i am a fool for the paths that i follow
winding roads the i know lead to dead ends
a child born with little wisdom
i cry so loud that the old man in me can't be heard
i try to find solace in places that have none
water is easier to get from a stone when you are not so thirsty
the help from within will have to wait for another night

Well I've finally got to the major downside of being single: getting sick. Would be sooooo nice if there was someone here to take care of me. This sinus infection is a bitch!

Enough of bumming people out. I'll live as always. Let's go to the movies.

There's a new Sin City trailer out. For those of you who don't know what Sin City is check out this link. It's a comic noir work done by the ledgendary Frank Miller. Among his hits and misses it's one of his hits. You can view the trailer here: http://images.apple.com/movies/miramax/sin_city/sin_city_m480.mov

Directed by Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller, this work is a shot by shot remake of the comic, which itself was drawn as if it were a noir film. Very post modern. The casting looks perfect as well.

Once again the fix is in on Christmas day. The writing is on the walls and there's not much I can do about it. One son has already disappeared and another is about to. I know somehow things are going to screw up with my latest ex and I'm going to wind up not seeing the other two as well. Might be better to stay home alone this year to avoid the massacre that was Christmas 2003. I'm not sure why I go along with the whole holiday idea anyway. It's not like there is one thing about Christmas that I believe in. It was all downhill after Santa Clause stopped paying visits. It more comes out of a sense of obligation to the kids. I want to make sure they have the best memories possible. Maybe I'll celebrate Festivus next year instead.

You would think I beat them or something.




Notice my daughter isn't even there because at the age of ten Daddy is starting to loose his cool! Listen kids, even on my worse days as a child I still gave a photogenic shot. Kids,help Daddy, please. I'm not getting any younger.

21 Things I Want in a Lover
by Alanis Morisette

Do you derive joy when someone else succeeds?
Do you not play dirty when engaged in competition?
Do you have a big intellectual capacity but know
That it alone does not equate wisdom?
Do you see everything as an illusion?
But enjoy it even though you are not of it?
Are you both masculine and feminine? politically aware?
And don't believe in capital punishment?

These are 21 things that I want in a lover
Not necessarily needs but qualities that I prefer

Do you derive joy from diving in and seeing that
Loving someone can actually feel like freedom? are you funny?
à la self-deprecating? like adventure? and have many formed opinions?

These are 21 things that I want in a lover
Not necessarily needs but qualities that I prefer
I figure I can describe it since I have a choice in the matter
These are 21 things I choose to choose in a lover

I'm in no hurry I could wait forever
I'm in no rush cuz I like being solo
There are no worries and certainly no pressure in the meantime
I'll live like there's no tomorrow

Are you uninhibited in bed? more than three times a week?
Up for being experimental? are you athletic?
Are you thriving in a job that helps your brother? are you not addicted? ...curious and communicative...

Most people who know me know that I'm an ethnically mixed person (in reality who isn't). My father is second generation Sicilian American and my mother is Black American (for more information on that side of the family my mother wrote a book). That makes me a Black Italian. Quite a combination to take on in this culture. Now as if I didn't have it bad enough having such a mix of blood I had to go and have kids too. What was I supposed to do? Find another Black Italian to have kids with? I checked. Leila Arcieri was busy. So here are my kids.

Armand Ashanti Bovoso
Oldest of the Ashanti clan. Mother is pure Ukrainian Jewish (2nd or 3rd generation). Makes him Black/Italian/Jewish. Loves to eat and has trouble traveling in the South.

Mateo Alijah Ashanti Bovoso
Craziest of the Ashanti clan. Blame his mother. Ethnically she's a quarter Portuguese but I swear to you the crazy Portuguese gene is domiant in her. Black/Italian/Portuguese. Makes Mateo functionally Brazilian. Oh those poor lovers of his when he gets older.

Mario Ashanti Haro Bovoso
Youngest of the Ashanti clan. Mother is pure Mexican, moved to California at age 6. Son #3 is Black/Italian/Mexican. For all those who might know Mario in the future I would be careful not to cross him. He'll make you an offer you can't refuse. Man oh man. With that mix I either have a janitor on my hands or the most powerful mob boss ever seen!

I might have to rethink this whole sith thing. I just got back from a trip to the dark side and boy was it scary.

"Is the dark side more powerful?"

"No. Quicker, easier, more seductive."

So I'm back. Thank you Jedi Master Linda-Sue Edwards, MFCC.

No matter how well prepared I think I am to be a modern adult at least once a year I'm reminded that there is a hurt child inside who is needy and waiting to get out. When the door opens and he is able to escape he cries loudly like a neglected and often abused offspring. Last night my child decided to pay an unexpected visit.

He burst through my doors when he saw a crack. "I am abandoned!", he yelled. His assimilation of my emotional/chemical structure was immediate and complete. All rational went out of my head while my heart began pumping veraciously to keep up its new pace. I tried to drown my child in a haze of cannabis but his will was stronger. I begged the universe to provide me with relief or at least with better drugs. My fruitless prayers heeded no end to my suffering as my child kept pointing out that I was abandoned. Was I truly abandoned? Not really, no. This didn't matter though. The child was in control.

As I write the child has grown tired from staying up too late but like any child fights all attempts to be put to bed. His scream has grown to a grumble. I am still left in a world of hurt and emotion but I feel the adult regaining control. I've heard you little Sandro. Don't worry. It's safe. I'll be sure to let you out to play more. I have so much to show and teach you. Hush now. Go to sleep.

How do I write my blog and protect the innocent? Let's try deeply imbeded metaphor with the help of refrigerator magnet poetry.

black scream
deep pain
subject did say it was
on the up
she let no latex
come experimentally
so my drunk heart is
breaking about
my
angry metaphor

For the first time in my life I'm actually glad for a computer crash. Last night I was hired to work security for a house party in Silverlake. I did it for very little money and as a personal favor. It was a lot of fun. I was a bouncer for 5 years in my twenties and to this day I still miss it. But if I'm going to risk my life on a nightly basis I'm going to have to get paid a lot more than 10 dollars and hour. So back to my computer crash. I had worked all day and then all night at this party. I got home around 3 AM. Totally blitzed I decided to write a little about controlling the energy of a crowd through martial arts training. Fascinating stuff but it was quickly going nowhere. Becoming very punch drunk I started writing about there being only one woman with a nice ass at the party. Then I proceeded to go totally off topic by blurting out that my brother was in Seattle visiting a lesbian who likes threats to her life as much as she likes sex. He must be having fun. Oh, and also that my other brother is fat and is going to die from having too many chins. I also started quoting Mojo Jojo. That's when my computer decided to perform an intervention by totally freezing up. My computer is running OS X which doesn't crash very often. This was very suspicious. I lost everything I wrote and went to bed. Man it would have been a great one to look back on.

Boy when you are young you can really fuck up the rest of your life if you're not careful. In 1994 I had it made. I met a beautiful woman and fell madly in love with her. She was married at the time (not great, I know) and we started a torrid affair. With my karma totally shot after her husband found out and left, I wound up moving in with her for a short time where I totally fucked the whole thing up. Here was a woman who was beautiful, intelligent, artistic, funny, and 100 percent sexually compatible. But that's not all. The worst part of it is that she was filthy fucking rich!! I'm talking about backing up the Brinks truck rich. Her father was the founder of an incredibly successful catalog company (a name anyone would recognize). That and seven other companies I never found out about. I just knew there were seven. Oh the humanity! Why fuck me?