Manolo Goes On Vacation

I will be out of touch from March 31st to Apri 14 (Spain, baby, Spain!!!). If you are looking for something to pass the time, you can either look at the Manolo archives or come back after April 15th where I hope to entertain you with some stories from my travels across Spain...

Of course, there will some other postings on The Hose from Xtian and Evil but we all know those aren't as good as mine...I suggest you read those just so you can feel better about yourself and thank your lucky stars that your life its not as sucky as theirs...

Manolo Goes On Another Date

I have a friend at work that is really smoking hot. In my business, the women usually are...

I was regaling my coworkers last week with stories from my last date (come on, who the heck doens't believe in evolution?) when she told me about a friend who she wanted to set me up with who was a lot of fun and "believed in evolution". At first I wasn’t interested since I am not a big fan of blind dates (this was my second...the last one involved a Jewish girl and the search for a chinese KOSHER restaurant in the Upper West Side of NYC) but then I figured, “Hot girls usually hang out with hot girls…if her friend is half as hot as he is, then there’s nothing to worry about.”

We agreed to meet at a bar. I get there early and was having a few beers when a midget walked in. I tried not to stare, but the midget was walking in my direction. I then giggled a bit because I started reminiscing about old 3 AM drunk conversations I had back in school (Casa Latina) involving midget tossing.

Anyways, she sat down right next to me, and we began chatting. That’s when I found out she was my date. Things were going pretty well, and feeling comfortable enough, I decided to ask her what it’s like to be a midget. She gave me funny look and then proceeded to knock me off my bar stool (shout out to John-El...inside story!). She then kicked me with her tiny feet as she screamed, “I am not a midget, you asshole! I’m a little person.”

A few bouncers surrounded us, but they decided to watch and laugh for a couple of minutes before they pulled the "little person" off me. The bartender, who was FULLY hot, felt bad and offered to get me drunk for free. It was a really embarrassing night, but at least I learned that a) literally, she was half as hot and b) midgets have feelings too.

A Scene from Someone’s Forthcoming Autobiography

She was plumper than he expected. It was a muscular plumpness so he didn’t mind.

Things progressed as they’re meant to. As is often the case, past experience has him cautious when it comes to removing another person’s clothing. A history of ripped pants and broken panties has him concerned that he’s stronger than he ever lets on.

As he clumsily tries to remove her top he stops half way and takes a deep breath and speaks….

“I’m going to need for you to not internalize it when I kick your ass out of here at 930 in the morning.”

She looked at the clock and that it was 5am. She pulled her top back down as if she was going to go.

“Who are you kidding?” the pained look on her face broke his bravado “nah, seriously stay, I’ll buy you a bagel before I toss you out…”

That ended that bit of the conversation and led to another different sort of communication…

Thursday Night

At the end of the night on thursday, I was not ready to go home. It occurred to me that Sangay was still out and about at Serena's, which is right near my apartment. Perfect....

I walked in and there was a hot indian chick staring me down...I walk over to her and am all like:

ME: "whats up"

HER: "hey"

ME: "do I know you?"

HER: "no"

ME: "oh you're looking pretty hard at me is all"

SOME OTHER DUDE: "you talking to my girl?"

ME: "wha...she's staring at me"

Then I found Sangay and stood around a for a few minutes. Then the dude walked over to us and did a little dance...I think he was challenging me to a dance off for his woman. Either that or he wanted to bang me. Regardless, I got freaked out and left...

Head to Head - Evil vs. Pat O'Brien

Check this article out...Pat O'Brien is apparently crazy!

This is outside the Hotel Metropol, which is right next to Red Square. One day, a military brigade appeared suddenly and no one could determine why. 

We went to a restaurant in St. Petersberg where there was a "no guns" and "no headphones" policy. Thank goodness! 

This girl was also in the arena. She was amazing. 

2005 World Figure Skating Championships in Moscow. Check out Michelle Kwan's ass. 

Misadventures in the Great Search for Poontang

Evil

Weird that this chick would be calling me after all this time. I had deleted her from my phone so when she called, just her number showed up, not her name. I let it ring through to voice mail. I barely even answer when it's someone I know, much less someone I don't know. I checked the voice mail a couple of days later (these things slip my mind easily). She was like, hey [Evil], it's me, J... I know we haven't talked in a while, but call me back some time.

The last time we talked, I was sitting on her couch. She was sitting on her couch too. She was trying to watch TV while I was trying to slide my hand up her thigh. I barely got past her mid-thigh when suddenly she leapt into the the air and announced, "I want to read now!" So she bolts to her room and comes back with a book. She wedges herself on the very far end of the couch and starts to read.

I am not the type of person who picks up on little hints, but this was no little hint. I leave. That was the last time we talked.

Her voicemail intrigues me. But not enough to call her back. Instead, I email her and suggest that we can watch a DVD at my place. She emails me back and says yes, so long as there won't be any funny business going on. What? Am I wearing a clown nose and big floppy shoes. I don't need none of that. I have better things to do. (Actually, I don't, but I just wanted to say that anyway.)

A Date full of Escape Clauses

A bizarrely attractive blonde woman contacted me over Match.com recently. So we got to it over the email…I was charming witty, dangerous and flirty…everything I’m not in real life. It was great and she was pumped. She did not have a profile available for viewing. Which I found odd, I mean what’s the point of being on match.com if no one can see your face and bombard you with emails?

A few weeks ago I had bought 1, single ticket to a Julieta Venegas concert. I was convinced I could not talk anyone into going with me so I bought one, single solitary ticket. Because there was no one else involved in the purchase I also convinced myself that it was two Fridays ago and then last Friday.

She asked me what I was up to on Friday and my lame explanation that I was going to a concert by myself just was not flying…then I realized my ticket was for the 1st. I mellowed out and agreed to meet up with her at 10pm at a bar. She had somewhere to be midnight.

Escape Clause #1 – If I’m lame, she takes off and goes to meet up with friends no problem…

Our drinks were great. She revealed that she did not drink that much and I revealed that I drink far too much but that I’m being good for Lent.

I asked about the private thing on with her match.com profile. I asked her in an indirect way, I asked how many emails she got an hour.

She was unnerved. I left it alone

Eventually she warmed up to my vibe. She asked if I wanted to go to the concert. I got past the first escape clause

At the bar where the concert was happening, we encounter her friend. Her friend knew the score. She came over and over the music I could make out her asking my date if I was on the up and up. She said yes.

Escape Plan #2 If I pass the first test but later prove to be wack or cannot be shaken, there’s her friend to bail her out…There I was shooting past the second buffer of security.

Drinks with the band after the show was fine…at the end she had a ride set with her friend and took off with it.

I ran off to meet with some dudes who were getting falafels down the street she called me back.

“Where are you? Do you want to split a cab?”

I was waiting for a falafel so I said no and mentioned I was several blocks away. But somehow I made it past the last escape plan…a win’s a win’s a win…

Not Having Sex with anywhere from 4-5 women at any given moment

Since I’ve come back to NY I’ve not had sex with about 22 women. It’s a new personal best for me. Normally I sit around not having sex with 1 woman for months before I realize it’s just not going to happen and go crawl in a ball and swear women off forever.

I’ve been sticking and moving this time around like boxing is going out of style (obviously neglecting the drag effect of a stupendous show “The Contender”)

In order to accomplish this feat in the 6 months between September and now, it’s taken a ton of effort and I have to acknowledge all parties who have helped me along in this journey thru their support and mockery. This includes but is not limited to: Buck, Manolo, Jon-El, B-Shah, Pacey Witter, Jazzy Jaff, cousin Maria, Evil, KenTak3, sleeve, HVR, DJM, MaybeItsMaybeline, The Marlboro Man, Elmo's Uncle and of course all the silly bitches that have been so gracious as to not sleep with me...

Manolo Goes On A Date

I don’t like Miami from a transportation perspective. Miami lacks a mass transit system which means you can’t be spontaneous…you can’t hop on a train or a bus or a cab and go somewhere. You always have to plan it ahead of time. You can’t be dynamic a la Xtian…There is always a set of questions that need to be answered before you step out the door. Where are you going? Who is picking who? Who is the designated driver? Where is everyone meeting? Who is following who?

I invited this young lady to go out dancing with me to Bongos (local place where big Spanish bands sometimes play). My lady friend comes over to my place where I quickly make some amaretto sours as I give her a tour of my 1-bedroom apartment in my Melrose Place wannabe complex. I show her the living room, the kitchen, the bathroom and the bedroom. I show her the pool and hinted at us maybe going skinny dipping later on. The whole tour was over in about a minute which was probably a preview of things to come, gggrrr!!!!

We engaged in trivial conversation and I found out that she doesn’t like seafood. I excused myself for a moment and very discreetly called “The Rusty Pelican” to cancel our reservation. Some of you, knowing the fact that I am a very picky eater who doesn’t eat any seafood or vegetables may ask yourself why am I making reservations to a seafood restaurant. I was taking a gamble...Most seafood restaurants have at least one land-based dish and the restaurant itself is on an island which has a beautiful view of Miami’s skyline and I was hoping the romantic value was worth more than my appetite.

After some more conversation, I find out that she is not a big eater either…We decide that the best option for us would be to do is to go to a tapas restaurant and get a variety of items of small-sized items so we could share…Since it was kind of her decision, I let her order…I am “like seriously, what can she order at a tapas place I wouldn’t eat”…Boy, was I wrong!!! She ordered some duck quesadillas, buffalo (boofalo soldiers-shout out to Balls Mahoney) meat empanadas and stuffed mushrooms. Simple and delightful delicacies I would never ever touch…

I am very discreetly making my way around my quesadilla, while having the normal date conversation of parents, siblings, work, sexual positions, etc. I guess my bringing up sexual positions raised some alarms because all of a sudden she started talking about God, how she had a very serious catholic upbringing and to this day she is a virgin who is saving herself for marriage. This is all commendable stuff, for somebody else! The situation does not bode well for me…

I don’t know if it was the fact that at that point I knew I was not going to get any, not unless I devote a large amount of time to this girl, or that I was very hungry, so hungry, but something snapped.

I decided to complete obliterate this “God” world of hers and kept asking all sorts of existential, philosophical, and science questions. Don’t you get horny? What do you do when that happens? Haven’t you seen that in the movies, when a woman is about to reach her height of erotic pleasure, she screams “God” and sometimes try to touch him? Don’t you want to be closer to him? Don't you want to touch Him? Do you touch yourself?

She went on this crazy tangent about Adam and Eve and how all of us are paying our dues because Eve ate the apple (I don’t know, maybe all her options were some buffalo empanadas and she was hungry)…Then that led to a discussion on evolution and the big bang theory…lo and behold, she doesn’t believe in any of that crap. Who doesn't believe in Evolution or the Big Bang Theory? I thought it was the crazy people in the Red states (I forgat, I am in a Red state).

I am prodding and prodding until she yells, “ARE YOU CRAZY? WE DON’T COME FROM MONKEYS.” It happened right as there was a general lull in the whole restaurant…everyone turned and looked at us.

I was turned on…she was all flushed, tense, like a beast…all this pent up sexual energy…My whole future flashed before my eyes…I imagined the church, I imagined marrying this woman and then I imagined the wedding night…oh yeah!

Somehow, kids popped into the picture...I saw myself in a never ending tug of war of things to come…my “wife” spewing her religious beliefs and telling the kids about God, how evolution doesn’t exist, and how there is no big bang theory and I in the other end trying to raise my kids as “secular humanists.”

Anyways, after a little bit of an awkward silence, I told her that she was entitled to her own opinions and that I respect it her for it, and blah blah blah. Dinner ended and we went to dance the night away. Things did improve on the dance floor, and all the tension from dinner had somehow dissipated. We were actually having fun…

I finally took her to my place to get her car, and as we are saying goodbye, we ended up in a big passionate kiss. It was one of those strong kisses where you just grab each other and don’t want to let go. I opened my eyes and I noticed that her two arms, which are kind of resting on top of my shoulders, have that fuzz of hair that some women have (which I found coincidentally amusing).

She finally got in her car and drove away…I took inventory of the night, to see what went wrong or right, what conversation topics needed to be changed, what anedecotes needed to be updated...mind you, not for this girl...that was crazy, a chick with arm air…that’s one second date that won’t be happening (shiver)...

Manolo Watches Over the Kids

My parents, needing a well deserved vacation, decided to take one week off and went to the Dominican Republic to visit family, but mainly to sit at the beach and drink rum and cokes. I know, we are all so jealous…

This meant that my brother and sister (21 and 18 years old respectively) would have been left home alone. I am sure this is what they were secretly hoping for but given the fact that I don’t trust the little bums, I decided to pack my things and go home for the duration of my parent’s trip.

I was not prepared for what was to come. I was actually worried about the little rascals…I left work right on the dot so I could go home and cook for them. I would yell at them for not picking up their rooms or doing their chores. I would pepper them with questions…What did they do all day? How come they didn't wash the dishes? Had they eaten something? Where were they going? Who were they going with? How long were they going to be away? Did they have gas in their cars? Were they wearing clean underwear? Could they bring me a coke from the fridge?

It rapidly became a very surreal experience…I would break out into giggling fits any time people would invite me out for drinks or dinner and I would have to politely decline because I had to go home and “watch over the kids.”

What the @#$?

My parents came back about a week ago and I haven't been back since...

The Sort of Conversation One Never Expects to Have

On Wednesday, I was scurrying to and fro in NJ...visiting clients, hitting the Trader Joes and dropping off late birthday gifts for my godson.

In the midst of all this activity, I received a call from my friend, and she's all like, "what are you up to?"

"not a whole lot...in Jersey stuck in traffic"

"What about tonight?"

"I dunno"

"We're going to a show, we're going to see Pieces (of Ass) and my friend J is going to be there"

A few hours later, I was standing outside the theater, waiting for my friend and her friend who I may or may not being set up with. Its hard to determine but I think is one of those open ended things that could go either way. Whatever...

We all meet up, I notice that the girl I had spent the last 10 minutes staring at is actually the girl I was meant to meet. This bode well.

Of course, it’s all up to the execution right…

The show itself was fine. It’s about chicks complaining about how hot they are. Btw, is there anything more potentially annoying than hot chicks complaining about being hot? Baby, try being a “non-traditionally” handsome man with a great personality…you can’t get much worse than that. Your life is like this…you walk around living your life and beautiful women love hanging around with you especially when they have just recently been done dirty. They hang out use me for my wit, charm and grace and then just as they find their confidence and I make my move, it’s like a look of horror…then its pity “you poor boy, you actually think I would sleep with you? No, not now…not ever”
That sucks….pretty girls could blow me with their complaining complaints…

But I digress…

Afterwards, we all head to my apt. She offers to spice it up with her own sense of style. Looking her over, I note her sun dress and fishnet combo. I tentatively agree but know that I am going to need to have veto power on any of her decisions. Her idea though is promising…this bodes well…

As we’re walking to Pastis for a late (late) dinner. We see your friend and mine, Jon Bon Jovi walking out. My vaguely JAPy, vaguely bohemian friend immediately pipes up and is all like

“hello jon, how are you?”

“I don’t think I know you”

“sure you do, we’ve met…” Then a somewhat exhaustive list of parties, event, and high profile shin-digs falls out of her mouth. All the while his face goes from slightly amused to perturbed. The woman he is with is luckily still amused.

“Is she stalking me…” He’s looking at me now, like I’m supposed to know something…I don’t at least not anything I’m will to share

“Oh screw you” She’s pointing and raising her voice and occasionally pointing. She’s babble and finishes with “I don’t like your music anyway”

Of course we did not get to go into the restaurant so we went up the street and did not really discuss it any further…

My Fortune

Evil

I cracked open the fortune cookie. The piece of paper read:

The person who loves you most is sitting by your side.

I was alone.

The Wrong Way to Do the Right Thing

There are good things to do in the world and bad things. In my personal life, I tend to pick the bad. Recognizing this limitation, I decide periodically to offset this with great acts of kindness. So inevitably, I'm out there collecting trash and being environmentally sound and mentoring young people and generally just trying a bit too hard...

Now that I've settled into my job and the demands that are typical of it. I have decided to re-up on my commitment to help everyone in sight, whether they want to or not. To that end I've been checking out some of the community service organizations in NYC and what they have to offer.

I hit the NY Cares orientation program a few weeks ago. I walked into the jewish community center on a Sunday, grabbed a form and sat in the back. The fact that it was 70% women (ages 24-27) did not escape my notice. I did my best to supress my glee. The Orientation coordinator was a volunteer of 10 years who showed up in a really good mood for a sunday morning. His openning comments were innocent enough about the opportunity to do the world some good and how inspired he is when he's done with his saturday reading program.

Over the course of his presentation though, he began to pepper his comments with slightly off color comments. For Example:

"And I mean look around you, do you want to do these great things with some of the beautiful people."

Later, he said something like "and if I like you and you can't get a date here, then I'll help you out I have 3 single daughters, ages 21-30"

I was dumbstruck...This guy was completely out of hand. people are here, hung over and droopy on Sunday morning trying to redeem the sins of the past weekend, not accelerating the their opportunity to repeat these past mistakes. The hell?

When he closed by encouraging everyone to mingle and sign up for stuff together, I seriously began to question this fellow's interest in reading to academically under performing minority children.

Later, I went to orientation for God's Love We Deliver. When I was a kid I remember the one commercial they did, where a dude would run up the stairs and give a big box of food to a drag queen dying of AIDs. Wait, did I make that up?

The orientation was reasonable enough, a mix of kids, older people and 20 somethings, somewhat disproportionately gay, looking to cchop potatoes to the beat disco music in a judgement free environment.

The orientation coordinator took a different tact. He focused on what was amazing about helping others and some of the demographics of the people we could be helping if we stepped up, put on our flashiest, fishnet shirt, got our groove on and chopped some potatoes. Over the course of the discussion he mentioned that he was divorced recently. He sighed heavily and presed on with his presentation.

Towards the end he got very honest and said that he used God's Love We Deliver to help him thru the toughest part of his divorce finding himself working 4-5 shifts in a week, or basically every night. Right, he's not at all missing the point...

Other Faces to Lick

Here is a long post that I put elsewhere for the sake of saving screen space...

We were somewhere around Barstow...

Evil

George Plimpton, the pioneer of participatory journalism, talked his way into pitching at Yankee Stadium, quarterbacking for the Detroit Lions, and playing goalie for the Boston Bruins. Hunter S. Thompson, pioneered another type of journalism -- Gonzo -- which involves loading up on drugs til your head is totally whacked and then you report on various escapades in the first person.

"We were somewhere outside of Fayetteville on the edge of golfing country when the drugs began to take hold..."

That's the first line of my upcoming collaboration with Xtian. The rest has yet to unfold. In about a month, Xtian and I will take the NJ Transit to Newark Airport and rent a Toyota Camry, which will probably have more than a faint aroma of urine. Then we're gonna drive that bitch straight down 95, headed for golf school and possibly the worst acid trip of our lives. The combination of golf school and Gonzo... Plimton and HST... Xtian and Evil... and you know what, biotch? Cash. We're doing this for Reason Magazine. I, as "the attorney," negotiated a $500.00 advance on the story and when it's done, they pay us 6 cents a word. Officially, Xtian and I are splitting that 50/50, but I might just throw him into a ditch when the writing is done because the only thing worst than having to share cash is having to share the plentiful poontang that comes after fame taps me on the shoulder. The light is shining right at me, and nobody else.

Disappointment

Evil

Xtian has hit rock bottom. He is figuratively down in the dumps but literally he's in a ditch. Well, not technically a ditch, but a rain gutter somewhere near 26th street and 7th ave. No one has bothered to help Xtian get out of the ditch. I would, except that I have various DVDs queued up to watch. I'm pretty disappointed in KenTak3 and The Bump.

Outdated Movie Review: The Motorcycle Diaries

Evil



In The Motorcycle Diaries, Gael Garcia Bernal (above) reprises his role as the impressionable gay youngster from the homoerotic thriller, Y Tu Mama Tambien. This movie is about a nubile young man and an older, experienced man who ride 8000 km through South America on a motorcycle.

Before watching this movie, I thought it was going to be like Easy Rider -- a kick ass movie about kick ass manly dudes -- except in Spanish. DUDE, was I wrong. First of all, these two guys didn't have their own motorcycles. Instead, they rode through South America while sharing the same bike: one guy's groin pressed to the other guy's ass... all while the motorcycle was vibrating vigorously upon the rocky terrain.

Unlike Y Tu Mama Tambien, this movie didn't involve any man-woman screwing in an attempt to hide its gayness. Let me tell you, my friends, this movie is full-on GAY.

And on a somewhat unrelated note (and I don't mean to get all political on you)... the two homos in this movie traveled from Argentina to Venezuela, so those countries and the ones en-route (Peru, Colombia) got prominent mention... Oh wait, they left out Ecuador. What happened to Ecuador? Is it a second-tier South American country? I guess it's sort of like if I were traveling from Miami from Boston, I wouldn't bother to mention anything that happens in New Jersey.

BTW- I am so smashed right now.

Outdated Movie Review: "Ray"

Evil

"Ray" is a movie about the early life of Ray Charles, who apparently is some handicapped dude who played the piano and sang. I've heard a few people describe "Ray" as in inspiring story, but I just don't see it. I mean, yeah, Ray Charles had this crazy limp, but that doesn't really make piano playing and singing all that tough.

Story aside, Jamie Foxx's interpretation of Ray Charles is difficult to fathom. Instead of feeling like I was watching Ray Charles, I felt like I was watching Adam Sandler doing a Ray Charles impersonation. What was with that mumbly, slurry speech? Was this Water Boy? Happy Gilmore? Little Nicky?

There was one bright spot in the movie though: Kerry Washington, who played Ray Charles's wife. She made me want to lose my pants.

Separated At Birth?

Evil



Above left: Kerry Washington, who recently played Ray Charles's wife in "Ray." Above right: Scarlett Johannson, who recently played Mrs. Evil in most of my dreams.

Josephine, the Brown/Blue Eyed Girl

Evil

Josephine's eyes are one brown, one blue. It runs in her family actually; her brother has the same except in the opposite eyes. I don't know what's more rare for Chinese people: to have a set of blue eyes, or just one. I don't know any Chinese people with both eyes blue, so I guess having just one is actually more common. Go figure.

I saw Josephine on the train this morning. She was sitting in the next subway car, but I saw her thru the scratched up plexiglass. I recognized her instantly. Not by her eyes, because you can't see that stuff through scratched up plexiglass. I'll always recognize her because she has this smashed-in looking face and too-thick eyebrows. The last time I saw Josephine was about a month ago, also on the subway. The last time before that was a long time prior. I was 14 and she was 10. It was the last day of Chinese summer school and I thought I would see her again the next year as usual, but who knew... my parents didn't make me go back the following summer.

In my mind, I play out the scene where I cross the subway cars and walk up to Josephine. I say, Hi, and smile and she glances up. She wears a sullen look and it doesn't change when she sees me. I say, You're Josephine, and a glimmer flashes across her brown/blue eyes. I think it's a glimmer of fright, but I'm undeterred. I say, We went to Chinese school together, way back when. I knew your brother, Ba. Then I smile. When I smile, she cracks a smile, but it's forced. I know a forced smile when I see one. In the scene that I play out in my mind, we get to my stop and I'm relieved. I bolt out of there and wonder why I couldn't amuse even a brown/blue eyed girl with smashed-in face and too-thick eyebrows. It gets me sort of down.

In real life, we actually come to my stop. I step out, walk past the car that Josephine's in and check her eyes. Yes, one brown, one blue. It's her. She sees me, but she doesn't recognize me.

Bye bye, Bubba the Giant Lobster

Evil



This is a picture of Bubba, during his better days, i.e. when we was still alive. Bubba died earlier today and in a Pittsburgh aquarium, no less. Oh, the indignity. Pittsburgh is such a slum town.

Bubba's death is not for naught though. When Bubba's capture off the coast of Nantucket first made the news, the world learned an interesting tidbit about lobsters: them critters take 5 to 7 years to grow a single pound! So when you eat a 2 pound lobster, you're chomping on a 10- to 14-year-old.

Check back here soon... no doubt, Manolo will follow this post with an in-depth analysis of the sexual behavior of lobsters.