Hold me closer, Tony Danza. count the headlights on the hiiiiiighway

I recently became an editor for urbandictionary.com

This noise had me cracking up

Tony Danza
When you are giving it to a chick from behind, you yell out "Who's the boss?" She'll get confused, turn her head around, at this moment, you donkey punch her in the face and then scream TONY DANZA!!!

used in a sentence: Oh man, I totally pwned Jeff's girlfriend last week when I gave her a Tony Danza.

True or Fase???

Who gives a shit?? This is Hilarious.

I snapped this photog in line at the local Publix.

Dr. Phil is pulling a B-Spears and I love it.

A relative housing paradox.

I dont get it. People can't afford their houses (as evidenced by the recession foreclosures left and right) yet rental prices are SKY HIGH. No wonder no one can afford to pay their bills on time if at all. How is one nurse supposed to pay $1500 for a CT STUDIO?!?! I was forced to look into alternative options. Maybe sharing a house with some randoms from craigslist? That could be like college. College. That's what got me into this predicament in the first place. I could have been knocked up, on welfare, buying Newports with my EBT food stamps, chillin on my stoop with my 5 kids in section 8, fucking enjoying life. Instead I'm living "my dreams" which btw, never included paying over one thousand dollars per month for a roof and some privacy. Anyhoo, in my search for affordable housing I found the funniest thing I've ever seen. Read this actual Craigslist ad...

"I'm guessing there must be other guys around here in the same situation as me: I'm getting divorced, I'm dating & I'm in need of a place to take a date after dinner occasionally. If we pull together 4 guys, all willing to throw in $300/month, we can easily find a nice studio someplace. If we pull together 6 guys, we can get a 1BR apartment. Any guy who tries to actually move in and live there will be physically thrown out by my cousin Louie! Lowkey guy here, 45, self-employed builder, just looking to have a place w/ a well-stocked bar & stereo to bring a date back to.....w/o having to resort to the whole hotel thing...."

WOW...The only thing he forgot was that you have to provide your own R. Kelly CD and Chris Hanson from to catch a Predator will have the hidden camera set up.

.pack yo bags we're....

full. cold. a little angry. not sure why. disconnected from the art.  judgmental. negative. nauseated. numb. uneasy. adrenaline.  conflict.  free.  trapped.  lost.  damp.  annoyed.  betrayed.  frustrated.  hopeful.  hopeless.  impulsive.  intuitive.  robotic.  sad.  stealth.  red.  excited.  thirst  blahhhhhhhhh.  

Three things.

There's a few things I want to vent that have nothing (or everything) to do with one another.

1.  I couldn't watch the inauguration because I was working.  What kind of country is this, anyway? Dear president Obama, I'd like this fixed.

2. Tyrone pooped on my bed while I was gone for the weekend.  How embarrassing for him.  Dear Amanda, I blame you for this.

3.  Jessica, I agree.  Wear some damn flats to the damn club.  That being said, I'd trade shoes whenever necessary.  That's what friends are for.

Word.

yard sale

Its like the contents of my life have been spread out on the lawn of this icy tundra.

Yard sale.

5 cent, 10 cent, dolla.

Expectations of what my life would be like

begging to be bought up 

by someone who doesn't know any better.

(me)

Mom's spending her last 15$ on Bingo

and Dads sitting disoriented in the hospital

John's locked out of the house again.

A

Beautiful Disaster

A

Sublime cataclysm

my

cosmic teacher

my 

terrestrial torment

for

divine epiphany

just a

paragon 

of

perfection in the imperfection

that is

human

existence

You can take the girl out of Miami, but you cant take the Cuban out of the girl.

Cuban Coffee, that is....I am an addict. I even brought home to CT my baby Cuban espresso maker because you can't find the cafecito or colada in these parts. I'm not really sure what I ever did without it. Miami has left it's scar on Sarhita thats for seguro. I feel like I should be making a rap song about this a la Eminem. I'm a sucker- all I gotta say....is cafecito's really got a hold of me.

You can't say blog on an airplane

An excerpt from my travel journal....
"...1/15/09. I just experienced the ultimate in karma. I was sitting at the terminal in philly enjoying a pretzel (carbs don't matter when you're travelling and the southbeach diet does not exist outside sobe). So I'm watching the people get off the plane and one man was so angry about his carry on bag that he proceeded to yell at the first US airways employee in a uniform he could bounce his words off of. Ranting, raving, and otherwise causing a scene. I turned to the hot, 30-something dude sitting next to me and have an excuse now to strike up a convo. "That guy is losing it over there. This is hilarious." We have a good laugh and he complains his nextel isn't working. I thank the buddha that I have an iphone and I am trying to pass time w/ mobile facebook when I had a sudden realization that I've left a bag on the plane. Some of the most important items I brought with me on my impulsive travel. John's diploma, yoga mag, a present for Jeffrey, I was ejected from my seat in a panic and blurt out "FUCK!" I hurriedly ran/walked to the terminal to be turned away and sent to "customer service." What a fucking joke. It was like that episode of the Dave Chappell show where they have that training video for the company where their mission is to piss people off. I say to the customer service "specialist" I left somethign on that Boeing and this lady says "That was smart." I became so enraged that all I could imagine was taking off her head with some sort of automatic weapon. I felt just like the guy who I was laughing at a mere 15 minutes sooner.

Karma's a USAIR employee......"

A new one for the urban dictionary.

Trapper Keeper: (noun)- a persistent, persuing male, a stage 5 clinger. That guy was really cute, but he's a trapper keeper.

This is bullshit

I knew it was going to happen. I dropped my iphone walking home from salsa lessons.  It flashed the "white screen of death."  IT still works perfectly, just there's no screen to prove it.  just white. FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK !!!   I tried everything to bring you back.  Even Apple CPR.  Nothing helped. not even a hard reset.  How have I become so reliant on a piece of technology? It used to be impossible to get ahold of me- now I live for the piece of scrap metal that frustered me for a good 2 hours.  Fuck you, iphone.  I don't need your facebook or your shazam. OR your myspace or text messaging or constant connectivity. I'm even over you, safari.

wait..please come back.  I can't liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive, if living is without youuuuuuuu.  Sing it, Mariah.

I just got...

....a thing to see how many people read this.  click on the link all you want, it will make me feel good about myself.  

The dollar Bazaar- More like Dollar Bizzare

 

Hypoglycemia got the best of  me today so I walked to  vita-life for a smoothie. Getting out of bed and detaching from my dream world has been getting increasingly difficult, there's not enough caffeine in the world.  In my partly sunny (mostly cloudy- whats the difference?) travels I stopped in the local dollar bazaar, hoping to find something as useless as how I felt for a discounted designer price.  (Shameless run on sentence) Its clearly the most ridiculous store in south beach.  A 50 something year old latina with severe magenta lipliner is guarding the "valuables." Among them, this awesome Du-rag, also known as a "wave cap."

 

Its  not bad enough that this thing is in the dollar bazaar,but to add insult to injury,  it costs $1.29. What a rip off.  I bet the extra 29 cents were used for this guy's professional modeling photo shoot.  It looks like something I would make as a joke.  His expression says "Hey, I know kung-fu, don't fuck with my waves or I will cut you."  It also looks like he could be breathing fire out of his mouth like a dragon.  Another option is that he is the infamous Lil' Du Rag, an up an coming pop-rap star that will soon be on blast with his hit new single "Mrs. Hairdresser" in which he will undoubtedly use the T-Payne (Cher) effect to enhance his vocals. 

Hot Sars in the city

I usually take Meridian Ave home from work on my trusty Roadmaster bicycle, but today I had to make a stop in a shop  and ended up finding an alleyway shortcut between Washington and Collins. I must say, there is not much worse on the nares than the smell of hot garbage akin to Jeffrey's designer clothes. ugh. A mixture of 80 degree fermenting banana peels, pizza, and bloody boob job gauze. Miami beach is the city of paradox. The beauty of the ocean cancels out the grime of the populace. Most everyone is on vacation, and everything is priced as such except cuban goods. On that note, I am off to spend my hard earned autistic dollars riding the ocean route to the gym to ride a stationary bike. Impala holla

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

Sitting in a directors chair (thanks Sean) in my halfway furnished apartment, it's a New Year and I'm still doing the same shit.  Sunday blogging watching movies made for theatre but reformatted to fit my landlords wall mounted  50 inch HD plasma.  At your request, I will recap an unforgettable New Year's eve.  The blizzard didn't stop my mom's boyfriend's compulsive gambling habit from accepting 10 dollars in trade for a ride to the casino in slippery arctic conditions.  I arrived and couldn't wait to see your halfway drunk face.  We got our room keys a la R. Kelly, and teleported to the bar and couldn't get drunk fast enough to hopefully kill the braincells that kept flashing my brain the day's memories of  my father mechanically ventilated and you checking out all the other girls.  Finally I'm there and I don't care.  I sing along to one of the greatest 80's gay man duos, Hall & Oates.  She's a maneater,  mu-fucka.  I try to sneak 2 booze drinks from the cart but there's no pulling the wool over the eyes of the Mo-Sun liquor gestapo.  It was probably in my best interest.  I wouldn't have served me either.  Fast forward to  the high roller lounge where our new friends are stoked to get annihilated with us and the drinks keep coming.  I meet a new friend on my way to take a bathroom break from the boys talking about skateboards and whatnot.  A very entertaining young-ish doctor that wants to teach me what I missed in anatomy 1, 2, and 3.  I get back to the table in time for the ball to drop, scream Happy New Year! pound a sip of champagne, and go to our room.  I think I'm grounded.  I swear I'll never drink again if I can just sit in the shower with you allllll day.   Pretend that I'm not leaving and everything's not falling apart.  But, we have to go eventually and my dear we're still goodbye-ing.  Oh,  as long as you love me soooooooo.

Happy....

So this is how I spent the first of January...Limping into 2009 and flying into Miami (correction, Flying into Fort Lauderdale and getting a ride inthe middle of the night to Miami).  This chinese, yet Panamanian born war vet would NOT STOP talking to me.  Really, I had the tray table out and my head on it which is international language of "leave me alone" and I was assaulted with a finger poke to let me know that "The drink lady is coming...do you want something??" Thoughtful, yet obnoxious.  I'm back in Sobe and headed to the beach for some time with the ocean.  hopefully it will bring me back to life, but further from reality.  I guess this is what is supposed to be happening, but I can't wrap my mind around it.  This apartment is a disaster mess.  I can't get out fast enough. La dee da.