Algae for Oil

So my uncle is a scientist who works for a university in the Pacific Northwest. He was in town today and over breakfast at Village Inn he started telling everyone about his current work: turning algae into oil. He even pulled out his laptop to show up where we could find the oil inside the algae. It was like watching a nerdy prospector with one tooth yell out "there's oiiiil in them there organelles!!! OIL, I TELLS YA!"

Personally, I think if he's going to be using alchemy to turn crap into other crap, he should be turning lead into gold or water into wine. But I had to be polite and the idea did seem intriguing, so I asked questions, which he ignored. He dodged when I asked him exactly how much oil you could squeeze out of the algae.

He also claimed that the algae they worked with was genetically-engineered to be virtually indestructible. When I asked him what they did at the lab to make sure this mutant pond-scum didn't get into Puget Sound and bloom like an onion at Outback Steakhouse, he seemed genuinely perplexed.

"That's a good question."

...seriously? A Berkeley-educated, PhD biology professor hasn't thought through the consequences of what happens if his $500 million mutant algae makes its way into the ecosystem? What if it becomes self-aware and decides to start calling its own shots like Skynet?

The algae decided our fate in a microsecond: extermination

All in all, I found his algae-mutate-for-drops-of-oil proposal tantalizing, but economically questionable. And slightly terrifying. He did encourage me to invest in algae farms, saying that pond scum oil would be the wave of the future. Eh. I'll think I'll put my money on emu oil.

If I *had* money, that is.

Soooo...

Had way too much "Christmas cheer" this weekend and got "Christmas sick." The maternal unit was "pissed." She tried to force-feed me menudo the next morning as soon as I woke up, but really, menudo is not appealing at all first thing in the morning. I think she did it as payback. Re-evaluating questionable decision-making patterns for the upcoming year.

In the meantime -- sleeeeep...

Feliz Navidad

Christmas is over. I survived yesterday's Mass in spite of questionable singing. I got two knives, a leather jacket, and cash as gifts. And my aunt snuck me two fairly strong sangrias, which I drank right in front of my mom's face without her knowing. All in all, a stereotypically Chucho-style Christmas.

Now, it's time to get back on another one of my half-assed diets. I wanna get a head-start on my empty promises New Year's Resolutions for 2010. And in all honesty, I'm not looking forward to the new year at EP Fitness. If it's anything like the Rec Center at UNT, for the next two weeks the gym will be flooded with lardos well-intentioned people clogging up the place like arterial plaque.

Seriously, though, I gotta get back on the ball. Sexy takes work. Stupid sexy.

Tabla Rasa

Dear 2010 --

Please get here soon. I did a lot of dumb shit in 2009, and I kind of want to just write this whole year off and call it "finding myself." Oh, learning the hard way about actions and your silly, silly consequences.

I've got fences to mend, bridges to burn, things to forget, and lessons to remember. I need a new start, a clean slate, a second (third? fourth?) chance. I need to limit my intake of Whataburger, caffeine, and The Fray. I should learn to stop going into bulldog argument mode when it comes to politics and instead talk about X-Men mythology more. I need to reconcile New Me with Old Me. I need to do a better job at balancing forces in opposition.

And also, I'm curious to see how many people say "Two thousand ten" as opposed to "Twenty ten."

So stop by when you can. But I'm in no rush. As the Arabs say, al-sabour jameel -- patience is beautiful. See you on the flip side, 2010. And 2009, go to Hell. Don't get me wrong, we had some good times together. But seriously, I'm through with you.


Your pal,
El Guero

A Quick Lesson on Circuit Courts

Today, I'm going to write about circuit courts -- because I'm a nerd and because I'm waiting for the boss' schedule to open up so I can harass him about a motion I finished two days ago that needs his approval.

First of all, a little background on the way things work: if you're an immigrant and you're getting deported, you don't go to court immediately. Granted, they *call* it court, the "judge" dresses up in "robes,"and all kind of legal mumbo jumbo goes down. But it's not court. Really, it's a no-rules, no-holds-barred, everything goes administrative proceeding, kind of like Survivor: The Department of Justice but not really.

Once everything goes down, if you or the government doesn't like what the immigration judge says, either of you can appeal to aptly-named Board of Immigration Appeals, also a part of DoJ. Then, if you don't like what the BIA has to say (and most immigrants don't), you appeal at the appellate level and go to real court at the circuit level.

The circuit courts are the ones that decide what lobbyists Congress *actually* meant when it passed a law. Each circuit is its own special little snowflake when it comes to interpreting law. There are 13 of them, and each one has a unique personality. Here's a map to give you a better idea of how things are divided up:

13 Special Little Gerrymandered Snowflakes!!!

You have to take these personalities into account when you pick cases to cite in your arguments. For instance, although the Supreme Court usually agrees with the 9th Circuit's logic, you have to take what that circuit says with a grain of salt because the judges there are a bunch of bong-toting hippies from the Northern Marianas Islands who believe in things like human dignity and we don't need a buncha damn Californians telling us how to do things in TEXXX-USS. Also, here in Texas, our circuit hates one of the other circuits. I can never remember which one, but we're not supposed to cite from it. I think they slept with our girlfriend in high school or something.

Anyways, ideally if you are an immigration lawyer in Texas, you want to cite cases from the 5th Circuit (THE FIGHTIN' FIFTH!!!!) which includes us, Louisiana, and Mississippi, for some reason. It's hard to find groundbreaking cases that will exonerate your client from the 5th Circuit because the judges tend to not like to think too hard about complicated things be more conservative. A lot of times they will affirm a lower court's ruling and pass the case onto the Supreme Court so those dudes and dudettes can try to make some sense out of the hot ghetto messes.

Right. So where was I going with this? I honestly can't remember. All I know is that my boss wants me to have an Erin Brockovitch moment and none of the circuits are helping me. If I could just find a case where some activist judge (probably in the 9th Circuit) interprets "illegal immigrants" to mean "penguins," that would really help me out.

But it would also make me sad, because then we'd have to deport millions of penguins. And I like penguins.

/nerdiness

Se Habla Español

Dear Everybody --

Yes. I speak Spanish. I know you think that because I'm a güero (EL Güero to you) with the whitest TV anchorman name ever that I either don't speak Spanish or that I only know enough to make an ass out of myself in public. (Yo KEE-air-oh Tah-ko Bell, way!)

I assure you, I'm a lot more fluent than you think I am. I tested out of three years of college coursework and ended up minoring in it. My grandmother doesn't speak a word of English. I've done court-approved translation of Mexican law. Freaking, I GREW UP HERE. "Ese güero nos entiende?"

Si cabrones, we're all required to take Spanish in high school. Even then, even if my mom *wasn't* an old-school Chicano rights activist and I really was a total white boy, you think people honestly don't understand *any* Spanish? It's not like you're speaking some complicated language like Chinese. El carro? You honestly think we can figure out that means "car"? Stupid heads.

Now am I perfect when I speak? No. But chances are, my Spanish is a lot better than your English. And, by the way, yes, I *listen* to music in Spanish. Almost exclusively. Check my iPod. Mana, Reik, Wisin y Yandel, Juanes, everything. Not only that, I know that Gloria Trevi is a crazy sex-pervert who supposedly trafficks young girls for her agent, that Daddy Yankee endorsed John McCain for president, and that Juanes started out in a Colombian metal band called Ekymosis.

So BACK UP, putos! Stop stereotyping me, or else -- palo!!!

This Would Probably Attract Chupacabras

Quote of the Day:

Please, this is TEXAS. If someone tells me I *can't* slaughter a goat on my lawn, that's Big Government. And we don't take that shit here -- Me to "The Baker" (yes, that's your nickname, you know why) re: the offering of goat holocausts to Our Lord

TEMPWAR!!!!

I woke up this morning freezing my ass off as usual. My family has the habit of keeping this house at the same temperature as an industrial-strength meat locker and then criticizing me for "being overdramatic" by wearing a hoodie or jacket inside.

Today I'd had enough and checked the thermostat to see if it was broken. It wasn't -- it was just set to 55 degrees.

WE ARE *PEOPLE* DAMMIT! Buildings in the First World should *not* be 55 degrees. So I cranked that bitch up to 75. When the family returned from morning Mass, they were incredibly upset and "hot." Well, tough shit. We've made it clear that we don't take the feelings of others into consideration when we make decisions. Let the passive aggression turn into an outright thermic war.

Standard negotiation procedure says the temperature should now be set to 65, which is closer to the more bearable temperature range of 68 to 77 degrees cited by Wikipedia as "room temperature." That is, if these miscreants are interested AT ALL in peace. If they do not cave, I shall be forced to continue being capricious. We are not poor. We do not live in a Charles Dickens novel. We can afford to have the heat on.

In fact, maybe I'll leave it on 90 and walk around shirtless in December. That actually sounds pretty nice. It also sounds like another negotiation tactic. No one wants to watch me sweat in boxer shorts. NOBODY. But that's a harsh tactic. I'll hold on to that one for later.

UGH AND MY DAD IS PLAYING OPERA AGAIN!!! THIS FAMILY IS DRIVING ME NUTS UUUUUUUUNNNNGHHH I HATE LIVING BACK AT HOME

/rant

Applications, Applications...

Add to applications list:

George Washington University -- Washington, DC (this school actually has a really badass national security law program. And guess who's into that?)

University of Hawaii at Manoa -- Honolulu, Hawaii (hey now, I really *am* actually interested in Hawaiian culture. And I could see myself making a life there. Just saying...)

EDIT 7:06 p.m. Accepted by the University of Miami...but they didn't offer me anything! Boo to them, that means they're pretty much off the list and that the offer from Baylor is a lot better than I had originally thought. This may be as good as it gets, folks...

Law School Update

Hey, I know this is technically my third post today, but I wanted to give a law school update.

Accepted to the University of Denver. They also offered me a partial scholarship, but the deal's not nearly as good as the one Baylor offered me. Still, chalk up another school on the list. Woot.

Law School Tally:
Accepted - 2
Reject - 0
Still waiting - 16

The bar has been set. Baylor's in the lead. California schools, you gotta step it UP.

Ask El Güero

I will confess that I read the online magazine Slate pretty regularly. Usually they have articles that are interesting or practical, such as this article on how long it takes to dissolve a human body in lye. Very good to know if you live in under constant threat of cartel violence. I will also admit that even though I'm fairly liberal, sometimes Slate gets to be too much for me, especially when its readers ask for advice about problems that only liberals, in particular "limosine liberals," would have.

So, in loyal opposition to Dear Prudence, I have chosen to answer the most ridiculous questions I've seen asked in Slate with my own brand of Chuco-fied straight shooting. Ladies and gentleman, I give you: Ask El Güero!

¡¡¡ASK EL GÜERO!!!
*Mexican hat dance plays* On to our first question!

Dear Güero,
We're having Thanksgiving at my place this year. I'm vegan and I don't want to cook meat for Thanksgiving! In fact, I don't want any meat in my house *at all* because I'm so morally opposed to it. Why can't my family be open-minded? -- Peeved in Peoria

Answer: Because even if you are open-minded, sometimes vegan food just sucks. I mean, seriously, I've *tried* it, but I just can't get into it. I feel like most of the kick people get from eating "organic foods" comes from the fact that they paid more to have bugs crap all over their apples. Look, it's Thanksgiving, a time of year when everyone is expected to compromise their values and deny the core tenets of their identity in order to keep peace with blood relatives you secretly hate. So smile, eat your turkey, and STFU. Gobble gobble!

Dear Güero,
Whenever I hear someone sneeze, I don't say "bless you." My coworkers think I'm rude, but really it's because I feel like that's overtly shoving your religious views down someone's throat! Is there anything else I can say? -- Sneezy in Santa Fe

Answer: How about "I'm a sanctimonious douchebag?" Sneezy, let me ask you -- have you ever uttered the phrase "Oh my God"? Or "good-bye," which started out as a contraction for "God be with ye"? Or the phrase "Goddamit"? I know *I* did when I read this. I'm betting you have to, which makes you a *huge* hypocrite by your own standards. In fact, isn't *not* saying "bless you" kind of a way for you to shove *your* religious views down someone's throat? "Bah, cling to your impotent religion, FOOLS! I will not play your futile little reindeer games by saying 'bless you!' A pox on your houses!"

If, as an godless heathen, it bothers you that you might be invoking some non-existent shaman spirit, you can always quote Nietzche instead. For instance, after someone sneezes you can respond with a polite "God is dead." Or instead of "God bless you," think "Flying Spaghetti Monster bless you." Problem solved. And if you happen to be the kind of person who actually doesn't use any God-derived phrase in speech, your coworkers probably won't be shocked when you tell them something weird after they sneeze, give that you probably talk like a stilted, autistic Martian anyway.

Dear Güero,
I love my family, don't get me wrong, but I have one uncle who thinks that Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, and Sarah Palin are the bee's knees. It gives me social anxiety disorder to be confronted with views different from my own! How do I convince him he's wrong? -- Liberal in Lansing

Answer: You can't. Just drink like the rest of us. Alcohol exists for a reason.

Dear Güero,
My kids, age 6 and 8, love astronomy, but I think NASA is such a waste of money when there's so much starvation here in the United States! Should I feign interest in what they like? On the one hand, I don't think they should waste their time chasing fiscally irresponsible dreams that are ultimately pointless. On the other, I don't want them to think that women can't be interested in science. Help! -- Mom from Mizzou (swear to Jeebus, this was an actual article)

Answer: Oh, the irony of not encouraging your children to chase after fiscally unsound dreams is that fact that you are LIBERAL! Isn't that funny? Ha ha! No? Okay. Here's the answer. Okay, freaking -- yes. You feign interest. And you don't do it to prove some overarching feminist point. You do it because they're your KIDS. My mom faked interest in Pokemon for YEARS, she can probably identify more than I can now. She didn't do it to prove she was a strong, independent woman. She did it because she wanted insight into my world. That's how human relationships work. For instance, my brother loves Norwegian black metal. I've made it clear before that I *hate* that genre of music, but I listen to to what he says about it anyway because, well, he will literally keep lecturing you about the history of metal even after you've made it clear you have no interest in that subject, just to get on your nerves he's my brother and I love him. There's are the sacrifices you make for family. If this stresses you out, drag out that ratty, lime-green mat in the corner and do your yoga.

Thanks everybody! See you next week!

L'snob? C'est moi

Quote of the Day:

"Todavia estoy debating si quiero dejar cheeseburgers pa que yo sea ripped. En este momento, creo que no. Ese pinche payaso de McDonald's me hace gordo pero feliz..." -- Me to La Diosa, re: weight loss

Oh reality checks -- how unwelcome yet necessary you are. If only alcohol could make the impact of the following statement, which is apparently shared by many coworkers, less...impactful:

"Wow, I'm really glad we're talking! You're actually really cool and friendly and fun! I mean, honestly, at first when I met you, I thought you were, like, a snob. You were all quiet. I remember one time I tried to be social, and you said like a one-word answer, and I saw you were on Facebook, and I felt all sad..."

Fantastic. I am the office douchebag. I suppose the upside of this would be confirmation of the fact that I am *not* unfriendly, uncool, and unfunny, but still. I'm the only dude in an office full of women! That's intimidating. Plus I work at a law firm, I can't just stroll in and start talking about what debauchery my friends and I engage in on the weekends! It's not like it's *that* bad, but even if it weren't subject to Bro Code exemptions, it's still not usually office-appropriate.

Whatevz. I'll start going on the charm offensive. I'm really not a withdrawn, anti-social douche! Please love me...

Also, little ego boosts of the day: even at Mulligan's on a Thursday night, I still get recognized. "Hey, you played saxophone in high school, right? You did region stuff and you were really good?" Four years later, they still haven't forgotten about me. I think that tops the time a lady at my gym recognized me as being from the church choir and went off on how good we sound. Top Gun asked, "Dude, you go to church?" Combine this with the generally positive response to my latest Facebook profile picture -- based on the tittering of women worldwide and an uptick in unsolicited friend requests because Facebook usurped my privacy and opened my page up for anyone to see YOU HATERS CHOKE ON YOUR OWN BILE!!! -- and I think I'll be able to absorb the blow of knowing I'm an alleged snob.

Micro-celebrity, thou art sweet.

An Open Letter to Women

Dear Women --

WHY ARE YOU SO CRAZY? It's always the same thing with you guys. Yes, you are all unique individuals with complex thoughts and feelings and you should be respected. But you are crazy and frustrating. This has been especially true as of late, where female interest in me has spiked and yet still left most of the people interested in me off-limits.

Case in point: friend of mine says she ran into someone who knew me."Oh Kirk? I know him! He hit on me and my friend like a year ago! He's cute. Does he have a girlfriend?" Uh, no. I'm also 500 miles away. WHY DID YOU SAY NOTHING WHEN I HIT ON YOU A YEAR AGO?!? If you did I probably would remember who you are. Ladies, it's called "flirt back." I'm not a friggin' mind reader. I don't have a pheremone detector. I never thought *I'd* be saying this to women, but COMMUNICATE.

I need to rant, so here is a short list of the annoying/crazy girls and all the annoying/crazy things they do that I've had to deal with in my life:

* Girls who admire from afar but never say anything
* Girls with glaring personality flaws who want to know why *specifically* you don't like them. That's like asking what *specifically* killed someone in a head-on collision with a semi
* Girls who are space cadets
* Girls who misinterpret innocent gestures as confessions of a deep, unspoken love
* Girls who are off-limits for social, cultural, religious, moral, or ethical reasons (hot though that may be)
* GIRLS WHO ARE HUNG UP ON THEIR EXES. Ugh.
* Girls who suddenly become interested in you when you're 500 miles away
* Girls who finally come around after you've already given up on them
* Girls who may or may not have tried to unsuccessfully poison a romantic rival with a muffin full of ammonia (true story)
* Girls who admit to quasi-stalking you for years without your knowledge
* Girls who are *not* hot and still have the audacity to suggest you make out with your best guy friend WHILE SOBER because that'd be hot for her
* Girls with crazy eyes
* Vegetarians (although to be fair, I've met some very sweet vegetarians, and it's not really a *girl* thing as it is the fact that I just don't like tofu)

God. I know all we have to do is tell you that you're pretty and you smell nice, but c'mon. I'd pull a reverse Mount Holyoke and lez out on guys with all my disillusionment, but that's like saying I'm moving from Phoenix to Libya because I don't like heat. I don't want crazy. I don't want drama. I want nice and stable.

This is all I'm asking: please be a little more sane. If you're interested, don't B.S. me. And speak up. I'm a guy. I'm dumb and emotionally stunted and messed up from years of Catholic sexual repression *must...tighten...cilice...*

But I'm a sweet teddy bear with hands from God. And I'm willing to overlook your craziness if you're willing to overlook mine. Think about it, ladies. Kthxbai.

Your pal, El Guero

Chomsky, King of the Jews?

Quote of the Day:

"I know that not all Jews are bad. I personally love Chomsky" -- My friend "Oussa" from Tunisia, re: Jews

So I got into a discussion with Oussa about U.S. policy in the Middle East via MSN. Fuuuuuun. Don't get me wrong, Oussa is awesome and I love talking to her, but conversations about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict are always tough, especially when your interlocutor is Arab, you're American, and you have to defend a decades-long pissing contest with the Soviet Union and the line of neo-con bullshit spewing from Washington.

Still, the best exchange of the night in my opinion went as follows:

ME: I hope you know that I agree with you on a lot of your points. I'm just playing Devil's advocate :)
OUSSA: Yeah!! You are! Pfft!
ME: Lol
ME: I'm going to be a lawyer, it's what I have to do ;-)
OUSSA: Lol. You'll set criminals free!! I hate you! [NOTE: She didn't really mean that...I think]

Now, I know *usually* saying that someone will set criminals free is a bad thing, but I took it as a compliment that I am good at arguing and that I'd make an excellent defense attorney. Of course, I'd never do that. I have morals. For now. Also, on a personal note, I'm thinking about maybe becoming an entertainment lawyer. I know! How I can go from immigrant advocacy to filing frivilous lawsuits for Quincy Jones? Mortal sin. Don't tell anyone, you guys!

And finally, I saw a Bud Light commercial on Facebook a.k.a. that rich bastard Mark Zuckerburg's personal data Ponzi scheme for selling my individuality to the highest bidder YOU ASSHOLE!!! that translated "drinkability" as "tomabilidad." Ladies and gentleman, we've translated a nonsense word from one language to another.

Cue apocalyspe in three...two...

It's Really the Simple Things in Life

Short post.

The best times in life are not the ones spent slaving away behind a desk or the ones where you feel compelled to recite your resume in an attempt to have somebody judge you. They're the the ones you spend having Kitten Cannon wars and Bowman 2 deathmatches with your buddy on a Sunday night, with True Life, G.I. Jane, and Jackass alternating in the background.

Also, for future reference, speaking Arabic works well when trying to pick up Arab women, but other girls do not find it to be a turn-on. In fact, it scares them a little. Duly noted. Thanks to my man "Top Gun" for throwing it out in our attempt to pick up the hostess at Applebee's, though. He's a good wingman.

People come before all else in life. And youth really is the best time to be alive. It's finite, but I plan on enjoying it to its fullest.

That's all for tonight.

Good News. Actually, Great News...

Hey haters! Choke on this...

ACCEPTED to Baylor University in Waco, Texas. Crazy thing is, I sent my application in six days ago, so I was a little upset when I saw the package at first. I thought it was more recruitment material and I was like "I already have enough brochures. God."

Anyway, turns out I not only got admitted, they're giving me full scholarship in the ballpark of $120,000. And I got a handwritten note from the law school's dean asking me to pretty please accept admission. Worst comes to worst, I graduate almost completely debt-free from a pretty decent law school. That's win.

Take note, other law schools. These guys called first dibs and they treated me right. This is what you have to top. And then there were 17. I'm still not even done sending out applications yet. Hah.

And Baylor -- thank you. I withdraw the Branch Davidian joke I made earlier.

Ima Start Thinking About my L-School Apps Like a Reality Show

OMFG LAW SCHOOL SUBMISSIONS UPDATE LULZ! (Like anyone cares)

Add the following law schools to the list of people who I have chosen to honor with my prescence in their applicant pool. Please don't throw me into your slush pile!

Chapman University -- Orange County, California (damn straight! There's a law school in Orange County...)
University of Denver -- Denver, Colorado (obviously. Full disclosure: my mom got her master's degree here)
Emory University -- Atlanta, Georgia
The University of New Mexico -- Albuquerque, New Mexico (my brother's up for undergrad scholarship here, and it's the closest law school that's not *cough* Texas Tech)
St. Mary's University* -- San Antonio, Texas

I asterisked St. Mary's because they actually REQUIRE my signature and a check, so I haven't *technically* applied yet. WTF, St. Mary's? Make me print out a letter to send you? Ugh. It drives me nuts when law schools have their own little weird requirements. As long as no one asks for a goat heart, I think I'll be fine. ALTHOUGH, if it gets me full scholarship, I can go all Chupacabra for the admissions committee if I need to.

Also, note to Emory: HA! You said I had to keep my personal statement to two pages, but you didn't say shit about the *margins*. That's right, I'm going all lawyer on your butts now. Narrow margin option on Microsoft Word FOR THE WIN. Read it. Love it. Give me money. Please.

By the way, NONE OF THESE were fee waiver schools, so you guys should feel honored that I'm paying real money a majority of which will come from my parents to deal with you. I don't get paid to fight the Man, you know.

...seriously, please let me in. I'll be good, I promise. I love you :-D

EDIT 11:00 MST Dudes, I just counted. I've already applied to 18 different law schools. And I still have about five or six more to go. I think this makes up for the fact that I only applied three places for undergrad. *Bitter*

Stopping for Wi-Fi on a Snowy Morning

First order of business: Kristoph's Coffeehouse CLOSED! In August, according to my cousin! And my friends and I who "loved" it barely noticed! We all tried to remember when the last time we went was and we really couldn't. That's probably why it closed.

For what it's worth, I kind of hated that place in high school. In fact, I kind of hate pretentious-ass coffeeshops and what they represent in general, but now that I've gotten hooked on caffeine, I have to repress that anger, buy a $4 effeminate-sounding coffee, lie back, and think of England. (My caffeine abstention failed quickly, in case you were wondering a couple weeks ago.)

So why am I looking for Wi-Fi? Because I'm still writing that article, still waiting for people to call me back, and I can't get anything accomplished at the house. It's a Hell that sucks from me all motivation. So I've gone looking around for free Wi-Fi on the East Side. Here's what I found.

Kristoph's -- Closed. Obviously no Wi-Fi there.

El Paso Library Irving Schwarz Branch -- You FAIL me, socialism! I show up at 10:15 a.m. on a Tuesday morning looking to take refuge in your hallowed walls, and I find out you don't start working until noon. Like some pothead. It'll be another two years before I visit YOU again. Pfft.

Burger King on Lee Trevino -- You had so much potential. You really did. I walked in at 10:23ish and your cashier looked at me like I was silly when I asked if it was too early for chicken fries. You had free Wi-Fi! You were clean! No one was there! You even had the TV tuned to CNN! I would have NEVER thought that I would feel like yelling out "Nasir's point about Pakistani ISI involvment in Afghanistan is SPOT ON!" in a Burger King. It was like heaven on earth. But you didn't have power outlets. And my battery was low. A Romeo and Juliet love tragedy with grease. I'll miss you.

Starbucks on Lee Trevino -- Screw that. They've raped me of enough of my money already. And their Wi-Fi costs $4. In Tunis I could get Wi-Fi Internet access with purchase of a bottle of Coke (Kookah-Koola) and I could get coffee that fucked me up good for like a dime. And that's AFRICA. Kiss my hipster ass.

Village Inn on Trawood -- Why are there five million people at VILLAGE INN on a snowy Tuesday morning? What the hell is this, a Norman Rockwell painting? Forget that.

Carl's Jr on Lee Trevino across the street from Hanks High School -- Let me just say: I HATE CARL'S JR.! I'd rather gnaw on poison than shove one of those abominations they call "burgers" down my gullet. But they have free Wi-Fi. They also have a flat-screen TV tuned to CNN, but the volume's turned down. I can't hear news over the sound of Lady GaGa taking a ride on my disco-stick. Still, this is where I've settled, STILL waiting for NMSU to call me back. I hate journalism. I'll probably be camped out here, nursing Diet Coke refills and listening to Enrique Iglesias' "Escape" on a loop until I get kicked out. "You can ruuun, you can hiiide, but you can't escape my loooove..."

Fun fact from the graffiti in the bathroom, though: "BOBBY LIKES COCK!!! ALOT! (sic)" and "Frankie eat's dick (sic)" Good to see the kids at Hanks are getting a good education. And remind me to stay away from Frankie, whoever he (she?) is.

EDIT 12:02 P.M. Oh crap. Today's the first day of December. And I forgot what my New Year's Resolution for 2009 was.