This is a site dedicated to the thoughts, comments, views and opinions of a transplanted Jamaican who - through the love, support and toleration of his family - makes his opinions known. Filters on written content may - or may not - be applied, depending on the side of the bed one gets up from, the impact of dreams the nights before, and so forth. CAUTION: A bizarre mix of Jamaican, British, American and LGBT humor is found throughout this blog.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Sunday, June 24, 2012
CHICAGO GAY PRIDE 2012
Lead banner. |
Jackie and Callie. |
Back banner. |
Dykes on bikes. |
"Four more years!" |
The Obama Pride contingent. |
Cutie-patootie Officer McInerney who said it was his first Pride Parade. His facial expressions on some of the floats were hysterical! |
Damn! Those heels! |
Roscoe's float. |
Sidetrack's flaot. |
(l-r) Jackie,Callie and myself. |
Sunday, June 10, 2012
WOW....A REAL LIFE PROFESSIONAL BOXER!
Yesterday, I went to the barber to get a much needed trim. Being a bit sleep deprived from doing laundry in the wee hours of that morning, I stumbled in to the barber shop and asked for my usual guy. After being told there were two persons ahead of me, I sat down in the couch and began to read the library book I carried for just that occasion.
Through a reader's haze I heard another customer in the store get up and sit in one of the barber's chair and having a loud conversation with the person sitting in the chair beside him. I couldn't help but overhear snippets of the banter between the two. The younger guy described himself as a personal trainer, and how much he made per hour doing that, etc. This went on for quite a few minutes I zoned in and out of the conversation.
Soon it was my turn. I sat in the chair vacated by one of the conversationalist, told my guy what I wanted in a trim, and then began to really pay attention to my surroundings. After all, personal trainer sometimes meant hunky man-meat.
Low and behold, there he was. Young guy, deep voice, olive skin, hairy muscular legs, chatting with the staff about an upcoming fight he was participating in. "A boxer?" I thought to myself, "Wonder if he had a broken nose....?!" Trying not to stare, I glanced at the bruise under his left eye, and the healing cut above his left brow. He had my attention- I had never seen a professional boxer up close before. And up close the view was yummy. Luckily I had the barber's bib on to help catch the drool oozing from the corner of my mouth.
Unfortunately, his trim was over long before mine, and as he got up he reminded the guys in the shop to watch his fight with Chris Arreola in two weeks. As he stood, I saw him in full profile: lean, fighter's stance, broad shoulders, quick on his feet.
I was hooked.
Once my trim was over I left the store and on reaching home Googled Chris Arreola to see if I could put a name to the face I just saw. And minutes later I found him: Mike Mollo, Oak Lawn native, born in 1980. He had a good reputation and was respected by boxing critics for his skills. The fight he referred to was set for June 23rd at the Staples Center in Los Angles.
I'm still trying to figure out what he was doing in my neighborhood getting a trim. Did he live around here? Did he know one of the guys in the shop? What fate caused our paths to cross that Saturday?
All irrelevant. Right now,being a good Chicagoan I am wishing my hunky boxer good luck in his fight. You go boy and REPRESENT!!!!
Through a reader's haze I heard another customer in the store get up and sit in one of the barber's chair and having a loud conversation with the person sitting in the chair beside him. I couldn't help but overhear snippets of the banter between the two. The younger guy described himself as a personal trainer, and how much he made per hour doing that, etc. This went on for quite a few minutes I zoned in and out of the conversation.
Soon it was my turn. I sat in the chair vacated by one of the conversationalist, told my guy what I wanted in a trim, and then began to really pay attention to my surroundings. After all, personal trainer sometimes meant hunky man-meat.
Low and behold, there he was. Young guy, deep voice, olive skin, hairy muscular legs, chatting with the staff about an upcoming fight he was participating in. "A boxer?" I thought to myself, "Wonder if he had a broken nose....?!" Trying not to stare, I glanced at the bruise under his left eye, and the healing cut above his left brow. He had my attention- I had never seen a professional boxer up close before. And up close the view was yummy. Luckily I had the barber's bib on to help catch the drool oozing from the corner of my mouth.
Unfortunately, his trim was over long before mine, and as he got up he reminded the guys in the shop to watch his fight with Chris Arreola in two weeks. As he stood, I saw him in full profile: lean, fighter's stance, broad shoulders, quick on his feet.
I was hooked.
Once my trim was over I left the store and on reaching home Googled Chris Arreola to see if I could put a name to the face I just saw. And minutes later I found him: Mike Mollo, Oak Lawn native, born in 1980. He had a good reputation and was respected by boxing critics for his skills. The fight he referred to was set for June 23rd at the Staples Center in Los Angles.
I'm still trying to figure out what he was doing in my neighborhood getting a trim. Did he live around here? Did he know one of the guys in the shop? What fate caused our paths to cross that Saturday?
All irrelevant. Right now,being a good Chicagoan I am wishing my hunky boxer good luck in his fight. You go boy and REPRESENT!!!!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
WAKE UP AMERICA!
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Monday, February 20, 2012
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