What Papi Chulo is ...


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Reading/ Watching/ Listening

 Reading: The Rules of Civility by Amor Towles. I didn't like it nearly as much as A Gentleman in Moscow . In fact, I liked it only barely enough to keep reading. Watching: Poker Face , on Peacock. Papi and I have enjoyed watching this, one episode at a time, and not every day. It's a little formulaic, but the sets and the guest stars are fun. I like that it changes scenery every episode. Listening to: The Beatles Channel, Sirius XM. Ever since watching Get Back , the Beatles documentary, I've enjoyed listening to them with new ears.
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All About the Boy

I’m never sure how much personal stuff to write on this blog, but every now and then I feel compelled to share. And so right now, even though I’d rather be writing gift guides and assorted other nonsense, I’m just going to rant. Emmet has Asperger’s Syndrome. Look it up. It’s a disorder related to Autism, but sufferers are said to be “high functioning.” Just looking at him, you’d never know that anything was wrong. But if you spend some time with him, you’ll see that he has trouble with social functioning. Asperger’s sufferers (they call themselves “Aspies”) aren’t good at self-reflection, and they aren’t good at picking up on social cues. They're also (in most cases) uncoordinated, and they tend to have a variety of tics (physical and behavioral). On top of this, Emmet has an anxiety disorder. Emmet’s life is tough. He is in trouble constantly at school because of the little tics that he’s developed, and because of his anxiety, and because he is afraid of going to the bath
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The Bikini Wax: An Internal Dialogue

God, this is horrifying. I wonder if she's as embarrassed as I am. OW! Ow MOTHERFUCKER! Okay, this hurts less than childbirth, but only because it doesn't last as long. What is she saying? I wish I spoke Vietnamese. I think I outweigh the entire staff combined. Dude, where is she going? They need a picture on this ceiling. They would probably put up a picture of Hannah Montana. I will not think about Miley Cyrus. I will not think about Miley Cyrus. Hey, I bet my nails are dry. I wonder if the liquor store next door sells ice. Next time I'm paying more for a place with numbing cream. Which is worse -- being her or being me? OW. Me. At times like this it's good to have some poetry memorized. 'Twas brillig and the ... the ... Dammit. HOW BIG IS MY VAGINA? She could have mowed the back 40 by now. God, how come nobody told me this shit was growing halfway down my leg? Did I water the clematis last night? Next time: vodka first. Next time: Vicodin first.
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