I hate it when a break up ruins a perfectly good album. During my first split I was forced to part with my dear Lucinda. Everything on Essence held a little too much truth. I still listen to Lonely Girls behind the safety of my palm.

Recently my entire collection has been demolished. Every new album is tasting a little bit like orange juice and toothpaste. Especially this one. seriously. ouch.

It's Over Rodrigo

ssss....sizzle sizzle. mmmm, it reminds me of throwing a juicy ribeye on the grill in the backyard while i hopped up and down and warmed myself over the little steak bonfire since my mom loved a good bbq any time of year even if it meant that i was forced to warm my face next to the coals and my hair would smell singed throughout dinner and like dinner the next morning.

...sizzle sizzle...it also reminds me of the noise that the AC portal of my computer is making. mmmm, it smells like corroded triple A batteries warmed over that same grill.

if anyone has a functional to semi-functional computer or access to discounts or pantyhose and a gun, please let me know.

My Fate

I blame life on my parents. I rarely call them and don't give them enough credit. So much so that I am treating them as any other social members of my life by involving myself in their lives distantly, detached and secretly. In the wee hours of the night while listening to my mp3 of the week repeatedly for literally hours on end, I google random things and people while passively absorbing every detail. Today I decided to google Mr. and Mrs. Alexa's Parents. I was skeptical if they would register within the world wide web since the computer in our house only serves to keep up with the technological Jones and to prove we aren't communists. But I suppose they do exist in reality. Though my parents would most likely not want to be associated with anything on this page other than donated genetics and I would not like to shame them any further, the results are amusing and amazing:

Mama Lim - I always said if I wanted to be President of San Antonio, my mom had the right connections. Too bad I would survive as long as William Henry Harrison or pray for my John Wilkes Booth to rescue me. Anywho, my mom actually did quite a bit in the community
Unsung Hero.

Alex Sr. - He is the nut job that I take after exactly. Giant fish lips, horrible nose, inappropriate sense of humor and all.
- the King of the Westside of San Antonio
-these are actually who my dad's best friends are
-lovely, but not as great as his op-ed piece to the SA Express News, which made perfect sense to those he loved

nice.