Author: gabezal

To the person that stole my Laundry Bag from the laundry room…

by gabezal, posted in Life

I hate you. I hate you as much as any one person can hate a potentially non-existent foe. How retarded can you be? Very, very retarded is the answer. You must have some semblance of a brain because your basket taking caper has thus far gone unsolved.

Please rest assured that you will be apprehended as soon as I get off the couch and turn off the TV. But I will run into my bag again. I just have to. There is no way this was not an inside job. No prints or excessive lint trails at the scene. You are good my friend. You are good.

I am convinced you know who I am am. Now that I have to lug my clothes to and fro in a white trash bag like I were a ghetto Mexican Santa Claus, I am convinced you are enjoying yourself. Well this not being a violent crime I can’t say that I hope you die but I at the very least wish that you one day get a puppy and he dies in your arms. Then I hope you scream to the heavens for retribution and remember me, the guy that only wanted to get out of taking a laundry bag back and forth from his apartment so he left it in the laundry room. He did this because he was convinced there was no one so completely void of a soul that they would snatch my only laundry bag. Do you not understand that I am lazy and will not buy another until I am coincidentally standing next to one in the store.

I am sorry I take it back. I hope you die.

Best,

Some Dude you totally fucked over.

Open

by gabezal, posted in Food, Life, Movies, Uncategorized

I just ate my fourth burrito in as many days. This is not my only burrito feat. I once had two burritos in one day. These are the types of achievements not made out of planning and fortitude. They are created from living a certain lifestyle. I did not wake up one day and plan to eat two burritos in one day. Happenstance and luck created the moment when I looked down at crumpled paper and foil and thought “Shit, I just ate two burritos today.” The nap that followed allowed for the requisite self reflection. Why am I doomed to eat copious amounts of food as if I were about to hibernate for a few months? The answer hit me like the tail end of a buffet bender. I love food.

I love how it tastes, smells, and sizzles. I love that carnitas have some symbiotic relationship with guacamole and lemon that make them truly great friends. I love that the aromatics from an Italian meat sauce are so closely aligned with the taste that I can decide the quality before a taste test. I love burgers. I love foie gras. From Tapas to yakitori, this blog is sort of a diary of indigestion and delights. So let’s laugh, drink, and eat. I will make sure there is plenty of napkins and the tums as always are by my bed.

Goodbye My Friend

by gabezal, posted in Food, Life

There are two moments in my life that I remember with utter fondness; the first time I grabbed a boobie and the first time I opened my first can of Sparks. Sparks, as many know, is an alcoholic beverage produced by the good people at the Miller Brewing Company. It was their great wisdom that acknowledged how many drunks were busy passing out when they could still be awake and drinking. Well today they have decided to stop selling it thanks to an injunction by the State of Illinois.

Imbibe one Sparks and your night was that much sweeter. Of course if you happen to drink two or more you felt like you were having a heart attack and your face was melting for a good 45 minutes. But isn’t there a price for fun sometimes?

Well it seems that Sparks will be no more. So it is with this news that I give you my top three favorite times I drank Sparks and didn’t die:

3. The day I found Sparks Black label. This is the same exact drink with 1% more alcohol. That’s like having a girlfriend with 1% less talking.

2. My good friend James, my brother, and I decided to Spark gun. This is essentially the same as shot gunning a regular beer but with the added bonus of chugging a malted energy drink. After Spark gunning you realize that Sparks is not meant to be downed in less than 10 seconds. I remember not feeling bad immediately after. But I distinctly recall not feeling remotely good either. It was kind of like the time I sat down and watched Donnie Darko. I felt confused and was sure something was about to happen but nothing ever did, and I am pretty sure I threw up after.

1. The very first time, my brother and I sat across from each other and stared at two tall cans of what looked like energy drinks. After popping one each and tasting the beverage we realized it did not taste “that bad.” After half the can we experienced noticeable energy and wherewithal. After a whole can we decided to open and down the second in record time. This was immediately followed by the sensation of dying and total loss of wherewithal.

The state of Illinois gave us Barack Obama. Today, however, they reversed their graciousness by taking away Sparks. Shame on them. How am I supposed to celebrate our first black president with no malted beverage to kick it on the stoop with?

Designated Driver – A Re-cap of Time

by gabezal, posted in Life

9:45 – Show up at friend’s house

9:46 – You are made Designated Driver of the night by a controversial game of “Superman, Superman fly away.”

9:46 – You really want to drink beer, badly.

9:48 – Friends invent new drinking game that is both awesome and easy to understand.

9:55 – You make a case to stay in the night while your friends make fun of your lazy nipple. You immediately regret taking off your shirt at the request of your friends.

10:03 – The rowdiness level has gone up steadily every second you entered the house. Your friends are now annoying to anyone not drunk.

10:04 – You are now packed in a car with your friends.

10:04 – The smell of fart permeates from the back of the automobile. Surprisingly not funny to you.

10:15 – Destination reached.

10:25 – It should obviously be 12:00 but your watch and the time of others clearly shows 10:25.

10:30 – You have entered a time zone where time does not actually move forward but for the slightest increments.

10:33 – The thought of getting drunk and totally screwing your friends over crosses your mind. You would absolutely go through with the plan if only you were drunk enough to go through with it.

11:15 – You finish the beer you have been nursing for the past hour. Your friend Mike is now grinding your other friend Paul as Mike’s girlfriend looks on in horror. You try to explain that Sexy Back is on and well, that’s kinda what they do…

11:25 – You have now given up on time and try to convince your self that you are having a good time.

11:25 – You realize you are not having a good time.

11:34 – Still not having a good time.

11:45 – “No man I don’t have to drink to have a good time.”

11:45 – You must drink to have a good time.

12:00 – Last call in two hours. Solitary tear rolls down cheek.

12:15 – Friend Mike almost pukes then passes out. You hold back the cheers and help him out the door.

12:25 – With Mike passed out in the back you take the “brahs” on a late night eating run.

12:45 – This normally tastes good when I am drunk…

1:15 – Friends out of your car, mission accomplished, on your way home!

1:15 – Your car still smells like farts…

A Love Burns

by gabezal, posted in Life

A poem in no discernible meter or rhyme scheme
by Gabriel Vincent Zaldivar

When your head touched my pillow you fell asleep;
and I looked at you from the foot of the bed, so tender, so sweet.
Everything was well between you and I,
especially now that you passed out from drinking too much Skyy.

I took off my shirt, followed by pants, and ate two Tums like I always do.
As always your sleeping face was cute, even with the glimmer of drool.
I slipped into sleep though I felt something was not right,
something was a miss, I would not enjoy the whole night.

Suddenly I awoke, much later than before.
I knew right from the gurgles and how my stomach was sore
Nothing could change my feeling, nothing uttered, nothing said.
I shouldn’t have eaten that burrito before bed!

I tried to go back to sleep, ignore it for my sweetheart.
I can’t help it though. This room smells like burrito farts!
How can you sleep my dear when my bottom is on the brink?
I mean seriously, How much did you fucking drink?

So I bolt up without warning and dash to the head
I should have remembered to take a shit before bed.
There I am, in the dark, ready to pass out sitting.
Stay awake! It’s your own fault your shitting.

If it were up to me life would be so sweet
and at fifteen past eleven I wouldn’t have to eat.
But as it were, before sleep I must be fed.
Ah, it is so romantic that you are still passed out in my bed.

Super Bowl of Football, Rather Futbol, I mean Soccer

by gabezal, posted in Sports

On Wednesday one of the most watched sporting events will take place and the great majority of Americans will not notice. The UEFA Champions League final will be played tomorrow pitting Premiership powerhouses Chelsea and Manchester United against each other. This will mark the first time that two English teams will meet in the final match. The past couple years have audiences for the match rivaling and in some cases surpassing the Super Bowl.

However, while most of the world is bathing jubilantly in beer, Americans will be caught up in heated debates over which David is a better karaoke singer. Where did we go wrong? How have we, a nation in love with sports, not embraced the most beautiful of sports?

Well, we are also a nation in love with stuff. Lots of stuff. We have 30-packs of beer for sale and jumbo size bags of chips and super size fries and extra strength Tylenol and so on. We have forgotten to take a step back and look at the journey of things. We are captivated too many times by the score rather than the method the athlete took to score.

Therein lies the conundrum for soccer fans in the U.S. How do you prove to Americans that soccer can live and thrive here in the states.? How do you illustrate the awe that is inspired by a ball kicked 50 yards pleasantly curving through the air to finish precisely on the chest of a teammate? How can you make it seem relevant to an NBA fan who watches players perform the same slam dunks year in and year out at the Slam Dunk Contest? How do you explain the exhilaration one feels from watching goals almost scored at the post? This will prove difficult, especially to a nation that has had to change their favorite game of NFL football several times through the ages precisely to incite higher scores.

Soccer is a game of hope and patience. Two teams step on the pitch for ninety minutes and methodically pick and choose their chances to strike. There are no commercial breaks and no timeouts. One would be foolish to leave for a beer run during the half, for a goal can come in an instant. And then it is gone. The goal has passed. It is on to the journey again. That is where soccer fans truly live. I hope American fans can someday appreciate the nuances that make “the beautiful game” so much fun.

Mr. Tejada I Presume?

by gabezal, posted in Sports

Well I may be a little late to the Miggie party but I wanted to chime in on the peculiarity. Not only did the bomb drop last week that Miguel Tejada is in fact 33 and not 31, but he isn’t even Miguel Tejada. Who did the Houston Astros sign? Well, none other than Miguel Tejeda.

Well I ask you as an astute observer, Where do the lies stop? It may be that Mr. Tejeda may have lied about taking steroids. I now don’t know what or who to believe. What if Miguel Tejada doesn’t even play shortstop. What then? What if it turns out he isn’t even Dominican? My god, what if it turns out that Miguel Tejada is left handed Mexican hitter Karim Garcia?
Think about it. Karim Garcia was supposed to be the best thing to come out of Mexico since ponchos and diarrhea. But he never amounted to a hill of pinto beans. Have you ever noticed that Miguel Tejada/Tejeda and Karim Garcia never played at that same time? Me neither. I never bothered to notice. Perhaps Miguel “Karim Garcia” Tejada/Tejeda wanted it that way. Think about it. When is a left handed slugger who can’t hit that ball not a left handed slugger who can’t hit the ball? Exactly.

Food for Thought

by gabezal, posted in Sports

Juan in a Million
CNNSI had a great article today. Basically it outlined the worst free agent signings of the past few years. It got me thinking about the worst signing that almost was. After having a horrible season in 2000, the Detroit Tigers offered Juan Gonzalez an 8 year 150 million dollar contract the next year. Mr. Gonzalez, being a shrewd business man, declined the ill-advised offer. Had the honorable Juan-Gone been a human with logical decision making abilities he would have accepted and the Tigers would still be paying him. Imagine how bad the Tigers would be then. They wouldn’t have Miguel “one more burrito” Cabrera or Gary “i used to hit real well huh?” Sheffield. As it is they are sitting at 4-10. Perhaps they need to look again at Juan Gonzalez. It couldn’t hurt at this stage.

Barry Sucks
Barry “the one that should probably start taking steroids” Zito was recently quoted after a loss “It’s just a fine line, I feel good about the way I’m throwing and have to stick with that.” I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that the problem is exactly the way you are pitching. Maybe pitch a little faster than 84. But good signing Sabean.

NOOOOOO!!!!
While we are at it. Jered Weaver’s brother has a job now. Too bad for the Brewers that his job consists of pitching. Does anyone check resumes anymore? I would definitely double check Jeff Weaver’s references. At least he only has a minor league contract. However, I would be more than happy to give up home runs for half of his $12000 a month salary.

Woo Hoo
In exciting Dodger news, Nomar has been activated. Awesome, if you need me I’ll be over here rolling my eyes. Is it me or should Nomar and J.D. Drew do commercials for Blue Cross. Either way I have a strong feeling there is a nice hamstring injury due to the former batting champ soon.