Blessed are the

peacemakers, for they shall drive really cool cars.















Lauren, Jen, and Cary at the DR/Haiti border

Apparently Arnold Schwarzenegger writes for Dominican Today

Iran says no to girly sportsmen
Tehran.– Iran's hardline Islamic regime has had enough of footballers with long hair and plucked eyebrows.
"I will ban athletes with an effeminate look," the head of the country's Physical Education Organization, Mohammad Ali-Abadi said, told the Etemad-Melli newspaper.
"It is really disgraceful for Iran that young people step onto fields wearing make-up," the top official fumed.
"When a man enters the field with dyed hair and groomed eyebrows he is disrespecting society."
The paper said Ali-Abadi appeared to be particularly worried about footballers, and warned that "even though they get away with it now, they will be disqualified in the future". As reported on Dominican TodayGoodness... I mean, forget just reading Lolita in Tehran... that country is out of control. Good thing the regime is cracking down. Good thing those fuming regime-ies are going to kick out those who affront society with their effeminine girly man junk. Whew. Though, I like a man with a nice set of eyebrows. I didn't even know nicely groomed eyebrows were disrespectful to society. I guess you really do learn something new everyday. Unibrow or die... or disqualify!

Thank You

365 plus one.

Thank you Chels. For the patience. For the friendship. For the sanity.

Thank you most of all for revelation. Never in my life have I seen a clearer picture of who God is and His intentions towards me than I have seen in you. You've unlocked all kind of deep magic baby.

Thank you Chels.

I love you.

Happy Mexican Friend Day

I have an amiga... she is Mexican, at least by half. I've known her a long time and she has been so kind as to share her heritage with me.

It was at her beseeching that I took my first shot and learned the burning-salt-sour sequence. Vive Mexico! It was through her that I came to truly appreciate May 5, 18-something... when Mexico kicked the French to the curb. I learned this was a feat quite worthy of celebration and thus, my dear mexicana, I, and other friends have been known to fill the trunk of a Cadillac with beer and ice and set up a margarita blending station on a washing machine... all in celebration of Mexican Independence! Vive Cadillac trunk space!

Last year my dear mexicana threw me a party on the 5th of May. She brushed honoring her culture aside and instead, put all her energy into celebrating me and the fact that I would soon be a married senorita. I even got a call from Mexico who was, naturally, quite pissed I was stealing the limelight.

On Cinco de Drinko last year, almost all the women I've come to love in this little life of mine gathered into one beautiful room. It was a great gift. It is something I treasure everyday. It is worthy of celebrating. Those moments in that evening have lingered longer than any tequila hangover ever could. Gloria santos!



Sigh... This year there is no Cadillac, my right hand is missing a margarita, I gave up tequila shots shortly after the first one and I miss my dear mexicana. She is close to the Motherland of Mexico and I am a gulf away (in fact there is not even a blender or washing machine close by.)

Instead of celebrating Mexico today, I am going to celebrate my dear mexicana. She is a deep soul, a good time, and a person of warmth and life... she finds joy and she looks for good... and she is so beautiful. I am blessed because this is the legacy women have poured into my life. Praise be.

Open Letter to Visa Inc. From Bono

Dear Ned D'Young, Head of Collection, Visa Inc.

So, there you are Ned. You who have come to square off with, step up to the plate with, finish the drink at the bar and stumble outside with a short Irishman, whose mouth often outruns his ability to follow up, show up, buck up, put the dukes up and scrap. You see, perhaps Irish blokes weren't meant to end up in the south of France, with houses on hills overlooking oceans. It seems that if there was any legacy of fisticuffs running through these mick veins, the servants and limos, private jets and caviar have thinned it far too much for it to be formidable.
But push a man far enough, even a squatty Irish one, and he may just break. The Common Sense of Tommy Pain, King and his dream, Mandela's and Tutu's Africa, all a result of men who were pushed. But the difference between men like these and the likes of the Irish lies in the subtle difference between a push back and the simple suggestion of something radical. In this, perhaps I am fortunate that the slow soak of fortune has softened my thick Dubliner' hide.

You see, I won't push back Ned. I've grown too soft for that. Besides, squaring off against the likes of the Lenons, the Mcartneys, the Jaggers, the Townsends is one thing. But a punk-rock star versus the likes of Visa? I'm afraid I've been writing chart busting pop tunes while you've been literally writing the book on APR and cash-back penalties. No Ned, pushing is not the answer. A push back would leave me decimated like the young girl in Somalia beaten and drugged by democratically funded warlords. Pushing back would leave me dead on the street outside an H-bloc. Pushing back would leave me starving in Abuja while politicians in Nigeria get head from multinational corporations like Shell Oil.
But if not a push then what? Ahhh, welcome to the radical Ned. Radical ideas from radical people all tied to a radius of love. Radical is the kids at Tianamen standing in the face of tanks. Radical is Dr. King sitting as Jim Clark set the dogs on him, forever changing the face of the civil rights movement in America. Radical is a Christ forgiving the very mob that tossed him to his murder.

Radical Ned, tied to a radius of love. Radical, is what I propose today. No shouting. No fighting. No bullying. Simply, radical. A radical elimination of debt. A cancellation of an amount owed. A year of jubilee.

Namely the 3,467.50 owed on my Visa Premium card, along with the 7% interest rate increase scheduled to take effect at the end of the quarter.

And as always, history hinges on the response of the masses, or in this case, the Greater San Fernando and Co. Collection Agency. And you, Ned. You. In the face of radical, how is it you will respond.

Throwing this lifeless lifeline to the wind,
Bono

The Return!

"No. Not today amigos. Today, the Speedy One seets. I seet for Mexico. I seet for mice. I seet so they will take notice."

"But what of that gato? Who weel protect us?"

"Do not fear the gato. Not today amigos. Today it is he who cuts the grass of the gringos."

(explosion of applause)

Como? Part 1

Hola amigos. I am starting URG's second [editorial correction] blog series... Como? There are many things I enjoy about this little country, such as the view at lunch yesterday...









There are many things I simply find ridiculous. There are many things that I really just cannot find, or find words for. I am quite aware there is probably a large degree of information lost in translation which results in my response of Como?. So I remain open to your wizened perspectives and opinions throughout. Please... if at any point in this series you figure out what the smack is going on... share.

US troops presence protested, 18 hurt in Barahona
BARAHONA, DR. - Eighteen people, among them two journalists, were wounded yesterday when local police dispersed a protest march that demanded U.S. troops be removed from their city.
The group of protesters was intercepted by local police, commanded at first by a colonel who after the incidents withdrew, leaving the contingent in charge of a major.
The march organized by the city’s anti-imperialist committee began, only to be stopped by police about 500 meters from the 5th Infantry Brigade base, where the American troops are staying and working in the completion of four health centers.
Carrying placards and repeating slogans, the demonstrators demanded the retirement of Americans, whom have been working on the Health Centers construction for the last three months. As the march made its way, many people came out on their house's porch and shouted: "Yankee get out of Quisqueya".
as reported on Dominican Today

Um, Huh? Wait... you don't want the Health Center built? Okay. Si. Si. You want the Imperialist Americans who are BUILDING HEALTH CENTERS to go home? Right. Right. Como que? Oh, you find health centers scary. Oh Okay, I get it.

oh, oswald

"The great point of Abraham's faith in God was that he was there to obey God, no matter if it went against his own beliefs. Abraham was not a devotee of his convictions, or he would have slain Issac and said that
the voice of the angel was the voice of the devil."

Holy crap old oswald is right! I do this. God says something to you and then no matter what it becomes the only thing He is ever allowed to say. Any change, any alteration, any movement away from those words in stone is blasphmy, rebellion and disobedience... even the words of the Lord's own messengers. sheesh. How much of an idol do I make of His Words over His Voice and the movement of His Holy Spirit?

How does Oswald always seem to do this?

Lord save me in ways that surprise me.

"...God will lead you straight through every barrier into the inner chamber of the knowledge of Himself; but there is always this point of giving up convictions and traditional beliefs."

Does the devil make shorts?

look, I know things are messed up. chaos abounds. evil attacks. marc antony sings. I realized there is a prince of darkness coming up with some damn good plans, hell bent on murdering righteousness, thieving birthrights, and destroying heart and soul. what i DON'T understand is the fact that these shorts cost $70.

The Line Between This Generation's Art and Bad Wedding Reception Music Turns Out To Be Quite Thin.

There was funky China men/ from funky Chinatown
They were trapping them up/They were trapping them down
It's an ancient Chinese art/And everybody knew their part
From a fainting, to a slip/And a kickin' from the hip

Everybody was Kung Fu fighting
Those kids were fast as lightning
In fact it was a little bit fright'ning
But they fought with expert timing

There was funky Billie Jim and little Sammy Chong
He said, here comes the big boss/ let's get it on
We took the bow and made a stand/Started swaying with the hand
A sudden motion made me skip/Now we're into a brand new trip

Everybody was Kung Fu fighting
Those kids were fast as lightning
In fact it was a little bit fright'ning
But they did it with expert timing


and


Her name is Yoshimi/she's a black belt in karate
Working for the city/she has to discipline her body
Cause she knows that/it's demanding/to defeat theseEvil machines
I know she can beat them

Oh Yoshimi/They don't believe me
But you won't let those Robots defeat me
Oh Yoshimi/They don't believe me
But you won't let thoseRobots eat me

Those evil natured robots/they're programmed toDestroy us
She's gotta be strong to fight them/So she's taking lots of vitamins
Cause she knows that/It'd be tragic if those evil robots win
I know She can beat them.

Oh Captain...

If while minding your own business one day, a professional sports franchise should happen to fall in your lap, do not fret. Here is a most blessed example of what to do with a group of big sweaty men.

Cuban continues to run his team from the bleachers. I've heard it said that if fans got to call the shots it would be the death of the franchise. If that is the case, you have sum splainin to do:

Since purchasing the team in the midst of the 1999/2000 season, the team has responded to Cuban with nothing but winning: 30-18 in the second half of that season including a 9-1 record in April that year.

Since 2001, the team has not missed the playoffs. Prior to that year Dallas had experienced an 11 year playoff drought. That's a decade plus one people. In the run since Cuban's purchase, the team has experienced its best season ever (60-22 in 02/03), had their first player ever named to all-NBA honors (Dirk Nowitzki, 00/01) and moved into a new venue. This year coach Avery Johnson and Dirk are atop Coach of the Year and MVP balloting respectively.

His fines from officials sometimes top seven figures annually. He gives out his email address at games and answers most that are sent to him, with many unique details of the American Airlines Center (the 4-sided shotclock) coming in response to fan requests.

Cuban has made Maverick's games the place to be in the chilly months of Dallas. It took one game to get me hooked. In my first NBA experience ever I watched the Mav's slap around Koby and the Lakers for four quarters. The next day I was online shopping for a slick tee with which to announce my new found allegiance.

And as if that was not enough of a shining resume for Cuban, last night he went and did this.

My god. I went to a fan appreciation night once. I got a can coozy. What'd you get?

It Doesn't Help Mommy If Daddy Eats It

Tom,

Enough. Please, please, please go away. And don't piss on my carpet on the way out.

Sincerely,

CZ

2006 Pickins

There are those of you that belittle the game. There are those of you that just flat out don't like it.

Great. It is not my job to defend it.

That job is left to the pale skinned and cliched poets and writers, most of whom have never played, chewed, scratched, or stood in while a grown man throws a cork wrapped in string wrapped in rawhide at you as hard as he possibly can, leaving you with a wapping 150 milliseconds to see the ball, identify spin and predict its path and tell your brain to react by swinging a two pound object at a speed of 80 mph, exerting at least nine horsepower, which also happens to take you a wapping 150 milliseconds, leaving you, um, zero milliseconds to actually think about any of it.

It's like the tree and the hippie, are baseball players and baseball philosophers. The hippie chains himself to the tree and begins to scream and shout about the injustice heaped upon the tree. But somehow, the picture cannot ever look anything but absurd and you know that if the tree could somehow speak his mind he would, and it would sound something like:

"What the are you doing chaining yourself to me. Have you fooled yourself into believing that you have some kind of empathy towards me. If so, where is your bark? Where are your leaves little human. Where are your deep roots that not only determine what, but where you are until the day you die? Go and do something human little human. And no, I will not defend myself when you leave. It is not in my nature. My nature, silly little one, is to be a tree, and thus I cannot be offended by what the likes of your kind do to me."

Do not ask a ballplayer for a poem about baseball. Ask him for a ninety feet sprint in under three seconds and contact on the hit and run. Don't ask the oldtimers for some "between the white lines" wisdom either, because they haven't ceased to be ballplayers, they've just become shitty ones and you're just reminding them of that sad arthritic truth.

So with that said, I'll talk some baseball with you the reader; devoid, of course of philosophy or verse, but rather with the sharp 12-6 snap of cynicism that only those of us whom the game has turned its back on have learned to hurl towards home.


1. There are existing proofs that prolonged exposure to the game does not in fact give one some kind of mystical wisdom.

Despite this proof however, the AL Wildcard goes to the Texas Rangers.

2. The Dominican Republic has voted to approve plans on the construction of a subway in Santo Domingo in hopes to stop mass emigration to New York.

The New York Mets, however continue to encourage immigration by guaranteeing a roster spot to any and all Dominicans under the age of sixty. Caribbean baseball is good for the Big Apple though, as the NL Wildcard goes to the Mets.

3. The little guy in The Untouchables kept pushing to bust Capone on tax evasion...

In what you might call my stone cold lead pipe pick of the 2006 season, Elliot Ness returns with his madcap squad of federal enforcers to take down Barry Bonds once and for good-god all. In an ironic twist, the arrest is staged on the very night Bonds will pass the homer total of Ness' favorite ballplayer, George Herman Ruth, who in another ironic twist, looks a hellova lot like Al Capone.

But with Bonds out of the way the rest of the NL Divisions shape up with the Padres, Cardinals and Braves as winners.

4. For the pick in the AL East, I turn things over to my wife.*

"Who do you like in the East baby?"

"The Yankees"

"Way to go out on a limb sweetbean. What lead you to such a pick?"

"Their new lead-off hitter Matt Damon."

So its the Yankees in the AL East. And remember Boston, it's not your fault. It's not your fault. Hey, it's not your fault.

(* based on actual events.)

5. With two of America's gems ,Cleveland and Minneapolis, any attempts at wit regarding the AL Central are futile. Chicago Whitesox.

6. West coast games start at ten p.m. were I live. Oakland A's.

7. Pujols will hit 57 homers this year, point to the sky after the first 22, until God himself finally says once and for all, "Yes Albert you hit better than I do. Stop pointing at me." Good enough for an NL MVP though.
8. Alex Rodriguez bats .400, with 73 homers and 200 rbi's, cures four major communicable diseases and ends African debt and yet we all continue to hate him. For the love people, he's your AL MVP.

9. And just so you know, Im taking the Mavs to win it all.

The Reason I Generally Remember To Put Pants On And Have Yet To Be Killed By Some Kind Of Home Appliance

My wife is the one in the green. Look at her. Bright, beautiful smile. Kind, attentive, compassionate eyes. And then there's me. Mostly confused.

My sweetie has been poured out like malt liquor at a hip-hop funeral this year. And with little to no thanks. Baby, the Mera's might not appreciate you, but I sure do.

Marriage

okay.. for those of you looking soon to marriage, Costa Rica is a nice thought. Even if your not looking to marriage... I recommend Costa Rica (only for those already well travelled in Dominican land).

Check it out: http://www.costarica2.com/albums/ky-cale

Many cheers to my sweet little cousin Cale and his stunning wife Ky! The Lord bless you and keep you...

Please Go Home Carny

And with last night's stunning loss at the hands of UCLA, Adam Morrison returns to what he knows best. The Waxachie County Fair. He runs the Zipper.

Fran and T.O....B.F.F.

Official press release transcript from the Dallas Cowboys Football Organization.

Owner, Jerry Jones:
"Well we took a good hard look at this football team and determined that since Michael retired to pursue a broadcasting career, the Cowboys had simply lacked that element of pompous, womanizing, jackassed behavior that had become our signature. We thought perhaps Keshawn was the answer, but as it turned out he tended more towards a jr. high type jackassness than the full blown manly boorish behavior this organization needed. Look, the bottom line is this...when an individual the likes of Michael Irvin vouches personally for someone, it's just hard to pass up. And with that, I'll turn things over to T.O., who I believe has prepared a statement in the form of a dope rap."

Transcripts from Owen's "dope rap":
"All you suckas in Philly thought I wouldn't get my money/well I'm in Dallas now, ha ain't that funny! Gone from green and white to the gray and blue/gonna do it now, like Ray Charles used to do!"

(When asked to explain the comparison of his football skills to a blind and dead R&B performer, T.O. offered no comment.)


Which of course leads us to the celebration of my dear and wonderful mother.







Today is my mom's birthday.



So here's to the woman who still plays catch with me from time to time. Here's to the woman who's overworked and underpaid. Here's to the woman who taught me the value of prayer, with (literally) a worn spot on the carpet next to her bed from her knees. Here's to the woman who persevered with a son who loves rock and roll perhaps a tad too much. Here's to the woman who at the age of ___ got herself a passport and flew to a third world country to visit her son and daughter in law. Here's to the woman who's coming back in two weeks. Here's to the woman who inspires me every single day with her love and desire to never, ever stop hearing from the Lord. Here's to the woman who, unlike T.O. is never boorish or African American for that matter, but when pressed, has been known to bust out with her very own dope rap.

Today's comment page is reserved for her. Share the birthday love!

Ch, ch, ch, Changes.

This was a recent few from our Las Hortensias rooftop... further proof that the Creator of the world really likes Jesse and I.

You might have noticed (to the right) that our address has changed. [It then proceeded to change again because I put the wrong zip code on the first change.] We have not moved... make no mistake. Our mail carrier may have moved to a different hanger in a different city, nonetheless...
God, we are still here in Las Hortensias so keep sending the good stuff.

The rest of you can send the necessities stuff... like Dr. Pepper, peanut butter and DiGornio grated parmesan cheese. Gracias.

Same Guise (Clever!)

For Stevie who seems to just like this sort of thing...



and


(comparison based on urine samples)

...and for Ace, who is mostly communist and prefers a sport that encourages crime, ankle injuries and the use of illegal drugs as opposed to a sport that has everything to offer, including perfectly legal substances intended for livestock and infertile women. I mean c'mon...




and

The Best Dressed of Dia de la Indepencia

Ladies and Gentleman... I know you. I know you've looked and surmised the frills and frocks of The Oscars. The sexy, the scandelous and scantily clad, maybe refreshed with one or two people who perhaps covered themselves in taste. I know you, but I know not what you have seen for The Oscars visually elludeds us.. as Lost and 24 have gone and done before it. HOWEVER... I can and I will bring you in its place The Best Dressed of Dia de la Indepencia.


Rowdy Red.
Whether in a subtle paisely or a vivid akward splash, red was the color of the night (uh, day). The perfect color to offset the king of accessories in any country... the cowboy hat.




A Wifebeater with Overall Buckles Combo was the choice for Those Who Dare.
"We were trying to stay true to the spirit of the movie," remarked Alajandro and Miguel. "Yeah, Brokeback Mountain was, commo like, mad yo."




But the overall winner, who continues to redefine style time and time again.....

SPIDEY!

Can You Help Dwight Schrute?

"Question...Recently acquired a dvd copy of 'Sales and Selling: How To Kill The Competition Literally'...I would like to transfer the audio from said dvd onto my ipod. How do I go about doing that?'

"Easy. Just download the movie onto your itunes and import it into your ipod Dwight."

"Mmhm. Question. How do I do it if I don't have a video ipod?"

"Oh. Um. You may have to ask all your blogger friends."

"Typical"

"Excuse me?"

"Question. Do you want to form... an alliance?"


Can you help Dwight? And if you say "buy a video ipod", trust me, you will be on the wrong side of Schrute.

A Clear And Present Danger

"David, you made it, good. Do you think you were followed?"

"No sir. There was a scorpion for a while but I lost him at the fence."

"Christ man! Are you okay?"

"It's nothing new. Comes with the territory."

"Well don't mess with Texas I guess. David, how's Kathy, ...and the little ones?"

"Fine sir."

"Good. I'm anxious to see them again."

"Mr. President, did you ask me here tonight to discuss my wife and kids?"

"Ahh...David, ever the 'action man'."

"It's what you pay me for sir."

"Right, right. Well, David, its just a nasty situation for all involved."

"Nasty...Mr. President, have you seen the press? There's an insurgence brewing. I think we passed 'nasty' months ago."

"I've read the goddamn papers David! Just remember who's neck is on the line here! I made promises David! Promises I intend to keep. It's your job too you know."

"Actually sir the polls have no baring on my employment what-so-ever."

"Right, well I guess that's precisely what makes you fit to do what it is you do."

"Mr. President, for the preservation of your administration, let alone your personal safety, its best that you know nothing of what it is I do."

"Well that brings us to it then, the 'preservation of the administration'. David, every day that Gonzales is allowed to be in operation, illegal trafficking is on the rise. The economy is shot to hell. Unemployment is skyrocketing. My administration...I, not to put to fine a point on it, am made to look more and more like a blubbering fool with every shipment of cheddar he brings across the border. When they laughed at the cat, it was one thing. I could laugh with them..."

"Until you let the press link him to this office."

"And the whole thing only made him more of a hero, I know, I know! But their were cogs in place that fell for that."

"Cutter, Ritter...by my count you're running low on cogs sir."

"GODDAMMIT!!! Why does he have to be so fucking fast!"

"They all have bare spots Mr. President...the rabbit, the bird, the skunk. The word is Gonzales' weak link is women. He is 'friends to everyone's seester', they say."

"Well, something has to be done David, something."

"What is it you're saying sir."

"Exactly what needs to be said and nothing more. (deep breath) Senior Gonzales represents a clear and present danger to this nation and its mice."

"Very good Mr. President."