Monday, August 25, 2008

In Other Noticias/News no. 1

As a child I hated anything on TV that didn’t involve cartoons (G.I. Joes, Voltron, Thundercats, Bravestar, Silver Hawks, Ducktales, Bionic Six...ok i'll stop), a cool sitcom (Different Strokes, Happy Days, Webster, Silver Spoons, Facts of Life, Saved by the Bell, Charles in Charge), or sports (of course the AMAZIN' METS; yup, the METS. I’ve been a METS fan since I was 5 yrs old, don’t hate). I would practically get a nervous breakdown if anything else was showing on our 26 inch Zenith Television with the wooden frame that weighed 3,000 pounds; especially the NEWS. Are you kidding me, the news? (believe it or not this wooden framed TV, was a must have in every Dominican household, don't ask me why...look at that cute kid up there. That was before all of the appetite enhancers! And yes, we continue to put plastic covering on our couches) Man, I don’t know what was worse for a child during after school hours, being asked to do your homework before anything else, even breathing; being told to take a trip to the corner bodega for wonder bread, a dollar worth of American cheese and a half-gallon of whole milk (none of that skim crap) while you were watching Thunder Cats; or having to bare the torment of watching Rafael Pineda and Denise Oller (two of the most famous Latin anchors in Spanish TV HISTORY…for like FOREVER!) for half-an-hour, as they reported the local news…IN SPANISH!!!! OMG! Hang me! But, something funny began to occur as I grew older. I actually began to enjoy some local news, some current affairs, a little NY1 here, and even a little UNIVISION there. I also became interested in world news, and “weird” news, as I like to call it. I was highly interested in the unusually; things that occurred that were a bit out of the ordinary. From these “out of the ordinary” stories, I decided to create an addition to this blog titled “In Other Noticias/News”. Every once in a while I’ll write about these creepy, funny, scary, and out of the ordinary reports and I’ll try to keep it interesting and current. Enjoy!

Tuesday August 19th, 2008: “Dead Man Standing?”

If you were granted one last wish on your death bed, what would you ask for? Would you have any special requests for the day of your wake? Or would you feel too young to begin planning the way to “go” when it was time to “go”? Well the person or former person in our first story made sure he had everything planned out; with every detail. This is the story of a 24 yr old man from San Juan, Puerto Rico; The man once known as Angel Pantoja Medina, but who is currently known to the media as “Dead Man Standing”. If you haven’t heard this unique and “creepy” story, stay tuned for this one. It is reported that Angel Pantoja Medina, made a special request to his loved ones. The request, that in the event of his death, and for his wake, he preferred to be placed in the upright position or “standing”, for everyone to see. Yup, once again, not a typo folks. The young man dreamed of being watched, at his wake, by family and friends, in the upright position…or in the “Chillin” position, with hands in his pockets and all. Unfortunately for Angel, his dream, or wish, however you may want to call it, was fulfilled a bit too soon. Angel was discovered dead last Friday, buried underneath a bridge. Puerto Rico police are still investigating this case. At the time of his untimely death, his mother went along with her son’s request and found a funeral home, that promised to carry out this feat, and that they surely did. If you take a moment to view the pictures to the left, although I know you’ve done that already, you’ll witness the images of Angel, or the corpse of, dressed up in his favorite Yankees baseball cap, his favorite pair of Dolce-Gabbana sunglasses, a designer shirt and some baggy jeans. Thanks to a special embalming treatment, the body was kept upright in one of the corners of his mother’s home, for 3 days of viewing (omg, that’s so creepy. who slept in that house?). According to El Nuevo Dia newspaper, the “Dead Man Standing’s” brother, Carlos (seen here kissing Angel), disclosed that Angel had always said that he wanted to be upright for his own wake. Carlos said “We use to talk about this stuff. He said he wanted to be happy, standing, ready to party when it was his time.” OK? But things don't end there, according to Primer Impacto, in addition to his wake request, Angel also requested that he not be watched during his burial, so that everyone's final memory of him, would be of him standing, "happy". It is reported that no one, not even his immediate family, watched as he was lowered 6 feet under, keeping their promise. Woe?

August 06th, 2008: Chinese man found humping a bench: “Me Love you long time?”

Women always say that men have two heads, and that we’re always thinking with the “other one”. I can’t seem to blame them, but I think a lot of us just do; I plead the 5th (hehe). Some time ago, an article was published that stated that men think about sex every 7 seconds; well that’s a little too crazy don’t you think? A few years ago, UK’s own TIMESONLINE, featured an article where research by The Kinsey Institute at Indiana University revealed that 54% of men think about sex at least every day (yup!), 43% think about it a few times a week or month (umm…I’m still in that previous bracket), and 4% think about it once a month or less (what? And we’re speaking about live men right?). So, this study clearly shows one commonality here, men think about SEX, even if it’s only once a month (sike, sike, sike). Now, having put that behind us, I raise the following question, what was Mr. Xian Xing thinking about?

A few weeks ago, a 41-year-old Hong Kong man by the name of Xian Xing, was found stuck to a bench. Not because he was “crazy glued” to it, or holding on to it in protest of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, or because he was nailed to it, No!, BUT BECAUSE HE WAS ACTUALLY NAILING IT! Yes, my friends, the 41-year-old man was caught humping a freaking bench in the middle of the night. According to the lonely man apparently thought it would be fun, or even satisfying I might add, to place his “thingy” in one of the numerous holes found in the bench’s design, and perform the act of SEX. To his dismay, when his “thingy-wingy” became aroused (no homo), he was stuck to the uniquely designed and “tempting” bench (please view Exhibit A up above). Now found in this “stiff” predicament, he was forced to phone the police for help. When the cops arrived, they found Xing face down where he had been for some time. When the doctors arrived to the scene, they tried different procedures to free him from “his love toy”, but his “thingy-wingy” was a bit to swollen (no homo). The team was forced to cut the entire bench off, and transport it to the nearest hospital, with Xing stuck to it. After four grueling hours, the staff of Doctors managed to free him. One of the doctors on the scene said that if he would have been stuck for even an hour longer, they would have had to remove his penis; how’s that for current affairs?

See Mr. Xing leaving the Hospital after his embarrassing procedure. I bet he won't do that again; at least not with the same bench.

Now, giving this scene a little comical flip, can you imagine that phone call? I can, and it probably went a little something like this: (now I don’t know Mandarin or Cantonese, so I’ll role play this scene in English).

Xing: Ah, police-ah?
Police: Yes, this-ah police-ah?

Xing: Me have ah hard problem…
Police: Wha’ hard problem you have?
Xing: A very, very hard one!
Police: Plea’ explain-ah

Xing: Me very lonely man you see…

Police: Yes, you lonely man…

Xing: (clearing his throat, and maybe crying) Um…Me ova here in LanTian park righ?

Police: Righ?
Xing: And-
ah, me wanna do a quickie, wit da beautiful benchy righ?

Police: (with confusion)Uh.. Riiigh?

Xing: So, Me ah sticky, me peepe, in a benchy

Police: What-ah You-ah say?
Xing: Me ah, sticky ah, me peepee, in the benchy!

Police: So sowy, come again?

Xing: I got my d*ck stuck in one of these motherf&*king benches with all the f&*king holes!

Police: Oh shit! You didn’t? We’ll be right there….WITH EVERYBODY! (Click)

Man-o-man, what will they come up with next? Tune in next time for more Noticias/News!
Be Merry! Live, Love, and…don’t mess around with benches.

Saturday, August 23, 2008

The year of the Aqua-Man aka Mr. Phelps

So, the USA women’s basketball team got the gold earlier today, by smacking the Aussie by 27 pts (92-65), and the men’s “Redeem Team” (derived from Dream Team), as they are called after losing an upset in Athens 2004, are bound to win their 2nd gold in the last three Olympics. Now, that’s good news, all is fine and dandy, and I’m truly proud of our nation. We've definitely brought some heat to this year’s events. But, for some odd reason, I feel there’s been something recently missing from these “Beijing 2008 Games”. Something feels really weird and I can’t seem to point it out. What could it be? I got it; the Olympics are AMAZINGLY boring without University of Michigan Alumni (even though they didn't let him swim after he landed an endorsement deal with speedo he-he; morons), and swimming phenom 23 year old Michael Phelps aka Mr. Aqua-Man (as I'll refer to him throughout this blog).

Who's Michael Phelps you may ask? Well, if you’ve just arrived to this country and by that matter shouldn’t be reading this blog, or you’ve been in a coma and on life support and just woke up TODAY, or, you live in a cave, in some strange location where there’s absolutely no human contact, (shit, even the Mayan know who Michael Phelps is), or if you’ve been kept hostage by some down-and-under stealth-mob, then you’re forgiven; but for the rest of you humanoids, shame-shame. In the event that you’ve missed it all, here's a snippet. Diagnosed with ADHD (attention deficit hyperactivity disorder) as a child, his mom thought it would do him well to put his hyperactivity to good use, maybe some type of sport or physical activity; she chose SWIMMING! Boy-o-boy, did Ms. Phelps make the correct choice. Check his recent résumé: He’s obtained 14 total gold medals in the last two Olympics -all-time record; 8 gold medals at this year’s games surpassing Mark Spitz ’72-another record; and 16 total medals in the Olympics second only to Soviet gymnast Larissa Latynina; and he's only 23. Impressed? Let’s get a quick breakdown of the man that took the world by storm; maybe even by THUNDER STORM.

We’ll begin with Mr. Aqua-Man’s physique shall we? Body Type: 6’4” (76”), 200-205 pounds; Wingspan: 6' 7" (79”), yes, the measurement across his arms from tip-to-tip is taller than he is; Inseam: 32”; Shoe size: 14. According to an article from The Detroit News (, Mr. Aqua-man, is the closest thing to a mother-freaking human dolphin. He has hyper-mobility and/or flexibility throughout his whole body. What does that mean? The dude has double-jointed ankles, knees, wrists and elbows. Let me repeat this folks, he has DOUBLE-JOINTED ANKLES, KNEES, and WRISTS and ELBOWS! Oh my gooseness (as the folks from my country say). Wanna hear something freakier? Mr. Aqua-man’s “ankles bend about 10-15 degrees more than normal, to almost parallel with his leg at full extension, turning his feet into flippers.” Ed Reese, coach of the U.S. swim team in Beijing says “He’s a once-in-a-lifetime physical specimen.” If that's not enough, he has a bit of X-MEN in him. That's right, an X-MEN, like Wolverine, or if you're a Heroes fan like I am, he's a bit like Claire the cheerleader. Not that he can regenerate in an instant to gunshot wounds, or broken bones, and an atomic bomb, but the Dude, was tested some years ago, and it was found that his muscles recover remarkably fast between workout and races. Crazy right? And let’s not even mention his diet and workout regimen; Simply abnormal!

Depending on the day and what workout he has planned, Mr. Aqua-man can scarf down anywhere from 8,000-12,000 calories per day. That’s not a typo folks, it’s the real deal. That’s more than 4 to 6 times what the normal adult male in-takes on any given day; 4 to 6 TIMES! (If you read my previous blog on calorie count, you know this would really traumatize the nation). Let’s look at a typical “breakfast of champions” (and kids, you shouldn’t try this at home, this is done by a professional whose workout routine would make a Belmont Horse take a cigarette break). reports that it “starts off with three fried-egg sandwiches loaded with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, fried onions and mayonnaise, five-egg omelet, two cups of coffee, three chocolate chip pancakes, three slices of French toast with powdered sugar, and, to top it all off, a bowl of grits… Now for the rest of the day, Phelps eats two pounds of pasta, two ham and cheese sandwiches smothered in mayo, an entire pizza, and then he washes it down with 2,000 calories worth of energy drinks.” Who would want to pick-up that bill? Yo no (not me)! Pete Bommarito, the director of performance and nutrition at Perfect Competition says “It’s one of the most insane things I’ve ever heard”.

It may sound insane to many, even to myself, but this outrageous meal plan, which is packed with carbohydrates for fuel, is done in preparation for his intense workout regimen; this dude burns it all off, or how else do you think he can maintain an approximate 8% of body fat. It is reported that Mr. Aqua-Man works out 5 hours a day, 6-7 days a week. While training, he swims an estimated 50 miles per week (that's about the same as swimming around the island of Manhattan...twice), and can burn up to 4,000 calories just in his warm-ups. During these 2008 Olympics he swam an approximate 25 miles and over 1,000 laps at Water Cube, including preliminary and semifinal heats. Why do I call this guy Mr. Aqua-Man? According to, he was reported as saying “My job is to be in the water and swim,”. He later admitted that without water, he does not know what he would be doing. Now if that's not an Aquaman talking, than i don't know what is. His schedule during the week? Eat, swim and sleep. He says "that's all I have time for". Hey Michael! Where are you man? Beijing ain't the same without you! Well, let's see what 2012 will bring. He'll be 27 by then, hmmm... U.S. swimmer and Olympic medalist Dana Torres was 41 at this year's showdown. Can you just imagine? Oh man, that's scary, I feel more medals coming along. Opponents please be scared...Be very scared.

Kinda looks like a freaking AQUAMAN to me. See the resemblance?

Big Ups Mon! Everything’s Irie (alright). Be Merry! Live, Love and Swim!
Oh, and give that man something to EAT!

Friday, August 22, 2008

Salsa Anyone?

You've been there. Yeah, I'm talking to you! You know, a nice after work event, with all or most of your favorite buddies, while you're enjoying your first of "2 for 1" drinks special. You take that first sip of your favorite drink, or henney (my favorite), while you simultaneously move your feet to everything they play. House? "Check!" Hip-Hop? "No Problem". Reggae and/or Reggeaton? "My hips don't lie, piece of cake"! Merengue? "Man! Spin me faster, I'm on a roll". Bachata? "Hey DJ keep playing that song, I'm killing the dance floor".

Your grooving and moving, getting freaky on the dance floor, and sweating to the oldies (ok, that was a bit lame, but you get the point). And suddenly, something really strange occurs, something horrifying. You feel an uncomfortable mist fill the room like that deep muggy fog, found in the woods scene of your favorite Friday the 13th movie. You begin to hear a familiar voice, followed by a familiar sound from afar. You don't know where it's coming from, and you can't understand why this is happening, but you can hear it. You begin to hear the distinct sound of the "clave" pa-pa, pa-pa-pa, pa-pa, pa-pa-pa. The tune starts to ring in your ears and you begin to look for ways of escape. The DJ skillfully begins to raise the volume to single out the song thats playing. A song from El Gran Combo (the great combo), titled El Negro Bembon (The black guy w/ big lips), and in an instant, as if someone released a potent flatulent rectal gas (a fart), all hell breaks lose and 95% of the folks that were getting jiggy with it (i know lame) clear the dance floor. The walls of the club become a refuge for the innocent bystanders who are looking for shelter. What just happened you may ask? What could have caused this mayhem?
The DJ decided to play SALSA! Yup! SALSA! SALSA! SALSA! and SALSA!

I don't know what it is, but I've witnessed this (and so have you) time and time again. People are terrified of dancing this style of music. Now is it me, or everywhere I go it seems that only an eighth of the folks stay on the dance floor. Something just comes over folks when this intimidating form of dance expression known as SALSA, is heard over the speaker systems. There's just something about completing a dance w/ coordination and style that drives people NUTS! And as the floor is deserted, they (the intimated) come up with excuses of having to go smoke, or take a piss, or check their make-up, or take a piss and check their make up or smoke, take a piss and check their make-up. But you will NEVER, or very rarely hear a group say...."Hey, it's SALSA, OMG please, please, please, let's go dance! OMG! "This is like my favorite song for like forever and ever!" "Chicas (girls) pleeease let's go Daaaaaance!" That will never, ever happen! Well, Unless you're at an afro-Cuban/puerto rican convention, them folks don't play. But do you know why it won't happen? Ever? Cause there's always one or two people in every given group, that will never dare to mess with it...they just wont. They'll pierce their nipples, tongues and toes...YES! Tattoo their eyelids, sharpen their teeth with chisels (thanks Zak), and even suspend themselves from their skin, for pleasure. But they will never, ever, ever, ever...mess with the creature of "dance-floor-destruction" known as SALSA. Is it all the spotlights?

The funny thing is that, although most of the party people in the house would be scared shit less of stepping on the dance floor with, OMG all those SPOTLIGHTS! You'll notice that there are a few that have some freaking courage. You see them, trying to pull a quick one-two step in a dark corner...BY THEMSELVES! Or you'll catch the classic and always occurring scene of those two BFF's, performing the same freaking "wrong" steps they practiced in their rooms the day before (i love seeing them). But the one that takes the cake, and I love this one, is that occasionally unique, special and drunk ass couple, that just had a little too much to drink, and really believe they know what they're doing. They just don't give a shit about anything or anyone. They come to drink and dance all night! They'll stay on the dance floor for 18 consecutive hours, regardless of what plays, who stays, who goes, who comes and YUP! They'll even dance SALSA! You stare at them and laugh cause their happy feet are doing something that looks like a mixture between merengue and house w/ a little bit of hip-hop/bachata. Yeah! They're dancing merenhouhihoachata. But at least they have the testicular fortitude to be out there and give a try.

Now of course, you have the selected few (myself included hehe, Exhibit A to the left..don't hate. Yup, that's me and my homegirl Giz.) that know a little something-something about this dance. But i'm not gonna try and play myself and act like i'm a pro. I'm not like some of those other couples that take advantage of the deserted dance floor. You've seen them. You actually become one of their fans. They always show up and their outfits are even coordinated and shit. And they look so serious, never making eye contact with all the jaw dropped spectators. And please don't tell me they don't take classes together. Pleeeeease! Just save it. You've seen them! I know you have. They spin each other 3,793 times in the same spot, and twist themselves in and out of pretzel formations without breaking a sweat or their bones. Almost having sex with their cloths on while they complete all their moves. I know you hate them... I hate them to. You know their showing off right? You know they are! Just look at them, as they glide across the dance floor as if they were wearing ice skates and competing for the mother-freaking Olympic gold medal. But what is it that separates them from the other 95% who abandoned ship? They have guts and they practice!

So... To all you none SALSA dancers who never, ever care to give it a try. Do yourself a favor, take some time out for yourself, even Google it if you have to, and take some Got Damn Salsa lessons! Don't get caught abandoning ship anymore, or I'll hook you up with that guy that dances by himself in the dark corner. he he.

BE THE MAN! Live, Love and Dance SALSA!

Thursday, August 21, 2008

What's Your Problem? Volume 1. Does America suffer from Obesophobia?

So, I was inspired by a friend to begin my own blog, and after other folks agreed with that notion, I said what the hell. Being someone constantly filled with random thoughts, and several none important, yet interesting topics, I thought a blog would be a good way to share my mental ventilation as I like to call it.

I’ve decided to briefly entertain and pick your brains with one of these unique and random thoughts. How about phobias? A phobia is known as a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to AVOID it. In the study of phobias, we find several intriguing ones like: Medorthophobia- Fear of an erect penis (I’m not kidding); Ballistophobia- Fear of missiles or bullets (shit, I think I suffer from this one); Pluviophobia- Fear of rain or of being rained on; Mageirocophobia- Fear of cooking (some females suffer from this one); and how about Obesophobia aka Pocrescophobia- The Fear of gaining weight. The latter, will be our topic of discussion.

As I focus on the definition of the word PHOBIA, I can’t fail to notice something. Hmmmm… What can it be? Good Lawd! Holy Shit! America suffers from OBESOPHOBIA! They’re afraid, terrified of being categorized as a FAT country. They (the nation) went from spending most of their commercial time and money on “the baby-boomers” to now focusing all of their energy on the “boomers” aka us chubby folk. What? The “baby-boomers” stopped buying all the Fixodent and Ben gay you were trying to sell them? You couldn’t get them to believe that that lady from “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” fell for real? I’m not going to get to political on this topic, although I feel it’s a move to get more money out of us, but I’m just going to brush the surface with it.

So the question arises; does the world, or better put, this nation of ours have a thing against obese aka fat aka big boned aka chubby people? I don’t know, but they’ve made it seem like being overweight is practically illegal. I can’t comprehend what crime we’ve committed but over the past decade or so they have had a tendency of trying to “help us”; “correct us”; “change us”. It’s not enough with letting us know that we’re a bit on the big side; on both sides of the family; tipping the scale; a little too big for comfort, or whatever else they call us! They want to bash it into our heads.

As most of you may already know, a law was passed in New York City, that as of July 18th of this year, chain restaurants (with 15 or more outlets), or 10 percent of New York’s restaurants, were now required to place a calorie count next to the items prices. Now everywhere you go, those little numbers are staring at you dictating what your next meal should be, when in fact your taste buds are craving for something else. Can I be as innocent as a child when I have a meal and enjoy it just for the simple and wonderful reason that it arouses my numerous taste buds? No! Somebody had to come and mess that up as well. Un-freaking-believable! Un-freaking-believable! Just when you thought things were getting worse, with gas prices, global warming, and the never ending war, now I have to consciously know the exact fraction, percentage and quantum physics of calories that I’m in taking per bite/per second. You’re kidding me right?

So ok, I’m not going to be ignorant to the fact that we should be healthy and all, and that being morbidly obese may cause great harm to your body, and life, but shouldn’t information like calorie count be up to the consumer to follow-up on? If I want to have a double quarter pounder with cheese, which by the way I converted to from the famous Big Mac about 7 years ago, then let me have one in peace. If I'm interested in the calorie breakdown, I’ll ask! Been to Dunkin Donuts lately? Why must I freaking know, that a delicious glazed donut is 230 calories, and that a banana walnut muffin is 540 calories, and that I shouldn’t wash that down with a medium size coolatta because that’s 560 calories. Geez, I’m going to be traumatized FOREVER!

I say enough with all this crap already. This is a free and democratic country, and we should have the right to eat whatever the hell we want and it should be cool. Beauty is in the eye of the freaking beholder right? So, behold my big ASS and my “chichos” aka love handles, as I strut my stuff right past you. That’s right! We sexy!

And In honor of this subject, here's a tribute to some chubby folks that are no longer with us, but while they were here, made being chubby the thing to Be! R.I.P my brothers.

Sam Kinison (b. 12/8/53- d. 4/10/92) one crazy ass controversial yes hilarious comedian. Check this classic clip out lol.

Notorious B.I.G(b. 5/21/72- d. 3/9/97): Arguably the greatest EVER!

Big Pun (b. 11/131971-2/7/00): The greatest latin rapper to ever hold a mic.

Chris Farley (b. 2/15/64- d. 12/18/97) : He was my favorite comedian.

Eat what you like and be merry! Celebration Bitches!