The Wee Democracy

it's pronounced ricky, people

so yesterday i planned on writing a blog about riqui. i mention him enough, i felt it appropriate to write about how i met my oldest friend. the rumor goes that our grandmothers introduced us when we were both around three (he's only three months older than me). if that's true, we've known each other twenty years, but if not, only ten. either way, he's far and away my oldest and closest friend.

yes, we disagree about hank hill's status in the annuls of americana, and yes, our musical tastes run about as contrary as they possibly can without resulting in fisticuffs. actually what we first bonded over, what first made us friends was the mutual dislike for a certain teacher from our long lost middle school days.

that was just the starting point, though. our relationship runs far deeper than hating that psycho hose beast. we bonded over wrestling. we bonded over living in the cliff and being a hispanic in the WASPiest place on earth. we bonded over cici's and jack in the box.

and when he ballot-stuffed his way into the student council presidency, i used the SC office as my own personal lounge. i was like robert mcnamara. and when he graduated, and i still had a year to go (no i'm not stupid, his b-day is in august, mine's in november, so i was always a year behind), i was promptly removed from the office by the new regime...assholes. for anonymity's sake, we'll call them BA and Lensing.

riqui's one of the most level-headed, if not THE most, people i know. he's the rock my waves of nutbarness crash against and break. he's a constantly optimistic ball of good will and sometimes it sickens me. i can always count on him for a trip to cici's when we're both in town. or a trip down memory lane that i haven't visited lately. or knowing every line from the vast majority of the episodes of the simpsons. or singing random lines from mediocre rock music. or laughing at my filthy jokes even though they're not that funny. or commiserating about teachers we bet were hot back in the day, and complaining about the lack of time machines in today's world.

and you can thank him, because it was riqui that got me into this thing called blog.



feeling: tired, smelly
thinking of: bush's lame stuttering fool self preempting both '24' AND 'line of fire', irking me greatly.
song of the day: to paint you a poem - travis shaw
two roads diverged in a yellow wood. one wasn't evil but the other wasn't good.