Christmas time has come and gone and all I have is a lousy t-shirt

I remember a long time ago when I was just a small child, a happy time of songs, smells and sights.

My heart would skip a beat at the mention of this magical time.
Everyone you knew from mean old man upstairs to your best friends actually became nicer. I mean really nice.

People would say please and thank you. Total strangers would wish you a good day, and the smell of spiced cakes and pies were everywhere.

And this is is sunny Los Angeles.

People where just happier back then, or so I remember.

Of course I'm talking about Christmas past...

I have just survived another budget busting, blood pressure popping, big o' piece of steaming reindeer turd of a holiday.

Am I ever glad its over.

Christmas has lost all its shiny luster this year. I have been yelled at by old ladies. Harassed by skater punks and insulted by sales people as they make off the cuff remarks about my choice of "gifts" to my loved ones.

Mmmmmmm beeerrrr!

I like beer. I love beer.

I wan't to be buried encased in a giant bottle of beer with a best before this date sticker.

I love beer so much I wrote a haiku to celebrate:

Ahem!

The serene purity of beer

Look how it happily fizzes and pops

so much joy I cry

This past forth of July weekend I got a chance through work to tour the facilities of on of my favorite little Microbreweries, Craftsman Brewery. Thi place was found in a garage of a former JPL worker Mark Jilg, and yes ladies and gentleman he was a rocket scientist at one time.

The place was full of giant brew kettles, fermenters, kegs full o'beer. I almost teared up it was so simply and beautiful.

Burn the House Down (aka I'm never Buying Anything at Home Depot Again!!)

I feel crappy.

I have had buzzing in my head for over a week now. Stoopid head…

My wife bought me a gas barbecue grill for papa’s day. No, I am not a father. I’d hate to think what kind of dad I would be if I was. I’d probably be one of those weirdo Vincent Price type dad who’s children grow up to be fascist Republican’s just to rebel against their father.

Shiver….

But any way my wife said that we had some money to burn (Aha! literally) and that she wanted me to get a gas grill for our patio. Oh, the joy, the rapture!!! I was to join my ancient ancestors in the art of charring meat to an unrecognizable lump of carbon. Sp began my task of shopping and comparing grills and I decided to go to the Home Depot to purchase it as they had a grill that would offer me the biggest bang for my buck. I arrived at the Downey store and asked the indifferent woman who was working the department. She looked at me as said “You are going to have to wait as I am swamped.” Ok, I can understand that but after waiting twenty minutes I was starting to get miffed. I finally got a clueless looking assistant to start looking for the grill and that went nowhere as they did not have the grill in stock and wouldn’t have until next Monday. I asked if they could call the store in Monrovia (as it was reasonably close to my house) to see if they had any in stock. He did and told me that according to the stock clerk they had 23 in stock. 23 in stock!!! So off I went to Monrovia to pick up my grill.

I arrived at the Monrovia store. Found another haggard employee, was told to wait as she would send someone over to help, waited, meet the assistant and he began to search for the grill. Remember that they told me at the Downey store that the Monrovia store had 23 grills in stock. I was told that they had no such grill in stock. Beyond pissed I commented that on the phone that this store had 23 in #$^%$ stock and that I had driven all the way from Downey. The Home Depot employee unmoved and told me too bad, I should have had the stock clerk to check visually as the one listed on their system may be the one yet to be unpacked from the stock area. Those grills were not going to be unpacked until Saturday afternoon at the latest and that the only way was to have will call, call me if they were the ones I was looking for.

I walked to will call with the grill SKU number told them my story. The nice stock clerk was incensed at my story, took my SKU number and told me to wait. After ten minutes she came over and apologized as she could not find any even though her system said she had 3 in stock. She told me that I probably would be better of finding the grill I needed from someone else as this is unfortunately too common an occurrence.

After that debacle I made up my mind to never again set foot in a Home Depot went to OSH and found the runner up grill that I had also researched. It only took five minutes to purchase the gleaming stainless steel beauty and have it sent to my car. Hmmmm…

Anywho, I spent the next day assembling my grill which kinda looks like a demented R2-D2 and proceeded to test fire it and picked a piece of salmon as my first sacrifice to Kwaj, god of fire.

I burnt that fishy to a crisp…

Muwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha, cough, ack…

The crazy wacky white bread world of Minneapolis, MN

I’ve recently been sitting around and musing about what I have learned after voyaging to my youngest brothers wedding in Minneapolis…

 

This part of the country is actually very picturesque, green and beautiful with a great sense on architecture and style.

 

Then why is it that I hated every minute of it???

 

I think my new sister in-law summed it up best.

 

Welcome to Minneapolis, land of ten thousand lakes and ten thousand rehab centers.

 

Everywhere I looked in this burg I found bar, after bar, after, mega liquor mart, after overpriced coffee shop.  Geezus!

 

And don’t even get me started on the minister (Who was married!) who kept hitting on my wife (Who was sitting next to me!!) all during the rehearsal dinner.

 

Or the colony of perfect Stepford women who have made this city their central hive.

 

Makes me appreciate what I have here in crowded and corrupt sunny California.

On Culture and Soft Shell Crabs

It’s my Birthday.

 

And oddly I feel ok…

 

It’s an uncharacteristically gloomy, soggy day here in Los Angeles. It’s quiet and uninteresting and that’s just fine. Just the kind of day you want to have on your natal day. Go figure.

 

But anywho back to the story.

 

My wife was sitting in a meeting yesterday when she heard the following…

 

Small asian woman at work: “You don’t want marry a Mexican. All you’ll get to eat are tacos and burritos.”

 

My wife was flabbergasted! My wife who married a Mexican! Who has to beg, plead, and make bodily threats so that I can make her a real Mexican diner.

 

Response from small ANGRY wife at work: “Are you kidding me! My husband wants to eat anything other than Mexican whenever he gets a chance!”

 

Small asian woman: “Huh???”

 

Wife: “My husband LOVES Japanese, Chinese, French, Thai, Southern, Outer Mongolian and Inner Mongolian. There isn’t a cuisine (Maybe Chilean and Guatemalan) he doesn’t like. He grew up eating Mexican food and likes it but he’s become enamored with every other cultures food. For goodnes sakes, he’s learning to use some God awful contraption to make his own Sea Salt for Parisian Mussels!!!”

 

Small fearful asian woman who now has the fear of God in her: “Huh???”

Age & Ambivelance

My birthday is coming up soon.

 

I will be turning 30.  I’m not going to lie and say that I’m looking forward to it and in fact I’m feeling very ambivalent about the whole thing.

 

*Sigh*

 

In the meantime I got a copy of one of my all time favorite games.  Final Fantasy VI is about as old school as you can get.  I plopped this little gem into my old Playstation and about three hours latter my wife woke up and told me it was 1:00 am.

 

Reminds me of the old times.

 

 

Moises

Introduction

Hello,

Welcome to the craziness that is my life.

In case you didn’t know (How could you. You probably came across this site
late at night while suffering the ill affects of a cheet-os induced
hallucination after watching late night television and checking in on the
one of a kind Elvis Presley on velvet portrait you’ve been tracking on eBay)
I am Moises Gomez.

A disaffected, underachieving and woefully underpaid brown schmuck living on
this orb we call home. I hope that you as a reader are not expecting some
world changing, mind expanding musings, instead what you will find is a
hopefully funny commentary about the little section of Earth I live on.

To begin with, I am what many people call a “Mexican” also known as a
“Mexican-American” or “of Mexican Descent”.

I work in a restaurant. No, I am not a cook.

It is a funny thing, if you are brown skinned and mention that you work in
the restaurant business everyone assumes that you work in the kitchen.
After I mention that I work in the accounting office it is almost a thrill
to see the embarrassment flash on peoples faces. I am a bean counter and a
computer nerd. Both cheered and reviled in my industry, but more about that
later.

I am married to a girl I do not deserve and to all you fuckers in high
school who use to say “You can’t even get a girlfriend let alone ever get
married”. Screw you all. ^_^

I stand in a place that many of my fellow up and coming brown folks find
themselves, not quite accepted in American culture but you really can not
call me a Mexican either. An amalgam that is not easily accepted from
either side but who is forced upon either side to “deal with”. I like to
watch the people squirm. Weird, maybe, entertaining, absolutely.

Here you will find many of my observation and commentary so check your egos
at the door and bring a big o' piece of salt and enjoy the ride.

Moises

"Better than a kick in the head" - Dean Martin

Testing, 1, 2, 3...

Wohoo! The blog is live and ready to begin publishing my warped view of the world.

MUWA HA HA HA HA HA! *cough* *ack*

Ahem! Keep an eye open for my next post.

Moises

“Better than a kick in the head” – Dean Martin