Best joke of the night! Thank you TINA Fey! #tinafey #goldenglobes #leonardodicaprio #accurate
Best joke of the night! Thank you TINA Fey! #tinafey #goldenglobes #leonardodicaprio #accurate
OH MY GOD
OMG, HE’S HELPING HIM BACK INTO THE OCEAN
i officially like animals more than people
(Source: , via angelmcastillo)
Despair turned to anger as those responsible weren’t held accountable. The warehouse that burned down was owned by the government, and the daycare center itself was guilty of some palm-greasing to skate by some regulations in order to operate (for example, not enough fire exits), so people expected some degree of accountability. As corrupt as Mexico is, those responsible for a tragedy of this magnitude where 49 innocent children lost their lives wouldn’t walk away unscathed, would they? Well, it turns out they did. So far, the only people who have been arrested for this horrific event are people whose only mistake was doing their job - low level types who had nothing to do with the bribes and payoffs that led to this daycare center operating when it should’ve been shut down a long time ago.
Even though this happened more than 2 years ago, it is still an extremely sensitive subject here in town. We are all angry and sad that something like that happened here, and that the government covered it up as only they can here in Mexico. The assholes who are truly responsible for this are nowhere to be found, people know who they are, but they’re free to go on about their lives with complete impunity. I hope their dreams are haunted though. I’m sure none of them wanted this to happen of course, but they are responsible and should be held accountable for being fucking greedy.
A few days ago, I was looking on my Facebook feed and saw that a friend had posted a video of a mexican comedian doing his act with the title: “FUCK YOU PLATANITO YOU CAN’T JOKE ABOUT THAT, GO TO HELL, ARRGH” (or something like that).
"Platanito" means "little banana" and is a character created by a Mexican actor who tells filthy jokes on stage in a clown costume. (When I first saw this guy on TV I immediately thought of Yukko the Clown and briefly pondered if Yukko could sue him, but then realized that I was thinking of Yukko the Clown for some fucking reason and immediately stopped thinking about Yukko the fucking Clown.) This guy is known for telling dirty jokes, and he hosts a very popular talk show (don’t ask*) on our version of MTV where all he does is hang around chicks in thongs and tell dirty jokes, occasionally having a guest on to interview. So the dude is known for being dirty and out of control.
Pictured: Dirty clown.
When I clicked on the aforementioned video, it was a clip of one of Platanito’s live shows. It wasn’t from his TV show, and it looks like maybe 2 or 3 hundred people were in the audience. He’s rambling on his rapid-fire type of way, and he throws in that Michael Jackson died because he was anxious to get to heaven since a daycare center had burned down in Hermosillo. He went on to say that where the daycare center had been replaced by a new joint called “Kentucky Fried Children,” and that was it. The whole clip lasted less than a minute.
But what a shitstorm it caused.
My initial reaction was anger. There are lines that you shouldn’t cross, Platanito! Fuck you! How dare you joke about this horrific event?! I immediately shared the video on my Facebook Timeline with the caption: “Asshole” and watched as it made the rounds. The twitterverse (fuck that word) exploded with anti-Platanito hashtags, and it seemed everybody from Sonora and Mexico was enraged. Images were made where Platanito’s head was put in the crossfires of a rifle, with the caption: “Platanito, Sonora welcomes you” and I’m sure a lot of similar stuff was created as well. People were posting all kind of crazy shit on Facebook, threatening everything from boycotts to protests to kicking the dude’s ass to killing him. Of course, all of this was on Facebook and Twitter, so take it for what it’s worth.
Honestly, I was shocked by my own visceral reaction. I was very angry. I was fucking incensed. The day that fire broke out, I was on my way out of town (it was a Friday) so I didn’t know the extent of what happened until much later. Then I started to hear the horror stories and the hero stories and the pictures that came out of this were awful and heart-wrenching. These children died a horrible death, completely undeserved, and caused by assholes who cut corners to make some extra money. A feeling of helplessness came over me as I thought of those poor children and their families and all the suffering they were going through.
And I think that, more than anything, is the root of our anger. Mexicans are empathetic and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one whose heart wasn’t breaking for each and every one of those poor families. I know people who didn’t lose a loved one in the tragedy but who still cry every day for those poor kids, and who are even angrier than parents who were left childless after this. That empathy is one of the more awesome things about our culture and something I’m very proud of.
But there’s also this.
Mexicans are known to have a strong, black, sexist, and - what some might consider to be - racist sense of humor. I’m more in tune with the gringo sense of humor because of my upbringing, but I do understand and will laugh at inappropriate mexican jokes, no doubt about that. Mexican jokes mock other cultures, races, religions, homosexuality, anything that a lot of people around the world would consider highly offensive. Jokes target victims of natural disasters, like Haiti or Japan or the Indian Ocean tsunami or anything. And I admit that I laugh at a lot of those jokes. Shit, if it’s funny, I’ll laugh at anything. I know how to tell the difference when somebody’s joking because I’m an intelligent fucking adult. But this! Fuck this guy! Really!
Amidst all the rage ON THE INTERNET, some people pointed out that there have been tons of jokes made about Haiti, or about Japan, or about places where a lot more people have senselessly been killed and that we don’t say shit about it and aren’t offended. Damn, they’re right. I’m sure people in Haiti or Japan are offended though, wouldn’t you agree? Although who knows with the Japanese, they’re fucking weird. But yeah, of course they would be offended. Of course people who’ve lost people in a horrific tragedy would be offended with jokes made at their expense. That’s a ridiculous argument to make.
The anger grows exponentially because it happened in our own backyard. It grows even more when reality hits us again and we realize that the assholes responsible for this, who are all millionaires because of shitty daycares they own that they run for the government (the government pays for this, and they pay a whole lot), and who cut corners, bribing who knows who to save a buck.. those fuckers are living their lives as if nothing happened. Even though the blood of 49 innocent children is on their hands, they are still free.
"Platanito" has since posted what appears to be a sincere video apology, going so far as to remove his wig and fake nose dramtically and speaking AS THE REAL PERSON, not the character. He goes through all the necessary steps, saying all the right things, mentioning that the network had nothing to do with this (A-HA), and of course mentioning all the wonderful things he does for childrens’ charities. Pandering, questionable motives ($), and unnecessary dramatic effects aside, the dude seemed genuinely sorry and ashamed for the joke, and it takes balls to own up in the face of such massive public disdain. In truth, I thought he would just give the finger to the whole thing and laugh it off, or not respond as quickly. Instead, he posted his apology the very next day, which is admirable (I guess).
Whether this guy’s career is over or not makes no difference to me at all. I’ve never watched his show, and the few clips I’ve seen of his act have made me chuckle at best. I know a lot of people who are fans though, and the dude gets great ratings for his stuff, tours constantly, and has made a killing with this dirty clown act. More power to him. He found a way, which is something that a lot of us can hope of doing someday.
We have a short-term memory here and I’m sure that in a few months “Platanito” and his stupid joke won’t be nothing but an afterthought. He probably won’t come back to town for a long time (that would take tremendous balls if he did), if at all, so we’ll stop caring about his schtick.
Overall, I’m proud of the way people in my state reacted to this. Proud because the anger at this horrific tragedy still exists, even though it was misguided for a few crazy hours yesterday. Proud because that sense of unity and empathy we all felt that fateful day in 2009 is still there. Proud we still care about those 49 kids and we still have their backs. And as long as the fuckers responsible for this are still out there, I’m sure that unity and anger will persist. The sorrow for those lost children and the anger that the government covered up the whole thing and life just went on as if nothing had happened will continue to be in all of us as long as justice isn’t served. The sad part is that will probably never happen and that innocent people will spend many years in jail because of this, while the real criminals walk free.
Watch out. Don’t fuck with our 49 lost children, because hell will be unleashed.
Hey, did you hear that one about Haiti?
My hometown is also a border town, so those kinds of stories are also very common. Drug cartels want control of the border so only their shit gets through, and they’re willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen. It’s always been this way of course, only now it’s become a lot more violent, and a lot more public. Narcos are very adept at using today’s technology as an attempt to intimidate and terrorize their enemies, and of course terrorize everybody else. A few months ago that sort of thing was readily available in a very popular blog here, which would receive these pictures and videos directly from the narcos themselves, at least according to the blog’s creator. And there it was, right out in the open for everybody to see. I’ve seen some cray shit, man. Remember that 14 year old hitman who was arrested here a while back? Yeah, there’s videos of him torturing and murdering, sure. Want to see somebody get decapitated? Want to see somebody get their genitals chopped off with a machete? Or how about a woman decapitaing a dude, while other dudes encourage her and teach her exactly how to do it? All the while, these guys are laughing and joking with the woman, saying things like: “Whoever marries you will have to be careful!”
I wish I was making this up.
Thankfully, that particular website has removed their content from public viewing and you need to go through a registration process in order to access most of it. I know it’s real easy to fake a website registration, and everybody does it, but for me it’s not worth the trouble of registering just to see narcos killing and torturing other narcos, or see pictures of crime scenes or autopsies or whatever the fuck. I think these websites beefed up their registration and security policies because people who warn people and reveal the identities of narcos, or even those who simply blog about this sort of thing have been found mutilated and tortured as well. In one case, a popular female blogger was hung from a highway bridge, disemboweled. Yep.
I moved out of my hometown to my current city when I graduated high school, which was 17 years ago (fuck, I’m old). Back then, it was nothing like this. You could still go out, you basically knew everybody, everything was cool. You were scared of the typical street gangs more than anything else, and you knew that if you stayed out of certain parts of the city you would be fine. Things have changed though, and now when I go back I hardly leave my house. You don’t know where shit is going to happen, because now these guys don’t care. Before, they would keep it amongst themselves, and we would just look the other way and pretend it wasn’t happening. But now, they don’t care who’s in the way or what time of the day it is or where they are. If they want to get you, they will, period.
Of course, there have been people who I’ve known who have been killed by these ruthless narcos. Most of them have been passing acquaintances or friends of friends, or somebody’s uncle, or friends of family members, neighbors, etc. There have only been a couple of people who I’ve known really well, or did at one time, or hung out with extensively at one time, who have been tortured and murdered as well.
I’m morbidly curious and fascinated as to what happened with them. They were killed in separate, unrelated events, by the way. They were kidnapped, taken away, tortured, executed, and dumped in the street. One of them was taken from his office in broad daylight, the other one was taken from his home (I think). I’m not judging. When I knew these guys and hung out with them, they were cool. Nothing they did (at least in front of me) would lead me to ever believe that this is what would happen to them. I feel horrible that it happened and that they went through pain and terror before they died, like I said, they were good dudes and they didn’t deserve that. They come from lovely families, and the pain that they went through must have been horrifying and gigantic.
Does it make me an asshole if I’m morbidly curious as to what exactly happened? What were they thinking when they saw their kidnappers? What words were exchanged? The one who was taken from his office in broad daylight (said office is in a building with other offices, and there were plenty of witnesses), what was he saying? Did they try to fight back? Did they try to bargain for their lives? Oh, and by the way, even though in both cases there were witnesses, nobody was caught, and nobody is in jail for these particular crimes. I was watching an interview that one of the Ling sisters conducted with the mayor of the most violent city in the world (which is also in Mexico)
I think I’m so fascinated by this because a big part of me thinks the narcos killed the wrong guys. Even though logic indicates otherwise, because they were taken alone, and it’s clear they were targeted specifically, I want to believe that it was all a huge, deadly mistake. And these were dudes that I knew pretty well at one point. Maybe that’s why as well. Because in their position, what the hell would I do? I’m terrified of death, and dying, and go nuts when I try to rationalize that at one point in the future, I will no longer exist. That scares the absolute piss out of me.
But anyway, that whole spiel wasn’t the reason I started writing this. The reason is that one of those guys who I mentioned just now had a Facebook profile, like almost everybody does. He was semi-active, and would post pictures of himself at baseball games, pictures of his family, of his daughter, the usual stuff. And of course, when he died a few months ago, people posted their condolences and their feelings on his page, all understandable. I get all of that. As time has gone by, I’ve noticed that sometimes people still post occasionally on his page, saying how they miss him, and whatnot, which again, I totally understand.
But here’s what’s creeping me out a little. Today, as I was wasting time here at work and looking at my Facebook page, I noticed that his mother had posted on his wall today. People are posting on his wall but sort of pretending he’s still alive, including his siblings and his mother. I understand the “I miss you” kind of post, but the “Hey how are you?” thing? Kinda creepy, no?
I don’t know.
The asshole part of me thinks it’s a way to call attention to yourself, in this case, his family wants people to know that they’re in pain and that they’re suffering and that they miss him so much. Of course they miss him, and they’ll miss him forever. But why do it in a public way? I’ve lost family members and friends in the past, and you know how I grieve? Silently. I remember and laugh and cry, maybe sharing that with another person or family member, but that’s it. Tributes are fine, yes, and you can share stories, that’s wonderful… but there’s a line in there somewhere, and I think people who post that kind of stuff have crossed it. It’s not the “talking to your deceased loved one” part, it’s the “talking to your deceased loved one PUBLICLY ON FACEBOOK” that gets me.
I hope I never have to go through that though. I’m sure if something like that happens to me, my grief will manifest itself in different ways and some people may see it in a completely different way than it was intended.
I give up.
To quote the legendary Roberto Durán:
I used to be into wrestling a lot. When I was a kid, I was obsessed. This was mid to late 80s, so Hulkamania was a major part of my life. I used to buy “Pro Wrestling Illustrated” magazines and devour them. I would order shit from magazines and join Fantasy Wrestling leagues, where my name was somehow mangled into C. NOBICO, and my finishing move was a piledriver from the second rope. I have no idea if that can even be possible, but hey, they accepted it, so that was it. In my time as a participant in this olde tyme Fantasy Wrestling, I think I won the tag team titles once.The Hulkster and Randy “Macho Man” Savage were my 2 main guys. I hated Andre the Giant and the Million Dollar Man, and the Ultimate Warrior came on and blew everyone out of the water. Bret “the Hitman” Hart was the coolest dude in the world in my eyes, and the Honky Tonk Man was a real dirty sumbitch.
Anyway, when me and my friends would fool around and do our own wrestling shows, one of the go-to moves was the Boston Crab (see first picture). Back then, it wasn’t the fucking Walls of Jericho, and in my eyes it will never be the Walls of Jericho. That’s a goddamn Boston Crab. And it was easy to do and can be genuinely painful. Another standby was the Camel Clutch THAT WOULD MAKE YOU HUMBEL, and my older brother would gleefully apply either one of those on me if he felt like it. At first I would laugh, but when he would keep yanking back, then shit got real. And of course, since he was older, and I idolized him (still do), I would let him until my back was screaming in agony. But hey, anything for my older bro.
I think that when it comes down to it, all of us are looking for pretty much the same thing. Call it happiness, if you want. There are aspects to it that are different for all of us, but it boils down to one basic. As social animals, and as rational beings, I think that finding a person to share your life with is that one thing that makes us all the same. A mate, a companion, a spouse… call it whatever you want. I think we’re meant to find someone and form our own little pods, our own dens and households. But that search man… that search can fuck you up something fierce.
In December of ‘05 I thought I’d found that person. Boy, was I wrong. After barely 3 months of “marriage,” it was all over, and I was torn apart. Since I can remember, the one constant in my life was the certainty that one day, I would have a loving family to call my own. I would work hard to make sure that I wasn’t an asshole like my father was and that I would never hurt my family like my father hurt us. But then reality kicked me square in the nuts.
Fuck your dreams, life said. You’re gonna marry who you think is the greatest woman in the world, but ho ho ho, she will cheat on you, lie to you, and leave you within a couple of months of promising to love you as long as you both lived. Oh, and when she leaves, she’ll be pregnant, but she doesn’t know if you’re the father or not. And you’ll call her every day for months begging for her to come back, but she’ll only continue to twist the knife deeper and deeper until it feels like you can’t breathe, and the only thing that will keep you going is the possibility that she’s carrying your child. Haha, take that! (this is still life talking, by the way)
And you know what? I took it. I’m still here, and I have a beautiful and amazing 5 year old daughter. My heart swells with love every time I see her, every time I hear her voice, every time I think of her. When I’m with her, there is nobody on earth that is happier than I am.
But that’s 4 days a month. I never wanted that.
The rest of the time? Yeah, exactly.
In my own fucked up way, I’ve tried. I am well aware that I’m scarred by what happened and that has affected every aspect of my life, including the way I approach a woman and how I express myself when I want to be with somebody. The few women I’ve liked and that I’ve had the guts to say something akin to that haven’t responded in that same way. When that happens, I’m knocked on my ass again. I shrivel up and go back into my cave, which isn’t a good place to be. And it’s not easy to leave that cave and try again.
Here’s what I want, to end this, because I’m tired of being so goddamn self-pitying, if that’s even a word.
I want somebody who cares about how my day was. Somebody who will listen to my horseshit and chuckle or scold me for bitching about how much I hate stupid little things like flip-flops. I want somebody with a good, caring, heart, who will reassure me that things will be fine, who will make me chicken soup when I’m sick, and who will spend a lazy Sunday with me watching mindless TV and eating crappy delivery pizza. I want to wake up in the morning knowing that somebody is thinking of me.
And what will I give? I will help you in whatever you need help. I will make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible and that you don’t have to worry about things in your life that drive you batshit. I will fix your computer and show you how to use the calendar application on your new phone. I will bring you lunch to work if you have to stay in, and pick you up at whatever hour you want me to. I will watch whatever movie you want because if I’m by your side, that’s the only thing that matters. I will listen to your office gossip and always take your side in whatever stupid argument you’re having with the person who has the next cubicle. Your happiness will be my top priority, because that will make me happy.
I guess I’m writing this because it’s the beginning of a New Year, and everybody is recapping and making their resolutions and all that. I don’t believe in New Year resolutions, and have never made them.
But for 2012, I’ll make an exception. At the stroke of midnight on January 1, 2013, I will hug my girlfriend and give her a great big, sloppy, drunken kiss. That’s my fucking resolution.
Although according to the Mayas we won’t make it that far anyway, so what difference does it make, right?
I get advice from the people who are truly close to me. My family, the handful of people who I consider to be true friends, colleagues, shrink…I know they care and want me to do well and be happy. I’m not stupid enough not to see that. I know they love me. But there’s this hump.
It’s a matter of self-esteem. I know. I’m just not confident. I keep second guessing myself, always wondering if I’m doing the right thing or acting in the right way. I’m a good guy, I don’t want to hurt anybody, even though some people in my life seem to get a kick out of kicking me in the balls every chance they get. And there are many people in my life who do that. I can’t imagine why. And it’s not because I’m such a great person or whatever, I know I can be an asshole and my issues are such that I will often shut down and not bother dealing with what’s going on. I can’t understand how somebody gets so much joy out of fucking with somebody else and being a dick. I really can’t. And to do it with glee, fully aware that they’re affecting somebody else in a negative way and interfering with somebody else’s happiness. Seriously, what is the fucking point of that?
Which brings me to the next issue. Facebook Self Fellatio.
Ron Jeremy: Can suck his own penis. In case you didn’t know.
I think I’ve alreay written about this, and if somebody reading who is actually my friend (real-life or Facebook-wise) is offended by this, I sincerely apologize. I’m not writing to be mean or insulting. It’s like the flip-flop thing. I hate them with a passion, but I won’t hate you for wearing them. Well, maybe a little.
But I digress.
I can never be confident enough to “Like” my own Facebook shit. Even though I laugh at some of what I post (or steal from other places, whatever), I will never click the “Like” button on my own shit. Seeing my News Feed say: “__________ liked his own photo” or “_________ liked his own status” annoys the ever-loving shit out of me, almost as much as people who post about religion or fucking quotes from the Dalai Lama or whatever cookie-cutter bullshit feel-good philosophy is all the rage these days. Come on, people, be real. There is no magic formula. Most of the times, life fucking sucks, don’t pretend it doesn’t. I don’t believe true happiness exists and if you tell me it does or if you tell me you are 100% truly happy I will only believe that you are a goddamn liar.
I understand why people pretend it does though. Sure, it’s comforting to think that it does, but I don’t think the human mind works that way. I don’t believe that the brain or the human spirit (if that even exists) can ever be satisfied enough to say that. I don’t think animals (and we’re an animal, don’t forget) or instincts can ever be satisfied to that degree.
Seriously, cut that shit out. Resist the urge to click on that “Like” button no matter how impressed you are by your own joke, your own picture, or your own cloying, overbearing, and condescending advice. Because when you tell me how to be happy, and how God can solve all my problems, you’re not helping. You’re being condscending.
And a douchebag.
I’m jealous that you don’t tag me in your Facebook posts, but you tag everybody else.
I’m jealous that you’re not around and that the people in your life probably don’t realize how awesome you are.
I’m jealous of your doorman when he says good morning, and the customers who walk into your store and get to ask you a question and hear your voice.
I’m jealous of the guy at the fast food place who gets to take your order.
I’m jealous of the people in the club who get to see you smile.
I’m jealous of your dog whom you chase around happily with you camera because he gets to hear your laugh.
I’m jealous of whoever was staning next to you at the concert because they got to hear your sing.
I’m jealous of whoever lit the last cigarrette you smoked and the waiter or bartender who handed you the last bear you drank.
I’m jealous of whoever it is you’re thinking about right this second.
toptumbles:Wrong place to take a nap