January 16, 2013

The New York Secure Ammunition and Firearms Enforcement act has passed in record time.   Unlike laws against drunk driving that kills thousands of Americans every year; unlike laws against doctors and hospitals that kill over one hundred thousand Americans every year due to negligence and incompetence; unlike laws against health insurance companies that don’t pay for badly needed medical services, and therefore bankrupt thousands of Americans who are forced to go into heavy debt because of it.

I live in NYC, a city that for a long time has the toughest gun laws in America.  A city that also has some of the worst gang problems in America.  A city that has many robberies, rapes, murders, assaults, burglaries…And now, NYS has some of the toughest gun laws in America.  So are we going to be more safe in NYS?   I doubt it.  I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to hold my breath for criminals to adhere to the new laws in the SAFE Act.  There are laws against rape — people still get raped.  There are laws against murder — people still kill each other.   Of course we should create laws that make the public safe; but we have a responsibility to make laws that do not hinder the ability of  law-abiding citizens to defend themselves.

Depending on where you stand regarding the 2nd Amendment, you’ll either be for, against, or partially for the NY SAFE Act.  I’m a firm believer in the 2nd Amendment, and that it’s there because the Founding Fathers of America wanted the people to have the means to fight back against a tyrannical government.  I also believe not everyone should have guns.  The mentally ill, hardcore criminals, and those not trained to safely handle and store guns.  And because of that latter part, I believe in some type of gun control.  And that brings us to the sticky part of how much gun control is needed, at what point does it infringe on our 2nd Amendment rights?  Everyone has their own opinions of what is needed.

I’m neither left nor right.  I hold my own values that I formed based on my experiences in life.  I don’t like to follow, so I don’t belong to groups like the Democratic or Republican Party, or the NRA or gun control advocates, etc.  The only group I belong to are my core group of trusted, best friends.  So, I am able to look at the NY SAFE Act with impartial eyes.  Some of it I like (the ability of prosecutors to ask for longer sentences of gangbangers who commit murder; background checks on anyone who wants to purchase a gun).  Some don’t make any God damned sense (Webster Provision — killing a first responder in the act of that responder doing his/her duties will give the killer life without parole (sounds good, until you realize that every innocent person should have their murderer go to prison without the possibility of parole; why are murdered, civilian lives worth less?)).  Another part of the SAFE Act that doesn’t make sense to me is the limitation of magazines to 7.  Why not 10, or 9 or 8, or 6 or 5?  For those who believe 7 is enough to defend yourself, well, you must be confident of your ability to handle yourself in a gunfight.  As for me, if I’m dealing with hardened criminals who are breaking into my house to do harm to my family and I, more bullets in my gun is better than less.

Lots of questions, lots of answers, lots of opinions.  Questions such as who really needs an Assault Rifle, or how many bullets do you need in your gun?  Some may even ask who really needs a gun?

I recently bought a sports car.  She’s not the fastest as far as sports cars go, but compared to regular cars, she’s fast.  Some would ask do I really need all that power?  Well, for the most part, no.  The way I drive, I don’t use all of her power — in fact, I tend to be one of the slowest drivers on the highway.  But there are times when I’m merging into highway traffic, and there’s a tractor-trailer to my left, and a jackass tailgating me on the on-ramp.  My only healthy option is to power out of the situation and mash the throttle and pass the tractor-trailer and leave the tailgater behind.  I can’t tell you how many times I had to do that to save my ass and my car.  And it’s that extra horsepower that allowed me to do that.  I hope you understand.



$1 Million And The World Can Suck It!

January 3, 2013

I write this while having a serious buzz from one glass of wine.  Funny, I usually drink hard liquor; and this wine has me closer to being drunk  than the whiskey or vodka or brandy that I usually drink.

I’m amazed how many people who make lots of money (over $1 million a year) still suck up to people — people who make more money than them, people who are at a higher “class” than them.  If I had at least $1 million after taxes, the world can suck my Asian pee-pee!  I would buy a $300,000 home in the west, give maybe 100K to my closest friends and relatives, buy another car worth about 40K, and put the remaining 500+K into a savings/CD account and live mostly on the interest.  I’m not greedy, I just need to be comfortable for the rest of my life, and I know how to live small.

I’d talk shit to any asshole who tries to put me down.  What?  Your family came from the Mayflower?  Well, you and your ancestors can suck it!  What?  You are a billionaire who owns oil companies?  Well, let me pour 5W-20 Mobil 1 synthetic on my wiener and you can go and suck it!  What?  You’re a powerful politician?  Well, let me get your $5,000 an hour whore that you see when your wife isn’t around, and both you and your whore can suck it!

You know what?  I may even take part-time jobs in some of the crappiest industries just to talk crap to co-workers or bosses who get on my nerves.   Once I know my boss sucks, that’s when I’ll start screwing around.   “Manny, if you want to keep your job — ”  “No, I don’t want to keep this crappy job, so you can suck it!”  Then I turn around and fart in my soon to be ex-boss’ face, and I peel out in my car.   Take a look at the want-ads, and start looking for another crappy job to have fun with.

Life can be very short, people.  Once you have enough for the rest of your life, it’s time to think about cashing out and having fun.  Or you can go for more.  Which means working your ass off, networking, kissing ass, taking crap…you’ll be on your knees sucking it that you won’t be enjoying life anymore.



Saying Goodbye To 2012 And Other Things

January 1, 2013

On New Year’s Eve, I dismantled a chaise/lounge/seat that one of my friends gave me many years ago.  I had room for it then, but since I bought a futon a few years back, the chaise has been rarely used.  I kept it because it was a gift from one of my best friends (he was making room for new furniture and asked me if I wanted this old seat, so I said yes).  Well, I finally decided to get rid of it.  The metal parts will be recycled, and the cushions will go to the regular garbage pickup.  It saddens me that I have no more room or use for it, as it has been a good seat for years.  Some items that I have are given new life and new owners, such as old clothing that I donate to charity.  But some items just have to be let go and given their final rest after great service.  Whatever the case, it’s usually hard to say goodbye to people and things that have been part of my life for a long time.



So Much For Doomsday

December 22, 2012

December 21, 2012 has come and gone, and the world as we know it continues.  Politicians continue to lie, cheat, and steal; banks continue to nickel and dime us with endless fees; the U.S. government continues to scare us so we will be more compliant with the laws it passes that shreds our civil liberties; Asians are still good at math; black people still dominate most sports; Mexicans still love Tequila; MTV and VH1 still show music videos only when 99.9% of Americans are asleep; the cost of living in Manhattan is still unbelievably high despite the fact that its days are numbered due to the rising waters; people who love snow are still the ones who don’t have to shovel that shit; people continue to rape, rob, kill and beat others…

But we also continue to hope for a better future; we continue to love those few, special people who come into our lives; we continue to soak up as much of life as we can for as long as we can, because it can end for any of us at any time.

And so, for those special few in my life — my mom, Lourdes, my dad, Manuel, my best friends, Ed, Tony, Joe, Liz, Carmelita, Blake, Tom, Aisha — I thank you all for making my life better.



Is My Job The Next Mass Shooting Scene?

December 15, 2012

Here are two pictures of notes written by one angry co-worker to another co-worker who stole his or her glasses.  They are written about a week apart, and posted on a bulletin board in one of the break rooms of my job.

Co-Worker's angry note

Co-Worker’s angry note

Co-worker's angry note 2

Co-worker’s angry note 2

Ok, at my job, we have to wear safety glasses.   Most people wear the piece of crap that management gives us.   Some of us — like me — decide to buy our own, because we prefer to wear something that fits, and doesn’t distort our vision or gives us headaches or destroys our eyesight.   And so, those of us who buy our own become protective of our property.  Not only do we spend our hard-earned cash on them, if you lose yours, you have to go begging to management for a pair of safety glasses; and assuming they have one, you will almost always get one that sucks.  Oh, the pair they give you will come with some admonishment of you being irresponsible for not having safety glasses and being unprepared.  “Unprepared.”  Remember that reprimand back in gym class?

Well, safety glasses get lost and/or stolen all the time at my job.  But this is the first time I’ve seen anyone write a letter to the person who swiped a pair of safety glasses.  Notice how the first note has the letters written multiple times with heavy strokes.   And of course, there’s the second note.  A week later!  God damn, were these safety glasses studded with diamonds?  Did it come with a season pass to every NY Knick game?  Was it an heirloom from this person’s great, great, great grandpapa who fought the Red Baron?

I wouldn’t be surprised if one day at work, I hear gunfire.   I don’t know about the rest of my co-workers, but I’ll live.  I always have my wallet, car keys, and housekeys in my pockets.  All that other crap I have in my duffel bag can be left behind.   I am small and light and agile, and I can scale a chain-link fence to get to my trusty, Genesis Coupe if I have to!  Plus there are lots of fatties at my job who will make for easier targets while I’m making my escape.


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