Twin City Trouble

Dear Cousin Gobo,

The Cherry was on the Spoon....the best way to describe my recent adventure to the Twin Cities of Minneasota. I was not in Minneapolis to go sight seeing, gaze at art, nor map this lake filled region. Instead I had a greater purpose. I was to take part in a celebration....a speical holy union.....

a Marriage

The Bag, my long time good friend, finally decided it was time to start his new life with his beautiful bride. I was asked months ago if I would be a Groomsman for this wonderful occasion. Naturally, I said yes. Weddings are great! They are filled with fun and excitement. People are always happy to celebrate weddings. What's there not to be happy about? Plenty of food and drinks to consumer. Plenty of partying and dancing to partake.

Of course, there are also the Bridesmaids

Meet Chrisy and Lee, two very beautiful Bridesmaids, and very single....at least for the weekend that is. Being a Groomsman of Wedding gives you an unique opportunity to not only meet the Bridesmaids but also build a comfortable rapport with eachother. Since both Groomsmen and Bridesmaids must attend all the activities that prepare a wedding, there is plenty of time to make a connection, and to be seen more than just the man standing there across from them. That is exactally the intention of myself and my "Wing" Guido, the Bestman.

The best time and place to make this all this happen is at the reception. During all the wedding preparation is the time to ask...where are you from.....what's your job.....what do you like, dislike....are you single? The reception is when you close the deal. You must be confident, fearless, energetic, entertaining, humorous.....you must hold nothing back. Both Guido and I knew this, so we acted as eachothers' "wing". We backed up eachother, instead of showing up. We danced, we laughed, we had tons of fun with these girls. Surprisingly, it all worked.

After the reception, we walked the girls back to their hotel room, and they invited us inside.

We helped the girls take down their hair. Lee had 47 bobbie pins in her's. The girls changed their clothes, the guys removed their suit jackets and vests. There was massaging, laughing, horseplay....we were there...we were SO CLOSE, but after a few hours of this....the feeling began to fade. Everyone was starting to get tired and uninterested. What went wrong? Was it the time? The morning hours? Maybe the alcohol.....maybe not enough alcohol. Regardless, Guido and I said our goodnights, and returned to our hotel room. The both of us later agreed that there was a lack of separation. We spend plenty of time with these girls. Each one grew interested in one of us guys. But we couldn't get the two separated. This was key at that moment and we both knew it.

The next morning, Guido and I slept through most of the post-wedding brunch. We showed up close to the end of it. The girls were departing that day, we were leaving the next. Trying not to look so hungover, we smiled and talked to the others. Many questions were asked about our wild night. Apparently, everyone knew of our escapes. The girls were talking about us.....that was a good sign. The two girls came over to say their goodbyes. They told us that they had alot of fun, and we each recieved a hug and kiss on the cheek from both of them. A small victory, but victory none the less. Given one more night the posiblities could have been endless.

T.C.B., Baby!


I Hate Radio!!

Dear Cousin Gobo,

I can't stand listening to local radio stations!

I thought moving to a larger market that the radio stations would improve.....I was wrong.

It is the same junk all over. The same lame songs are on a constant three hour loop. The same lame DJ's trying to be funny. Same overloaded crappy commercials.

So that is why I went the way of the iPod. Since I drive alot for my job. I needed to listen to something better. I went out and bought all the gadgets and gismos that come with owing a mp3 player, only to be disappointed again.

I picked up one of those FM transmitters. Finally I can eliminate those damn radio stations! Wrong!

Living in a larger city means more stations. Meaning less dead air space for the FM transmitter. So as I drive around town my little transmitter gets blasted out the countless number of small time latino radio stations. That's right LATINO stations. The Latino market here is huge, and everyone wants to make a few bucks from it, so they flood every market targeting Latino consumers.

At first I thought it to be comical. I liked listen to the spanish speaking stations, it helped me practice my own spanish. But soon, it stopped being funny. Why in the HELL did I buy this thing, if it's not going to work?

Few have claimed that maybe I didn't buy the right one, or that I wasn't on the right frequency. Let me tell you over the past few months....I TRIED THEM ALL!! Same result, lost of signal to another station spilling over on the dial.

I HATE RADIO!!!! Stop trying to control my mind! I don't want to your continuous looped play of crappy songs. I don't want to hear your retro noon-time playlist of song that sucked worst in their own time period. Always trying to tell me what music is better than the rest, because some record company is paying you to do so. And I'm tried of all you morons out there, calling in to request these shitty songs. STOP IT!


Strange Sighting

Dear Cousin Gobo,

I've been living in this desert oasis for a year, and I've seen some amazing things. I also seen some very strange things...or should I say people. Take this guy for example...Meet Mr. TVG

This man has many names but the one that describes him the most is T.V.G. or as I was told Typical Vegas Guy. There is a sighting of him almost everyday. He can be seen walking laps in the parking lots near my news station. That's right plural....parking lots. He walks around in the sun for hours, doing laps in the either the Catholic Church parking lot or the the Blair House parking lot. We are unsure where he comes from. Many think that he lives at the Blair House, a shitty low price apartment complex next door to the station, because we never see him in a car. I am not completely sure of that.

Also I can't figure out his pattern. He's not out seven days a week, but it has to be close to 5 or 6 days. I sometimes see him is on a weekend, but not every weekend. He also isn't seen at the same time of day. You may see him first thing in the morning, or maybe around lunch. It's rare but you can even have a sighting of him close to sunset. Here is the stumper...You can never tell which parking lot were he will be walking. I tried for months to track his process by making mental notes, like Monday, noon, church parking lot. But the next few Mondays he wouldn't be there. I think he operates on a version of the Mayan calender.

You may ask what makes this man a T.V.G.? Well that is another puzzle. I've been told if you live here long enough you will become just like this man. Just look at him. He is muscular, but it is that flappy creepy old man muscle tone. He has a great tan, but also probably has extreme case of skin cancer. And his hair is bright white. If living here causes this then how long does one have to live in the desert sun? 20 years? 50 years? 100?? This is not a human! He is like a comic book villian from outerspace.

If it is true that this is what becomes of all Vegas people who live here too long, then I have some theories. I believe the sun gives him his power. Like Superman. Only he needs to walk around in the sun all day because he is dying. Yes dying, but the sun slows the process, because he is a right old age of 342 years. He wears only short shorts because the more surface area of skin exposed, the more UV rays absorbed. Plus lying in the sun isn't enough. You have to move, hence the walking laps. The energy from the sun must also need to be circulated throughout the body by the blood stream.

This is alot to look forward to. I must learn his ways. If I want to survive for 300 years

T.C.B., Baby