past Saturday at the Dream Hotel. She decided to do a game night, which is what adults do according to our friend Adri. The night started out with Omar dropping by at 8:45PM, the party started at 9PM. He then proceeded to drop more N-words than any gangsta rapper; I love you for being you O, pause. Then some more people dropped by and started playing Buzz, a trivia game for the PS3. At this point we had about 14 peeps. Then around 11:30PM those 14 left and like 40 people came in. Suite was packed…drinks were being downed and sweat was trickling down everyone’s ass cheeks.

Once karaoke starts, we get a knock at the door. It’s this obnoxious, long-haired douche and the security manager telling me that I’m only allowed four people per room. Turns out the douche was the manager of the bar atop Dream and had nothing to due with the hotel. He claimed that my guests were sneaking into his bar. WTF? The party continued but some peeps bounced due to the mini-drama and my sisters got all motherly on me. It’s now around 1AM and there’s only 12 people left from the 40. At this point HDilla says, “Yo, are you even drunk?” I said, “No, good sir!” I then proceeded to down shots of Tequila, Vodka, Rum and the rest is kinda blurry. I must say I thoroughly enjoy getting others drunk; my pops used to do it and I’m keeping the tradition alive. I remember dropping the N-word, must’ve been from talking to O, telling my wife’s co-worker, Augenie, that since her name is Frias she should fry that shit, made Felix (my sis-in-law beau) blush due to my gay comments MAJOR PAUSE, fell on my ass twice (I have the black and blues to prove it), sweating uncontrollably and hurled chunks in the bathroom sink and trash can. And that my friends, is why I drink cranberry and seltzer at industry events.

PS: Sam Ed you’re a beast with the liquor.

Shout out to everyone who made it out: Jay, Chris, Scott, Kim, Nav, Lizz, Teji, Yoli, Naña, Mark, M. Ceezy, Bain, Hyun, Yan, Joel, J-Rod and everyone else!

Uno,

Jesús