I was driving on 75 depressway trying to get out of the rush hours of 3-5pm because it was my happy birthday and I did not want to deal with bu%^^&&holes on my happy birthday, when I noticed coming off the ramp a big, yellow sign with some black lines that read 45 mph. Hell No, I did not read it! I just remembered it because I have been pulled many of times around the DFW! However, the truck before me apparently has not, when I saw this blue, Camaro with Xmas lights on, speeding like he was after a hot tamales truck on Thanksgiving Day at Tia’s house, because you don’t want to go to my anonymous Tia’s house and eat her tamales. Just trust me on that one.
I know, not fair. I agree. This time and age, there should not be any undercover police pulling anyone over. That @#$%^ was ok in the 70-90’s, but there are too many hoodlums impersonating police officers with unmarked cars and Xmas lights hurting law-abiding folks like you and me. Nonetheless, he pulled the truck over and proceeded to do what cops do. Right, shoot the driver. NO!!!! I mean no!!!! You know get and ID and ask if he had been drinking, raping or stuff like that. NO!!!!!! I mean no!!!!! You know, get an ID and ask cop questions, whatever those questions may be. Exactly! “)
So, I was a bit inconvenience because one, it’s my happy birthday and I don’t want to see Xmas lights. Two, that sign is as old as dirt and we all know that is a speed trap, because you’re hauling @& & out of the depressway and trying to ease transition to oncoming traffic and must make the move and can’t possibly go to 45 mph porque te aplastan!!!! Three, no three, just one and two.
So, I did what I do best. I callously ignored the situation because it was none of my b’ness, and it was my happy birthday. So I went into meditation mode and concentrated on the following thought: Breathe, none of your b’ness. Breathe, none of your b’ness, as I passed the PoPo and the driver with my video running- you never know, it might just sell. I can’t help it! It’s the entrepreneur in me.
When right in front of me! Yeap more Xmas lights and low and behold a truck and an SUV vehicle parts and fumes cluttered the road that for our safety had to be shut down. I’m not sure what happened? But it seemed like the white truck T-boned the SUV. If I’m right, then the white truck came down from the “45 mph” ramp onto oncoming traffic and may have had to speed up to overcome traffic and T-boned the SUV. Eerie quiet was the atmosphere as I approached the site. No, not as a Samaritan, just trying to squeeze on to my happy birthday. Don’t even try to make me feel bad because you can’t. Plus there were too many qualified firefighters, and EMT’s on the scene but were not moving too fast and you know what that means……
I did not want to check, but there might have been a fatality or two. Maybe that ramp should not be there…..It’s too close to the traffic light.
Salsa Pig by Mambo Chismoso
I went to Racetrac for a cup of coffee. Let me tell you about this cup of coffee ( French Vanilla cream, whip cream, and marshmallows). All for a 1.07 “) I’m not cheap. I’m not a dumb@&& either. It is a nice price for a super size coffee with as much whip cream, and as many Marshmallows the cup can hold. But that’s not the real reason, I’m telling you this.
As I waited for the fresh batch of coffee beans, I saw this delicious looking guerito that looked like the guy from Prison Break. He was tall, guerito, green eyes, thin, and he looked like he worked out. I saw him by the ice cream bar. Don’t judge, I was just looking at the ice cream, I wasn’t buying. :*( But that’s not the real reason, I’m telling you this.
As he emerged from the ice cream toppings section, I got a really good look at him. He was wearing, shorts, up to his waist like a gentleman. And that @&& looked so hot!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeap, that’s the reason, I’m telling you this.
As he approached to pay for his Ice Cream toppings, he looked my way. Yeap, I got skills, but you knew that. Right?
As I looked at his physique, from top to bottom, I saw a monitor bracelet on his right ankle, right beneath the delicious sweaty, calf muscle. Yum! Yum!
You know, the bracelet right? It looked like the one they put on very expensive merchandise at Nordstroms. Yeah, I look there too, but I don’t buy….. yet “)
Then I thought…… # bad boys with a price tag # how much?
Salsa Pig by Mambo Chismoso “)
I went to Zumba yesterday x 2. I’ve been gaining the pounds due to inactivity and people feeding me every time they see me. What is it about me that makes people feed me? They must think I’m an animal at the zoo. My face brings the impulsiveness out of people to put some delicious food in front of me. Well, no more. I was asked to come up for tacos last night and I put my foot down. No more, I went to Zumba and I ate fresh fruit (1 cup of pineapple and 1 pear neatly sliced). Zumba was a mess. This 24 hour fitness has a nice 1.5 hour class on Saturdays but during the week is a mess. The class was demanding and high impact- I’m ok with that. But the girls in here are nasty!!!!!
Nasty!!!! I tell you. The classes started with “raise your hand if this is your first Zumba class?” Well, hell that did not apply to me but as the class started it was quite clear that it actually did. I was 3 rows from the front and could get a good look at the instructor. I was super excited because I have not been able to master one Zumba class yet. I’m an ok dancer yet, I cannot figure out the steps or sequence. Was aerobics that hard? I do Zumba like the guys do Zumba. I have got to get better at this.
So, I was determined to really focus and get all the steps correctly this time. Then it happened. Oh, it happened ever so silently. The smell in the room was beyond foul, and I have seen my share of S**t through the years. I had to stop to see if anyone else was affected by this clear violation of sportsmanship conduct. Surely there’s a book somewhere about this. I couldn’t’ stop it from going into the filtering system in my lungs. My throat was closing down in an attempt to save me from the disgusting smell. Everyone seemed to be unaffected by this event. I wasn’t sure if they had did not smell it or they were use to it.
Then it hit me. I could sing along!!! You cannot breathe when you sing. That will give the smell plenty of time to dissipate and everything will be all right. I couldn’t sing long enough. I had to breathe. Why is this smell not dissipating? Then another attack!!!!! Who the hell is doing this? You know what they say “the criminal always returns to the site of the crime.” I just couldn’t figure out which A** H&^% it was. Gotcha! Direct eye contact! Nasty B****! So, I moved, to the very front of the class. Now I’m looking for another Zumba class
I saw this guy with Salsa skills. He was with a girl who was wearing a tight skirt up her hooha, and high heels, 4 inch at least. Soon, the club began to resonate with the sound of the Clave. Was it a 2-3 Clave or 3-2 Clave? Don’t be too technical, just follow it. He enthusiastically grabbed her and took center stage of the dance floor, as we who also enjoy the sound, looked on. No, I take it back; the girls were looking while the Salsa boys were perusing the club looking for a Salsa dancing prey. Me! Me! Me!
So he tried a basic steps, a couple of turns and a spin. She of course, was clueless, as in Salsa clueless. She was so excited to be on the dance floor, and was eager to learn the steps. He brought it down a notch and did a basic step and a right turn, and she was of course still clueless, as in Salsa clueless. He then brought it down yet another notch, and did a basic step and what looked like a cross body lead out of the dance floor as he nodded to her “no, no, no.”
She kept asking him to teach her but he just kept nodding his head “no, no, no.” He is not being mean. You cannot learn Salsa Dancing on a Spring night after a couple of shots of Tequila or Vodka. I’m not judging. I’m just saying. I lost tract of him because the DJ’s were merciless for they played, Salsa, Bachata, and Merenge until it was time to close the club doors.
I saw the guy one more time that night. It was on my way out of the club. He was drinking his sorrows away as his body swayed in perfect timing to the Clave in the company of the girl with the tight skirt up her hooha, and the heels, 4 inch at least. He was miserable.
Girls, get your learn on, as in Salsa or the boy you are with will be leaving you at home. I’m only telling you this because I luv you.
Imma gonna share something with you that’s gonna make you not like me so much. But I know the kind of bitches of friends that I have so here I go.
I once had a boyfriend who would do anything for me. Actually, they all have but that’s not the point.
I was feeling passé, I guess. Anyway, he came over one morning. Yeah, that’s right! I’m a good Catholic girl, none of this spending the night bullshit…..unless they pay my bills, present and future bills. But that’s not the point.
He brought me a sandwich with my favorite drink so I won’t feel so passé because he did not know what passé meant (Red flag!).
I sipped on my favorite drink as I opened my sandwich and to my dismay, it did not have cheese!!!! I love cheese by the way, and God knows he won’t ever forget it. 😀 But that is also not the point.
I wanted to yell out of the top of my lungs but I couldn’t because my body was in full save the bitch mode by responding to the signals of my carina, which just activated a full cough reflex. My brain also had send messages to a part of my larynx, and just like that my epiglottis moved closer to my larynx to block all fluid and particles from entering my lungs. The same epiglottis that had failed me seconds before and put me in this mess to begin with. All of this while, my uvula did nothing, absolutely nothing. But that’s not the point.
I managed to voice a raspy whisper that stated clearly, “it doesn’t have cheese!” Trust me, my face expression carried the message stronger than any shouting match on this side of the Mississippi.
He got up and looked at me so perplexed. I guess, he was waiting for a Thank you or something? But you all know me, and gratitude is something I would have to learn in my later years. Today I was the Bomb!!!!
So, he politely excused himself, and said, I will be right back.
That’s right!!! That’s how I do it!!!!
He returned promptly (he was an avid runner) with another food item. I opened my breakfast to be, to find out it was a doughnut with extra cheese on top of it.
No he didn’t!!!! Yes, he did.
Oh, Goal accomplished. I no longer feel passé. Now, I’m pissed!!!
So, I got up to my feet, and showed him the door, and that was the end of that relationship.
For all of you who want to take his side. First of all, we had been dating for a while, and everywhere I went I order cheese in all languages in whatever country we were at. Second of all, how the hell are you going to try to teach me a lesson with props?
Anyway, he is happily married, and has been for years. Me? Single. I wonder why? You don’t want to hear what happened to the guy that bought me the wrong flowers for Valentine’s day. He is also happily married….. and I’m still single 😛
He got married. The 6ft1 inch, brown hair, green emerald eyes full body size of nothing but deliciousness got married. The man of my dreams- no lie. My dream actually did not appear in my head until I saw him. I knew he was the one. Too bad the universe had other plans. I had a chance actually, but I didn’t take it- not sure why. Oh, I remember. I was kindly waiting my turn. I didn’t want to be the rebound girl. He had divorced his beautiful wife, and it was a year before the news reached my ears.
Then on Dooms day- how appropriate? The day of the end of the Mayan Calendar, I heard it. He got married. These are not the news you want or need to hear as Humanity’s existence is at risk of being extinct from the face of the earth. On this day, all I wanted to hear his gentle voice- even a whisper would have sufficed. Yet, there it was staring me in the face or ears. He got married!
I’m not sured how I felt when I heard it. Dissapointed? No. Angry? No. How could I? Predictable! Is there a feeling for predictable? There it is. I’m shallow. You see it right? I don’t even know my feelings. I don’t even know feelings. But Im sticking to this one- Predictable.
Oh, I’m so sorry. I must apologize, where are my manners? I am Salsa Pig. Nice to meet your acquaintance. And you already met the blog? Mambo Chismoso.
Back to me. Guys are too insecure to stay single for long. They can’t be alone. It is almost as if they’re violating the man rules. I don’t think they hook up because they want to get laid. I think they hook up because they want their man friend’s verbal approval to echo the community. Just as if someone had score a touchdown on the last seconds of game as they were coming from behind. As if!!!
You tell me. How did you feel? What did you do? How did you take? Me? I didn’t take it like a man. Why should I? I don’t have to. I decided to feel it for a split seconds only and let it go. I added him to the list of “the ones that got away.” Then it hit me. That list is getting kinda long ….