The very secret diaries of

So. I liek have a friend that liek speaks english, and that's soooo cool liek you wouldn't believe. English is totally the new black.

She also ask me for little stories about myself. So if you're cool enought to get english here they are for you. If you aren't you're lame and I don't want you around my blog.

fecha 5 de abril de 2009 14:36
asunto Gaywalking

So fun story:

In Mexico City, near where I live, there's this gay hookup place called 'Green Road' or Camino Verde. It's in the middle of the National University, in a trail of volcanic rocks and in the middle of a national park. It's where gay people hook up when they have no money, or just have too much free time, the scenary -all rocks and endemic plants- is littered with used condoms and you can find people fucking nearby. To get in you have to hike for about 15 minutes in very dangerous places.

We went because our gay friends were talking about it, because they love the kichstness of it, so they brought along their breeder friends. We found out money on the floor. And then we went for hamburger and movies. That's my life in Mexico city.

Have a nice week.

fecha 13 de abril de 2009 9:20
asunto Re: Chat with PetraK
Buttercup? As in the princess bride?

I don't quite get what you mean by easter. Mexico being a catholic country, we get 'holy week', that is similar to the american spring break. If I was a good catholic I would have spend that week doing sacrifices, and going to church. Instead I went to the beach (Mazatlan, remember?) , like almost everyone. There I didn't have a hotel so I spend all the day at the beach, and I sleep 1 hour in a friend's car so I could return to my hometown at 6 am.

Saturday, We chated, I went with my ex, we made out, and the I threw him out of my house because I remembered that I still don't want anything to do with him,.

Did you manage to beat some common sense to Viri this eastern? Did you make her remember that while Homosexuality is not a sin in the eyers of god, naming your children something stupid is?

Kisses,


2009/4/13

Chocolate Bunnies are Tool of oppresions that want to crush our distint catholic traditions. They're the front soldiers of Imperialism! We dont do chocolate, we do blood and eternal damnation (Actually True, catholic countries like to do representations of the cruxifiction. Think passion of the christ but it's not fake blood). Also I didn't made out with my ex per se, I told you I don't believe in casual kissing. Ha, actually in my mind I don't kiss him because I dont want anything with him. He kissed my neck thought when I told him to stop. What I missed the most thought was the whole 'being a couple'. Then again i want nothing with him.

I'm glad your lesbianism remains confirmed via boring boyfriend. Not so glad about viri's child. A sin I tell you. At least her second name is kind of normal

fecha 18 de abril de 2009 13:47
asunto A day in the life of

I don't remember whether you asked me to keep writing you emails. Anyway I was doing a big of spring cleaning and I found a note I wrote to myself. I do that all the time, just write little pieces of thought instead of paying attention on class. I blame Mexico's lack of culture about drugging kids out of their quirks

Anyway here it is:

There are certain words I love in spanish, the way all the towns en in either 'mulco' or 'titlan'. They make me giggle, like spanish is the most n onsensical thing in the world. Spanish is a private joke.

Ps. Giggle also makes me giggle. Such a quirky little word.

fecha 4 de mayo de 2009 20:37
asunto Photos and story

Every oncee in a while I decide that I want to change my life. Why? That's the only thing one does when in their twenties and has it relativaly easy I guess. So my answer to this vague desire has always been changing my hair. When I was little I was a pain in the ass, in many ways, but the one that stuck the most was the fact that I disliked having my hair combed (at least that's what my mom thought, actually I liked it too much, so I would undo my hair so my mom would do it again). My mom punished me by having a boys cut.

So I spend most of my childhood looking like a boy. I was actually identical to one of my male cousins.

And recently I got obssessed with my little afro. I try to reclain things I used to hate from childhood like my full name, the color pink and now my little afro. I think it looks cool. Then again, there are somethings you can only pull off when you're a toddler.

So a friend of mine told me about this guy who is a punk hairstyler that you can pay with sick packs of beer. I fell in love a little with him, when I was done. And I didn't know whether to like it or not. I guess I just haven't gotten used to it yet.

That's the backstory, back to the photos: The same friend who got her haircut with me was kind of blue due to a bad breakup. She wanted to get drunk, but didn't want to be an alcoholic so she invited me over. We started doing tequila shots, and all of sudden a bunch of people we actually know but aren't our friends friends arrived with whiskey. Whiskey is all the rage in Culiacan nowadays for parties. So I started drinking whiskey and tequila in the street because that's the only thing you do in little towns. All of sudden the father of my friend arrives and he sees this bunch of not quite kids drinking in his porch, so he does the sensible thing: he gives us facemask so we don't get influenza. Now, remember Culiacan is a drug town, and my friend lives two houses from 'Mayo' Zambada (He's one of the most wanted drug dealers in the world, you can search from him in the DEA'S Top wanted list). He thought we were too loud and called the army. The army arrived and complained about the music 'you should have gone to the beach if you wanted to party. That's no man's land'. And we were like 'but we're bored'. Except actually no, we were like 'YOU CAN'T DO A THING TO ME YOU FUCKERS! I OWN THIS BUILDING! YOU CAN SUCK MY DICK" that was my heartbroken friend, who btw is a girl. We were also like 'WTF? WHY AREN'T YOU WEARING MASKS? YOU LIKE CAN GET US INFECTED' and then they left.

The moral of this story is: never drink with my friends.