Courage is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.
It’s been a while, so let’s code a tad y’all. Not like the norm at all. Why? Well, crack is like the lips tag-teamin’ with the straw, and I, the diet coke. Some rules… Forget all that glitters is bling – it’s not. Keep your page neat and simple, and use it in whatever manner you wish and the rewards can be quite fulfilling.
Alls good in the K180 hood, thanks for asking y’all. I’ve connected with Finch, AJ, Joanne, and Sabrina, to name a few, as we stand strong behind our beloved Habitants. And daily zips ‘n zaps are sent from the T-dot to NYC, and vice-versa, holding unexpected Life-long friendships intact. It’s amazing. Life takes so many turns, and when those turns end up being clean and crisp, that my friends, is a true gift.
Damn cold ass this morning. Had to do the double-key action so that I can heat my civic up and lock ’em doors. You know me, mister paranoid someone shady’s gonna jack my ride. And ocd still, to boot, doing my counts before driving off and upon parkin’, still doing 180s and 360s to untangle myself from that imaginary string, triple checking stove knobs and door locks, and aligning my mousepad to the desk crack daily before jettin’ home.
The three-thirty-five’s been civil as of late. (yes, Kuya’s writing skillz haven’t changed – mad deets to grammar yet slang always thrown in for good measure.) My roommate and I have been getting along. No craziness and psychotic episodes as of late. (hope I didn’t just jinx it.) Lil miss V’s vocab is unbelievable I tell ya. She’s putting strings of 4 words in clear, very understandable utters. And she’s a joker too. She’ll call you over, and when you’re about 5 feet away she’ll place her hand out and yell “stop… stop peaz…” Then she’ll turn her head slightly, with her eyes peeking from the corner, smile, and run. But the ultimate, the supersonic deal is when you ask her to do the “monkey”. Y’all thought the elephant was fly??? The monkey takes the cake. She’ll scream in a high-pitched voice, like monkeys do, and jump up and down while tickling her underarms. Priceless. And speaking of tickling, when you least expect it she’ll sneak from behind and slowly run her fingers on your back while saying “teeko, teeko, teeko!”
Some kids end up having some toy, usually a stuffed animal as their security. You know, a bear or doll they’ll take to bed with them, or even a blanky like Linus. Lil miss V? Two small plastic figures: Boots and Dora. It never fails. Come ‘night-night’ time, she’ll grab those 2 before going to bed, one in each hand, and fall asleep with the poor characters in an unbreathable, tight grasp. Then, it’s rise and shine with her first few words of the day… “oh, Dora… Boots… where Daddy, where?” We’ll end up spending five minutes every morning shakin’ the sheets and pillows around in hopes of finding the two.
I hope alls good and fly in all your hoods. It’s Friday, and we’ve started stoopids Friday two days ago! Juliet was so confident she could down 6 crackers in 1 minute. That she did not. Video footage and pics taken by Val so check the CrackSpace to see the shizzle that went down. I’m on an unscheduled DDC tonight with my angel, the Habs shut the Canes out 4-0 last night, I just got myself a 512mb Cruzer, and Jill says single Annica is a hotty. Hook that shizzle – Life is good.
Big congrats and mad props going out to the Washy, Reeves, and Josh family as they bring in to this world a beautiful baby girl, Chantal Marisa. Chantal was born on Thursday, October 26th at 11:06am, at a healthy 7lbs and 10 oz. Mommy, daddy, and big brother Joshua are ecstatic and are all doing fine.
Damn I feel good right now. The Habs over the Leafs in a shootout. That’s all I have to say.
Just when we thought we’d heard it all.
This entry will appeal most to all you wizard mathematician alike. The topic is “pi”, and the question is “why?”
Pi is the indefinite number which has no repeating pattern or sequence. We all probably know it as 3.14. (At least that’s what Mr. Azzopardi and Ms. Watts told me in High School.) Wikipedia defines it as a mathematical constant with a value of approximately 3.14159. An irrational, real number which relates to the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter.
Some 60 year old business consultant brainiac from Japan, with fly-mad memory skillz, one Akira Haraguchi, took 16 hours from his life to recite, from memory, this very value to… 100,000 digits. Yes. 100,000 digits y’all. (Look above at our “3.14” – that would be three digits. Look at Wikipedia’s definition. That would be six digits.) The man broke his own record of 83,431. Apparently he could have gone on. He took 10 minute breaks every one or two hours during his performance, not ever having to restart because of a screw-up. Twenty-nine of his fellow employees watched and took tallies, witnessing this GWR act.
“I didn’t feel anything particularly sensational,” Haraguchi said. “I just poured out what was in my mind, but I am happy about the achievement of (reciting) 100,000 digits,” adding to this that he has no plans on attempting to set another record.
The boyz are back. Let the games begin. The NHL kicks off the 2006-2007 season tonight, with the Habs’ first game in Buffalo on Friday, followed by a visit to the Air Canada Centre Saturday night. Seriously, the Habs look damn mighty this year. No joke. Any intellectual, hockey-minded non-Habbie will even agree. All 4 lines look polished. Watch out for line #2, with Pleks centering the two speedy Russians.
The Habs haven’t looked this good since 1993.
Here’s hoping a tick in the “L” column for the Laughs tonight, and perhaps a repeat versus the Sens tomorrow, and a definite L when they face my Habitants on Saturday. (Maybe we’ll see Domi and Stronach in the stands…)
Hockey’s back. Life just got that much better.
Things are fly. Today, my Lolo would have been 86. He was awesome. A quiet, kind, baseball-loving, family comedian. But what he loved the most was to visit the local casino and gamble his cheddar on $1 or $5 slot machines. And who would he ask to be his chauffeur? You got it.
I enjoyed trips to Woodbine and Rama with him. He always had a crazy story or two to tell. And he’d always treat me to some kickass food for lunch or dinner, complete with cervezas at the cha-ching-tuary. The best part though was leaving home. Lola would give him shit for always asking me to drive him just so he can throw his money away and waste my gasolina. “Ta-mah-na!” (sp?) was what we would hear repeatedly as we walked towards my car. I would always reassure her that everything was gonna be ok. I’ll stop him if he goes overboard. All in all, although strongly objecting to those trips, she was still nonetheless happy he was taking the excursion avec moi, no doubt.
So, here now is my short-short story. Told many times, but would like to be re-told because today is his day, and this story was his doing.
A few months after his passing, I decided to take a solo trip to Woodbine, the closest casino to my home back in my T-dot days. (Btw, solo trips are the ultimate. If you haven’t done so already, do yourselves a favour and book a solo trip to the Dominican and bachata away, you won’t be sorry. Or just walk over to the closest Tim Horton’s and chill. Or pack yo’ shit now and drive to Ottawa. Tres awesome-ige.) My grandpa loved playing this one machine called Black Tie. It never failed… every trip saw a visit to the same slot machine, and if occupied, would be revisited after some time. So I headed straight for this very machine, without a squiz at any of my Blazin’ Sevens, and 2 pushes of a button later found myself with $200. Crazy. Usually I would continue, until losing it all and then some, the greedy cheddar-whore that I am. But this was freaky shizzle y’all and so I thought, let’s walk away now at a +$200… a nice little regalo from Lolo. I was there 10 minutes tops.
Happy Birthday to you Lolo. May you continue to watch and care for us from up above, and may you also one day lead me to the right slot machine. Perhaps that same BT slot is waiting for me, so I must pay a visit soon.
“koo, ahr, ess, tee, ooh, bee, woo-woo-woo, ehx, why an zee…” (-lil miss V)
That’s right y’all. I’m sending out this birthday wish to my very own friggin’ blog. (say it Juliet, say it… “so sad!”) It has been one year to this very day since Kuya first started firing out creative rants and masterful thoughts, all thanks to undercover intros from his flygirl C-Diddy and her “Bantering One Way”. We’ve been through quite a ride, and many moves later now find ourselves causing shit ‘n chaos at WordPress once again – The 180, a division of 10th & 3rd. A “serious lack of commitment” (as phrased by Claudia) due to mad OCD, and interfaces unable to satisfy Kuya’s needs. Add to this a dash of addiction, sauced creativity, and an equally essential desire for growth and progress.
Here’s the recap:
Post 001-131: SalonTiago
Post 132-169: SanGiordano
Post 170-236: Kuya180 (Blogger)
Post 237-251: Multiply
Post 252-present: Kuya180 (WordPress)
I wish I had a video montage cut for y’all complete with random and favourite snapshots of entries fading from one visual to the next, with Chicago or The Carpenters playing in the background, but I don’t. Hey, I got skillz but I’m no Frankie Martinez.
Mad props and much Love to all my loyal readers. Thank you. Kuya One Eighty at WordPress is now where it’s at, so secure your cinturon-seguridads y’all as we move forward to the next year.
Does it really serve a purpose? An effective statement? Or is it just a trend, a call to fit in because all other minivan-carrying-kids have them? I’m not dissin’ it. (well, maybe just a tad.) Family members, friends, and co-workers alike have it and I ask them the same question all the time.
Guaranteed the next cruise you take in your ride you will inch closer to that vehicle in front of you stopped at the red, with this sign hanging on the rear window swaying back and forth.
We have speeders, the left-lane 10-under the limit drivers, the cell phone stick-shiftin’ coffee sippin’ multitaskers, the fresh off the MOT-look what I can do’s, the 95 year old super great grannies and gramps, face to the wheel-focals left at home oblivious risktakers, the early twenties rico-suaves in their daddy’s benz making the 407 their 500. There are all kinds. Bottom line is, I highly doubt even 10% pay attention to this very sign, and of the ones who do would change their driving habits and yield a little extra caution when in the vicinity of that very car. Am I wrong?
I’ll admit it. As I spot this ‘yellow diamond on the road’, my cafe does not end up in the cup holder, nor does the conversation with Eva Longoria on my celly end. My right foot does not slowly and naturally rise up. My 125 degree reclined bucket seat in the civic does not hit that so-called comfortable, po-po desiring 105 is safe y’all. I simply continue my drive in my ride to the local Mac’s for my nikkis, same as I would had I not seen that b.o.b.-beautified Uplander.
Agree or disagree?
Don’t bother posing your Q’s. The answer is quite obvious. I have a serious problem with sittin’ still. I’m back at WordPress, and this time ’round I’m feelin’ the flow. Maybe, just maybe it’s all because of my natural need to dance. ‘Cuz y’all know, you ain’t sittin’ motionless when you’re groovin’ to phat, off the hizzle tracks. (yes, I said ‘ain’t’… and ‘phat’… and ‘hizzle’… you should know me better – the grammatical freak who loves to contradict and talk mad lingo.) Assess that.
I’m working from home today. My angel is taking a much needed kip right now, after battling this nasty ear infection and its evil sidekick fever-four-zero. Fuck, it’s the hardest thing ever… any parent will tell you. You instantly feel what they feel and it eats you up inside and spits you out like Joe Torre‘s chewing tobacco. But the best part of it all is, at the end the one thing that brings them back to 180%, even if for a split second, is when they’re in your arms enclosed in comfort, knowing you are there, and will always be there for them.
We watched 5 hours of Dora the Explorer this morning. It was awesome.