Tuesday, November 17, 2009

My Top 5 Latino Guilty Pleasures


Anyone who knows me knows I'm one damn proud Latino. How proud am I you ask? I'm so proud I even have a couple of Latino guilty pleasures. See below.

5. I enjoy watching Spanish language TV. Yes, it's cheesier than Fat Joe on a hot summer day but it's so over the top it's hard not to tune in. Overdramatic Latinos, bourgeois Latinos, poor Latinos, sex, cougars…it’s all there.

4. I think Vicks Vapor Rub can cure anything. You have a cold? Put it on your chest. You have a pimple? Put some on it. Vapor Rub is to Latinos as Robitussin is to African Americans.

3. I bless myself everyday as I leave my house. I also get one from ma’ dukes everyday via phone.

2. I sometimes blast merengue music in my car. Just to let people hear how Latino I am.

1. And the number one Latino guilty pleasure is (drum roll please): I buy Walter Mercado's year end magazine as soon as it drops. Seriously! If you've ever seen it, he basically gives predictions for the following year and as a somewhat superstitious Latino I need to know.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Wilmer Valderrama Stays Greasy


I love over-the-top reggaeton videos! Wisin y Yandel, arguably the largest artists of the genre, released a video for “Imagínate.” It features T-Pain, ageless Colombian hottie Paula Garces, Amaury Nolasco, and (it gets better) the greasiest mofo in Hollywood—Wilmer Valderrama. Here are a few notes:

1. T-Pain looks like Goldilocks
2. Wilmer dances reggaeton like he’s not wearing a rubber (pause)
3. Wisin is an awesome wingman
4. Don’t fuck with Amaury Nolasco’s girl

Bonus: Wilmer gets fatally shot—subsequently there’s an oil spill nationwide.

The End

Thursday, October 15, 2009

I Walked a Marathon, Really I Did


Hello personal blog, it's been a while. Since we last met I freakin’ walked (easy with the running, I'm still chubby) a marathon. Even better the marathon was the Avon Breast Cancer Walk. Here are a couple of things I learned the day of the walk.

1. Men don't really participate. I was definitely a minority within a minority within a minority—a Latin guy named Jesús. It felt like I was walking with the cast of Big Love.

2. In physical challenges I need extra motivation. If it weren't for the wife I would have quit by mile 10.

3. I hate blisters but my favorite one is the one on my right foot; it's shaped like Louisiana.

Uno,

Jesus

PS: If you haven't donated yet, there's still time! Go here! Thank you!

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Should I Run For The Border?


As part of our training for the Avon Breast Cancer Walk (donate here if you can) in October my wife and I completed a 5K run across the Brooklyn Bridge this past Sunday. We ran it in the pouring NYC rain and the sticky NYC humidity. As we reached the end there were a lot of well-wishers saying, "You're almost there," "way to go" etc. As we pass by a group of people a lady screams out "run for the border!" WTF?

Was it because we were a Latino couple? Was it because I was rocking a Home Depot vest? Was it because my wife's hoop earrings were hitting her in her face? Or was it simply because it was pouring and our backs were wet? Maybe she was really torn up over the Taco Bell Chihuahua dying? Or was it just a quick racial stab thrown at a chubby couple too tired to fight back?

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

650-lb Virgin Has Hamburger!


Nowadays my appetite for cable TV has tripled. I'm not only watching guilty pleasures like Bad Girls Club but I'm also including various docs in my viewing diet. This past Sunday I caught TLC's 650-lb Virgin…yes, I know those two words go hand-in-hand. A couple of things I took away from it: a) good thing I'm losing weight, b) you know you're obese when your genital area looks like a huge flesh hamburger bun (extra sack up top and his bolas below) and you have to pull out your penis with tweezers in order to take a whiz. Yikes. The doc follows David Smith on his journey from obese man to blossoming personal trainer.

Smith is freaked out by his package's extra package so just imagine whipping that out in front a woman. Still, there are a ton of freaks out there and I wouldn't be surprised if one of them wouldn't take it for whirl…or at least flick at it. Smith is now beginning his career as a personal trainer. Yes, he isn't as diesel as your regular PT and yes after flab reduction surgery his nipples are on his ribcage area. But there’s one thing he can do the others probably can't—he can say I was there before. He’s got the package to prove it.

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, May 18, 2009

NY Yankee Baseball = Grey’s Anatomy


Grey's Anatomy is consuming my wife and her BFF Pris. Pris and Oz were in town from sunny San Diego so we decided to go to the new Yankee (gag) Stadium and watch A-Rod walk three times. Even though the wives were entertained their convo mainly focused on the Grey season finale. They were even spotted on the Jumbotron and didn't realize it because Izzy is on her death bed aka the writers are killing her off because Katherine Heigal is a dbag. But I started thinking (mind you I'm a Met fan) that Yankee baseball and Grey's Anatomy are quite similar. See below.

Derek Jeter is a combination of McDreamy and McSteamy: Jeter is a fan fave who is the consummate pro. Yet, he has scumbag tendencies like McSteamy because he dips his pen in a lot, a lot of ink.

Token Asians: Hideki Matsui and Sandra Oh...I'd go with Godzilla.

A-Rod is Grey: he's an emotional wreck, has a man crush on Jeter and has used steroids. Grey is an emotional wreck, is married to McDreamy and has used botox on her leathery face. Ding, ding, ding.

While the Yankee boast more Latinos than a WKTU freestyle concert, Grey’s has one Latina—Sara Ramirez. And that’s the biggest dissimilarity. PS: Yankees suck.

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, May 8, 2009

Top 5 Ass Beatings By My Mom


I'm a mama's boy. It didn't hit me until I got married and called my mom a couple of times every day. She raised me the good ol’ Latino way: chancleta, metal spoon, Nintendo controller cord basically whatever she can get in a good whooping. Time outs are for sissies, kids. With Mother’s Day coming on Sunday it made me (and my ass) remember the top worst beatings she ever gave me.

5.At 2-years-old I used to hold my breath when I didn't get my way. My mom tossed me into a tub of cold water. Imagine shrinkage as a toddler. Brrrrr!

4.Throughout my childhood when I acted up my mom and her henchwomen aka my older sisters would hold me down on the floor. Ma dukes would proceed to lay the power of dad’s belt on me.

3.Random smacks. It'd be a pleasant day and I’d get a smack in the face. For what? Something I did the week ago and she always made sure I got checked. Funny how moms always say, “This hurts me more than it hurts you.” Nope!

2. At age 5, I called my mom a bitch in a video store. She laid down the smack down. No He-Man movie for me.

1. At 12, the height of my assholism, my mom gave me the beating of my lifetime. I had been acting up in school, hanging with hoodlums, doing graffiti, etc. My mom found out I got a C in Spanish (can you imagine?) and I hid the report card! Envision a female mini version of Manny Pacquiao vs. Bambi. I was Bambi.

Aside from good ol' fashioned Latin American discipline my mom is a great mom. I love you mom with all my heart so enjoy your day. I scoff at my sisters when they give my nieces timeouts. Those damn hypocrite henchwomen!

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Immigrants Work Hard…Duuhhh!


I planted a tree this past Saturday. I shit you not. The wife and I volunteered to plant trees in Pomonuc Park in Queens. I always wanted to do something green especially after watching Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth. This was the first time in a long time that I actually did hard manual labor. The last time was probably when I was skinning chickens with my pops at the butcher shop. I could do it, I just put my back into it (word to Cube).

One of Yva's co-workers also attended. She ended up on a team of about 10 or more people, Yva and I were on a team of four including us. Her co-worker kept on telling us her team was going to out-tree ours. Umm ok. What she didn't know was that my team was chock-full of hardworking immigrants or immigrant offspring. It was myself and the wife (brown people with parents who speak English so broken you’d swear Fat Joe sat on it), Fernando (a Latino straight off the boat) and Yi (a Korean store owner, seriously). Shit all we needed was a Jamaican and we could’ve started and finished demolishing Shea Stadium. Some onlookers even thought we were just regular city workers because c’mon if you see a bunch of minorities digging up soil you’d think the same. We planted our first tree in no time. Why? Well, as any immigrant or their children will tell you it's in our genes—word hard or you will not survive. So next time I need to get my hands dirty I’m calling Fernando.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

I Lost Weight Now my Wife is Idolizing Lorena Bobbit


I've been fighting the battle of the bulge since the second grade. And the mofo's been winning more often than not. It’s tough coming from a Latino family with all the delicious food my mom can whip up. As a child I was a plumper because I had extra helpings of her food not fast food…actually I probably didn’t have a Big Mac until my high school years. I was only in shape from 17 to 21 or so. Matter of fact I was kinds of diesel thanks to creatine and protein shakes (horrible way to create muscle). Well, I lost interest once my internships (career) became a priority. It got out of hand when I started dating the wife—you know what they say when you're happy and don't need to impress to get nalgas your gut expands. Well, I still want to impress the wife, of course, so in January I started doing Weight Watchers and so far I've lost 30 pounds. I know I got a long way to go but it’s a great start. Below are five things I noticed since I lost a Thanksgiving Day Turkey (to feed a Mormon family) from my body.

1. I don't sweat when I pick up a pencil or peel an orange (I keed of course, but I do sweat a lot…just not as much).


2. I have more energy...like a lot.

3. I attempted to wear Jim Jones (tight) jeans and they actually fit.

4. I'm addicted to 100 calorie snacks. But now I actually have one at a time.

5. My wife is practicing her Lorena Bobbit technique because the Boston Market girl flirted with yours truly. Pull, jerk and cut...right hun. Gulp!



Uno,

Jesús

Monday, March 9, 2009

NYC, Characters Not Welcome


To say New York City is full of interesting people would be the freakin’ understatement of the century. This weekend was evidence that New Yorkers aren’t just interesting but annoying, dumb, gentle, negative, and did I mention annoying. Below are some of the “characters” I encountered this weekend.

Mr. Chicken Wing
He was a hefty guy at the doctor’s small office …with two buckets of KFC and a four-month-old baby. He proceeds to eat said fried chicken and feeds his baby some fried bird as well. Oh, and it’s 11AM.

Mrs. Nosey
A Puerto Rican woman sitting in back of me in the doc’s office; she’s chatting on her cell phone. Her topic: The fat guy feeding fried chicken to his baby. She tells her friend in Spanish, “He must be at least 300 pounds…he looks like a whale…oh my Lord he’s feeding that baby fried chicken.” She spoke low enough so only the people in front of her could hear…I mean she didn’t want to cause a scene.

Chatty McGee
She’s my dad’s home health aid on the weekends. My father had to be taken to the hospital because he was dehydrated (he’s good though). Well, on the way to the hospital Lizbeth (who would make Gilbert Godfried a joy to be around) asks me what “pipe” means in English. I respond, all the while concerned with about my father, and she says laughing, “In my country that’s a man’s genitals.” Great!

Dr. Happy
The doctor assigned to my pops was the kindest physician I’ve ever met in an ER. Nice, informative and an overall sweetheart.

The Orderly
I simply couldn’t understand her. She comes into my father’s room and talked gibberish. Then she proceeds to move him to another room. “TJKGJTFHJFJHGJG” is what she said.

The Shitter
He was in the room next to my pop. He was coughing up a lung, reeking of urine and eventually feces. Turns out he shitted on himself and we had the luck of being there in the front row.

The Nasty Nurse
After the nonsensical orderly moved my father into the same room where the shitter was only minutes ago I asked the nurse to move him. She coldly said, “No.” Think Little Britain USA (see below). My wife then proceeded to wish bodily harm on her.

The Clerk
And to bring it home for the weekend we have the South American supermarket clerk with the lazy eyes. On Sunday, we hit up Key Food and my wife made a new friend. As the clerk began scanning our food she also began to chat my wife up about her poodle. “The poodle is so perrty, my uncle gonna have to pay for her to get operated. She perrty…and pregnant.” The customer behind us began clutching her fists because LES (Lazy Eyes) is taking her time. She finally finishes scanning all the food and then messes it up with a Key Food gift card. Once she fucks up she runs away to get her manager. Her pissed off manager comes over and fixes the register. The closer: As we’re leaving LES screams out to a fellow co-worker, “Pirullo…yo me voy a las ocho!”

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I Think Slumdog Millionaire Made Me Racist


I say this because ever since I saw Slumdog Millionaire a few months back, every time I see a young Indian couple I think of the movie. Perhaps it’s just an innocent image association thing my mind plays on me. The fairy tale-ending flick (with the ill Bollywood dance number closer) has infiltrated my mind the same way City of God did. Even though I would love to travel to Brazil, there’s something in my mind that says, “Watch out for those favelas! It ain’t like any barrio U.S.A!”

In retrospect, one of Slumdog’s goals was probably to provide a positive image for India and its people. If I think of Jamal and Latika dancing in the middle of a train platform every time I see an Indian couple is it that bad? Who knows what they think when they see me? Perhaps, they view me as a drug dealing illegal immigrant who doesn’t speak English. Hmmm…I’ll go with the dancing number.

Uno,

Jesus

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

The Case of the Teflon Pan


One of things I love/hate about marriage is the ridiculous mini fights. After a long day of work the exact words I want to hear on the other end of the phone are, "Why did you use the metal spatula on the pan?" Really? She continues, "You have to use the wooden spoon on that one...it's our only Teflon pan." Really? "This is the third time!" Really? It's a pan. Who gives a fruck? Apparently my wife does and she wants to make sure she keeps her Teflon pan scratch-free. What can you do in instances like this? I laughed it off because a) I’ll probably do it again and b) she’s really tired from work and will probably forget it. So the next time your girl/wife screams at you over a something ridiculous just smile and keep it moving. You might get a nice meal out of it…I did.

Uno,

Jesus

Friday, February 6, 2009

25 Things You Should Know About My Wife


OK so I'm jumping on Facebook's “25 things you should know about me” bandwagon . . . but I'm doing it with a twist. Rather than bore you with my facts, I'll list 25 things you should know about my wife. She’s prettier.

1. She's adorable, beautiful, sexy, etc.
2. She's my wife. Sorry ladies I'm taken (word to TG)
3. She dated losers in the past. I'm assuming.
4. She's extremely close to her sister Diana. Like extremely.
5. During her Hofstra years she was known as Yva the Diva on her radio show.
6. She was a radio personality on Long Island's WBLI.
7. She has three little brothers…who aren’t little anymore.
8. Her favorite movie is Clueless.
9. She thinks Paul Pierce is a flopper and therefore hates him.
10. She loves my mom's food.
11. She has a crush on Manolo Cardona, a Colombian soap actor.
12. She has perfect dimples.
13. She was an Angie Martinez fan. Thanks to Angie & DJ Enuff we met.
14. She can't watch horror flicks. She made me walk out of The Hills Have Eyes.
15. Her two best friends moved away and she misses them everyday. Adri in Miami and Pris in San Diego.
16. She thinks her cuz Teji is mad smart....she is.
17. She supports everything I do.
18. She's always late (see Glamour Magazine later this year).
19. She always gets complimented on her curly locks.
20. 90% of the time she sings when we play Rock Band
21. She loves White Zinfandel
22. She has great fashion sense
23. She's always smiling and has great teeth. She actually considered being a dentist.
24. She loves pop music. As far as rap, she's really into Game and Weezy right now but she is so not hip-hop.
25. It's her birthday tomorrow. Bonus: Aquarius and Gemini have great chemistry (word to Walter Mercado).
And one for good luck: 26. I love her with all my heart and vice versa.

I could go one but I wouldn’t want y’all to puke.

Uno,

Jesus

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Dream Job Deterred: Bikini-Clad Latina Cannot Serve Beer


As I was perusing the New York newspaper sites this headline: “Former Hooters girl Melody Morales sues Hawaiian Tropic Zone for discrimination,” caught my eye. I didn’t click on it for the obvious (Hooters) but for the last name; I mean I gotta see what’s up with mi gente, right? Well, much to my chagrin it wasn’t the story I was looking for; not to say that she has no right to sue anyone but it’s the damn quotes coming out of her mouth. UGGH! Before I go further, she says she was discriminated because of her accent which is foul but again check the quotes below. Also, the Tropics manager isn’t a genius either.

“The lawsuit says Morales went with her mother to the restaurant in March 2008 in search of a job. But the suit claims she was told to get lost by a manager, who said, ‘I am not going to ruin my business with your Latin accent.’”
Don’t Latinas with accents have men putty in their hands?

“Morales, who said her dream job is to pour drinks while strutting her stuff in a bikini, returned to the Hawaiian Tropic Zone months later still in pursuit of a position.”
Really? WTF? Not I want to go to college or get my Barack on and do community service?

"They never even looked at me in a bikini," she whimpered.
This sounds like a scene from a Skinemax flick.

A lawyer for the Riese Organization, which operates the Hawaiian Tropic Zone, said the suit is "without merit." "We are proud of the many Latino and Latina employees in our diverse workforce," said James Rosenzweig.
What he meant to say was we’re proud of all the illegal immigrants in the kitchen.

"It was kind of like my dream to work at the [Hawaiian Tropic Zone]," she said. "It's the bikini, I guess.
Again SMH!

Uno,

Jesus
[Source]

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Guilty Pleasure: The Bad Girls Club



I have a confession: I love The Bad Girls Club. Yes, it's a guilty pleasure. Yes, it's on Oxygen (why the fuck am I watching that?). Yes, it's reality TV but I love it. The wife and I ended up watching a marathon on a day we were home sick from work. If you haven't seen it, just imagine taking all the wild girls from The Real World crew and arming them with a limo at their disposable. Clubs, liquor, booty shaking, buttafaces—all in one show! Every night and all night. Check the clip below and tell me you wouldn’t get hooked.

Uno,

Jesus

Co-Workers Make The World Go ‘Round


This past Thursday I swung by the homie Ans' fiesta at Negril. With all the familiar faces it felt like a class reunion (one you wouldn't mind going to). The more and more I reminisced the more I felt removed from the hip-hop mag world. Even though it was less than two years ago it felt like a lifetime ago. I still love hip-hop culture and will ‘til God calls me up but things done changed.

Yet the more important realization I had that night was how much I missed working with these people. As awkward as it was at times at the old gig I could always rely on good times with great co-workers. Anyway this is just a shout-out to all my former co-workers (Ans, Matt, Kali, Sean) who were there and those who weren't (LC, Killa, Tone, JB, Aqua). Damn this recession is a mean mutha.

Uno,

Jesus

Monday, January 5, 2009

Latinos Gets No Love in ‘The Real World’



I’m an avid Real World watcher. In my early 20s I would identify with some of the cast mates but now as a full blown adult I enjoy poking fun at them. It’s pure entertainment. Yet in the 20 seasons and counting and the over 100 cast mates their have only been around nine Latinos on the show. See below for the breakdown.

L.A.
: Irene was a cop. The cowboy virgin developed a crush on here.

San Francisco: Rachel was Cuban and *shock* a Republican from Arizona. She frenched Puck, yes, that Puck.

Pedro: Became a sign of the times and inspiration to millions…ain’t nothing wrong with that. R.I.P.

Miami: Melissa is Cuban (hey it’s Miami!) and had a threesome in the house.

Philadelphia: Willie was a gay Puerto Rock who was on Ghostwriter.

Austin: Johanna is Peruvian, pretty cute except for her overbite. Dated Wes. UGGH!

Key West: Jose: It took over 10 years just to get a Jose on the show. Where is MTV looking!?

Sydney: Didn’t watch this one but apparently there was a Latina on the cast.

Brooklyn: J.D. is a gay dude who works as a dolphin trainer.

Now out of the 9 Latinos on the show three were gay, not that there’s anything wrong with that, at least three were Cuban and one made out with Puck. Latinos are presently the largest minority group in the States yet we gets no love on the Real World. Maybe it’s a good thing we don’t always make the cut. When was the last time anyone on RW made you feel proud. That’s real.

Uno,

Jesus

Thursday, January 1, 2009

Colombian Cougars Got My Brother-In-Law…And He Loved It


I spent New Year’s Eve with a bunch of cumbia-loving Colombians. The wife, her fam and I attended a party in Queens which included food, an orchestra and a multitude of underdressed cougars. It was fun to get out of the routine of eating food and getting a blessing from the ‘rents (which I still got via phone). Even though the food was included in the cover price the liquor wasn’t so I pulled a ‘hood move and brought in a bottle of booze (I was checked at the door by a blind man). After a decent meal and a couple of shots of Tequila we turned our attention to my bro-in-laws. The oldest one Stephen was looking dapper, pause, and getting his game on like he was back in DR.

His game didn’t go live until he was buzzed but it was on overdrive once he was on. He was stopped by one of, as my wife called them, the Housewives of Jackson Heights and she proceeded to lay her botoxy nalgas on young’un. They were both easy prey—he’s days away from being 18 and she was hours away from celebrating her 18th botox injection. She was rolling with two other (lame) cougars who I assumed were married to either a travel agency/wire service store owner or a drug dealer or restaurateur who was funded by drugs. Oh stereotypes among Latinos! You gotta love it! By the end of the night Stevie got some digits and Julio (their friend) got the digits of a girl whose mom was a man-mom (he-she’s face was rougher than Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler). At midnight I got many kisses from my bella and thanked God for my life. 2009 will be even better than the last 365 days.

Happy & Prosperous 2009!

Jesus

Where’s Our Go-To Couple?


Ralph & Alice had Ed & Trixie; Doug & Carrie had Deacon & Kelly; Fred & Wilma had Barney & Betty. The wife and I do not have a go-to couple. You know, the pair of husband/wife or bf/gf that are the default double date peeps. Most of our friends are single and mingling for the exception of a few. Last week one of her bffs, Pris, came over the crib with her hubby Oz. And it was in-cred-ible. We enjoyed great food (cooked by my wife, the shock I know), talked current events a bit, and more importantly played video games.

While Pris and Yva yakked about ponies and Oprah (which I assume women talk about), Oz and I talked sports, hip-hop and video games (which is what a Marine and journalist talk about). We drank sangria, played DC Universe vs. Mortal Kombat, Buzz and Rock Band until 2AM and then watched Superbad. Alas, they live in San Diego and only come once a year if that. They were gone and now it’s just a pleasant memory. So one of the things I asked for Christmas was to get Pris & Oz to come back to the Dirt Jerz or for one of our solo amigos/as to get a solid patna.

Uno,

Jesus