Missed me? Then aim higher.

I think this is the longest time that I've gone without posting on Xanga.  I wonder if anyone reads this anymore? Either way, I will once again, join the ranks of non-Tila Tequila friends of Xanga.

Anyway, my Myspace?...my Space?...whatever...has gotten terribly creepy therefore, I will post nothing more than fuzzy, indiscrete pictures on it from now on of my exuberant partying habits and rock hard abs, taken from weird camera angles, as I contort myself into positions that would make a pretzel jealous.

So at this point, I've been in San Antonio for three years...three...very...long...years.  I hate this place~

For the longest time, I hated Chicago, simply because I lived there.  Now, there's a possibility that I may even miss it to some extent.  It wasn't that bad.  Richard Daley knows what he's doing.  For instance, Chicagoans get usable parks, a real beach (none of that stab-yourself-with-a-hypodermic-needle-and-get-AIDS crap like the Gulf), tons of public art installations from Picasso, and Pot Belly's sandwiches.  Jimmy John's ok, too.  And right next to it in Evanston, there's Buffalo Joe's.  And Chicago has bike trails.  Sure, I haven't ridden one since I was fifteen, but I enjoy the option of being able to ride my bike if needed. 

A decent one bedroom apartment in San Francisco or Manhattan costs close to a million dollars.  A high-rise in Chicago can cost less than $400,000, and an added bonus of living without the constant fear of getting jihaded upon.  Chicago's cab drivers speak real English, Chicago's women can be described as "sturdy" and "practical"...like Amish furniture or an American four-door sedan.  Chicago doesn't play mind games with you, such as "will this bum stab me" or..."is that guy staring at me with his lazy eye(s)?"

And then, there's San Antonio.  I don't know the mayor's name.  Parks here look like an apocalyptic aftermath.  Barefeet beachwalking will possibly wipe out your white blood cells.  Public art installations are created to resemble something sensual like "gang signs" and "gang rapes."  San Antonio has Bill Miller's Barbecues and Barnacle Bill's Seafood..  For those that are fortunate enough to have never tasted anything from either of Bill's establishments, let me clarify...

That I would rather eat dog food, and maybe even the dog, rather than eat Bill Miller's or Barnacle Bill's.

San Antonio has bike trails, but chances are, you will be run over by a drunk Mexican or drunk high school football coach in a truck.  Cab drivers...apparently "airport" in Spanish means "middle of nowhere."  San Antonio's women can be described as "not wearing her right size" or "pregnant teenager."

Oh, how I miss Chicago...