The Girls Are Back In Town!

I finally finished!!! Sure it took me 15 months, but I finally finished the part two to my all cartoon post: Girls' Day Out. To be totally honest, I could have finished this about 15 months ago.

I blame procrastination.

But forget all that, it's finished! And it's got everything! We're talking forty- that's right, forty - panels full of sex, violence, strippers Diane's booty, Lacy's rack and, as suggested, a guy with a bum chin. And you're all finally going to get to see it, in all its glory...

Tomorrow.

I know! I know! Why the suspense, right? But you'll have to wait. I'm reposting part one today for those who missed out. Fair is fair after all.

In an effort to end the hostilities between them, Lacy took Diane out for a day on the town. Their first stop was to help Diane pick out a new wardrobe:

Two Years Ago...

Many remember this date for the tragic 9/11 attacks which took place eleven years ago. Even though I'm not American, it's a day I'll never forget either. I've always felt the world became a bit of a darker place since that day. For me, though, today also means something else. Though it pales in comparison to those events, I guess it's something that means more to me than anyone else. And it all started two years ago.

Two years ago my Facebook account sat virtually untouched in the year or so since I created it and the only thing I used the internet for was my Yahoo mail and World of Warcraft. Two years ago I was going through the biggest turmoil of my life with no clue where to go and what to do next. Two years ago I kept most people at arm's length and never opened up to anyone.

That was two years ago.

Today I have two Facebook accounts, Twitter, Google Plus, LinkedIn, more email accounts than one person really needs and a host of social networking accounts. I honestly don't know where I find the time sometimes.

And I have this blog. A blog I started two years ago today with my first post where I promised to improve in some areas as I went along (so much for that). This day, two years ago was the first time I hit "publish", bringing this world to life for me.

Up to two years ago I felt like an outsider. I never fit in. I didn't know who I was and it still amazes me how I adapted so easily to this world of blogging, like a fish to water as they say. I've found like-minded people, made friends, was asked to be a writer on Sprocket Ink (I've got two posts there for the week so far, by the way: click here and here).

Two years ago I started a blog. A small thing to a lot of people, but an important part in me finding out who I really am finding friends and finding my "place".

I guess all that is the reason why, after two years, I'm still here.

If You Can't Say Something Nice...

I've been laying low the past few days. Mostly because I've been a bit down of late. Long story short, I'm still unemployed, it still sucks and trying to stay positive can be tiring.

But this isn't going to be a whiny "Boo-Hoo! My life stinks!" posts. That's not how I roll. I don't have anything nice to say about the unemployment situation so I won't say anything about it. I appreciate the fact that this blog is my forum for whatever I want it to be and I could sulk if I wanted, but I do enough of that out in the real world.

You're welcome.

Anyway, in the week or so since I last posted other things have been going on. As I may have mentioned before, the country I live in is Trinidad and Tobago. We had our Independence Day celebrations recently and, this year, T&T turned 50. Mrs C and I celebrated the same way we always do: by barricading ourselves inside and having a DVD marathon.

Don't get me wrong! It isn't that we're not patriotic or anything. Some years ago, before we were married, we took some younger relatives to see the fireworks display in the capital and had THE worst time trying to get out of the city after it was over. We had to walk all the way from Queen's Park Savannah to downtown Port-of-Spain - with small children in tow - because we couldn't get a taxi.

Here's a map so you can have a better idea.

Trust me. Even for a small island, it's far.

Even after that, it took forever for me to get home after I dropped the yet to be Mrs C off. From then, we decided to skip the main attraction until we had our own car.

Other than that, I started school this week. No, I haven't changed majors again. My recent romp with The Paper hasn't broken my resolve. I still want to be a journalist, but I do think I need to back off a bit and finish school first. Though it was a bit of a concern that the lecturer who was helping me choose my courses for this semester (a former journalist himself, mind you) seemed to be trying to dissuade me from this pursuit.

Things in the school are improving! We've only had one major hiccup so far. Seems one of the classes I signed up for isn't at the campus I go to but at one of the east campuses. We're talking faaaaar to the east. Think the map I showed you earlier times-I dunno-1,000!!! Even travelling, that's way too far for me, especially when it comes to leaving there to get home at 8pm. Now I'm being told that all the other classes are full so I'll most likely end up taking two instead of three this semester, which keeps me a student there longer.

Grrr...

Oh! I added a new set of stalker buttons to the sidebar over on the right. Make it easier to get more of me.

I mean these.

Mouse over them. I made them say funny things. You can even click them too (Hint!-Hint!).

That's basically been my week, in a nutshell.

Shh-Shh-Shh! I know... I Missed You Too.

After almost two weeks without internet I'm glad to report that things are back to normal... Or as normal as things get around here anyway.

You haven't missed out on much. Things have been pretty quite around here in that time. Fear not, though, for my return to the virtual world means my return to Sprocket Ink, the best source for a snarky take on today's news this side of the interwebz... or any side, if you ask me.

Today, I deal with a story about a cell phone thief who gets way more justice than he deserves. As some of you may remember, Mrs. C has had her own run-ins with these petty thieves and, believe me, she wasn't particularly broken up about what happened to this guy.

Would you like to know more? Sure you do! In that case, all you do is just CLICK HERE (Sorry, Mr Sprocket no here anymore!)

The Five Stages of... Hope?

The first time I was ever fired from a job was when I lost my bank job three years ago. I lost a lot of things with the loss of that job. My nice, cushy income was gone. The credit cards, my self esteem, my reputation and sense of self worth, stability and security were a thing of the past. And, for a while, I lost hope too.

When the fallout from my mistakes first happened, I didn't want to believe things were as bad as they looked. I hoped for things to work out so I could keep my job. I was wrong. They didn't. Then when things went from bad to worse I hoped for things to turn around - that I could bounce back quickly and get something else that would provide the same level of income so we could keep up with our loans, credit cards, bills and the steep rent we were paying on our new apartment. But none of that happened either.


Hit after hit, life seemed content in grinding me into the ground, and with each blow, that hope that something would eventually go my way slowly faded away. Until I couldn't find any more hope in me.

It even got to the point where I began wishing. I wished for silly, impossible things. I wished I could wake up to find the entire thing was just a dream, or I could somehow go back and change what had happened. I guess we all do that when we're in a shitty situation. But I knew the reality of my situation couldn't simply be wished away.

Then came the anger. I decided that hope was just a waste of time and if I was going to get out of my mess, I was going to have to take matters into my own hands. Hope is for fools. It's something for people to cling to so they can sit idle and see if their problems work themselves out. If you want your situation to change, you have to get up and change it. At least, that's what I used to tell myself.

But even that was stupid.


I used to believe that things happened for a reason and I even thought if I learned from my situation and vowed not to make the same mistakes again, then things would turn around. Just like in those Saturday cartoons I saw growing up. I thought, "Okay, life, you got me. I've learned my lesson. I'll never do anything so stupid ever again. You can make everything alright now..."

"Please?"

But, in real life, there's no old mystic, or whatever, waiting to see if you learned and grew from your tragedy to then magically send you back to where you began. The cartoons lied! No one's waiting to hit the reset button for you. That's real life.


Some pretty dark days followed. I never knew what depression, real depression, was up until then. I was still trying to put on a brave face for Mrs. C, and I did my best not let my despair show, but on most days, after she left for work, I would spend the entire day curled up in bed, hating myself, my life, everything.

But, eventually, things got better. I wish I could say there was grand epiphany that helped me to realize this. In the end I guess I just accepted it.

But, out of all that, the strangest thing happened. Corny as it sounds, I found myself. Before then, I never really knew what I could truly say who I was or what defined me. I had long given up on any idea of having "talent" or "creativity" in anything and accepted a life of cubicles and staff meetings. But through this experience I discovered I was more than that. I have to admit, stumbling onto the world of blogging helped a lot.

Things haven't completely turned around for us. We're still buried under a mountain of debt and it doesn't help that I still seem to have trouble holding down a job. But we've both grown from this whole experience. Now I can safely say that I have hope that there will be a better day.


The truth is we need a little hope. We can't control every situation and there are just some things we have to hope turn out for the best. We have to hope that things get better and there's some better tomorrow out there somewhere. Even if it isn't tomorrow.

********

This was part of the hope relay.

It was passed on to me by one of my adopted blog-sister, Marie of My Cyber House Rules (the adoption's still unofficial until all the paperwork is sorted out).

Now, as is the rule with relays, I pass the baton to a few others:

dbs of think.stew, Kathy of Bliss Habits, Nubian and Nari of narislife

Meanwhile At AVCI...

Internet's down again...

The Last Assignment.

My photographer grunted in frustration as he forced the lever into second gear, "This old car fallin' apart! Ah tell them it can't make these kinda drives!"

To me, he always seemed apologetic about the condition of his old Nissan. At least, that's how he came across to me. The car was old - I'll give him that - but I didn't see the need for him to offer any explanations. This was the same car that got us to and from assignments in the Diego Martin hills and around the hairpin turns of the North Coast Road leading to Maracas. Now, we were weaving our way through the hills of Belmont on our way to a murder scene.

"Hmph..." was all I replied to his complaint. This was... IS my usual response to any statement I didn't feel warranted me actually thinking of something to say. Instead I focused my attention on the view outside my window. I had never been this far inside Belmont before and I wanted to take it in.

In most places, on either side of the road, the land sloped gently upward. There were few areas that were more built-up than others, but other than that, it was your typical hillside community with houses nestled against the sloping landscape, surrounded by trees and tall grass. It was still the dry season then and the sun was making it's presence felt, but since the season wasn't as harsh this year, there was still a lot of green everywhere. Many of the properties were unfenced, which I assume was mostly because they were squatter homes that had been regularized by some government or the other. Others either saw no need or didn't have the funds to put up fences.

Eventually, we managed to find our assignment, despite the crude directions the officer at the Belmont police station gave me. Of course, the row of police vehicles and the yellow tape cordoning the street where the shooting took place helped.

The entire street was taped off. About halfway in - I estimate about 20 feet - forensics officers were standing over something in the tall grass on the side of the road. That was our body. It was hard to make out, even through the zoomed-in view of my photographer's camera.

There were other reporters already on the scene and I asked one of them, Cee, a reporter I knew from previous assignments, what they found out. She nodded and shrugged and she pulled another cigarette from her bag. I wasn't actually expecting her to share any juicy info she might have picked up. I was new to the reporting gig but I wasn't an idiot. Fortunately, I knew one of the officers on the scene, so I waited until his superiors had moved off a bit and approached him.

"I already told Cee everything we know," he said.

"Yeah, okay, but just give me the short version. In case she "forgets" to tell me something. I prefer to get my info first hand anyway."

He looked at me for a few seconds and I, in turn, raised my eyebrows expectantly and put my pen to my notebook. He sighed...

The victim's identity wasn't verified but it look as if it was a gang-style execution. That, he assured me, was all they knew at that time. After I thanked him, I went over to my photographer to see what luck he was having in getting a good photo. He told me that unless they were done and ready to move the body he wasn't going to get a decent shot from our distance. So all we could do was wait.

Not good news. The day was hot and we had to rely on the what little shade an overhanging tree could provide us.

It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

It wasn't long before Cee and most of the others decided they'd had enough and it was time to leave. It didn't look like they planned on moving the body anytime soon so we left as well.

Not long after we pulled off, my photographer began groaning in frustration again as he struggled with his old Nissan's manual transmission and we talked about the problems he was having with the finance company to get a loan for his new car. Maybe it was because I was so new to journalism, but I found that even these morbid and seemingly wasted trips were still a little exhilarating.

Too bad they were already planning on firing me the next day...

Deflated.

The only time I get to leave the house these days are for my morning sessions at the gym. Early mornings there aren't very crowded. I usually see the same five guys there most mornings. There are a few women regulars too, but they spend most of their time on the aerobics floor.

We all basically do our own thing, unless someone needs help and sometimes we talk about the news, or the weather or some other meaningless crap... Just your basic guy stuff I guess. Everyone gets along and normally we all have a pretty good workout.

When it comes to the free weights, there are some guys there who lift more than I do, but it's not by much. It gives me a goal to chase. I can tell myself that, with a little more work I can work up to that level. Then there are one or two who aren't lifting as much weight as I am. So I can safely say I'm somewhere in the middle. But, all-in-all though, everyone's pretty average - no superheroes - and, by the end of our individual workouts, you could say we all leave pretty confident in our progress:

Great workout! Catch ya later, Eddie.
source

Thus, peace and harmony reigned in the land and all was good... Well... it was good... Before the day he walked in...

source

No one knows his name, or where he came from. I think we're all too afraid to talk to him. And with good reason, seeing as he's about three times my size - height and width. Yeah... he's big. His first day there he walked up to the rack of free weights...

From this rack he selected the three heaviest pairs. Those are the 95, 85 and 75 pound dumbbells. Nobody ever used those before! I always thought they were for display. I tried to lift one of the 95lb ones once, but it never budged, so, I just assumed they were welded down or something (logical conclusion, right?). I normally go with something lighter, anyway.

See that little 20 pounder over there in the middle? That one's mine. Isn't she cute?!

Anyway, the big guy takes the dumbbells over to a free bench and lines them up on the floor like he's spreading out a meal. Then he sits down and emasculates us curls each set of weights, rests like 5 seconds and does it all over again... THREE TIMES... by himself (not that any one of us could have helped him if he did need it). 

The rest of us continued our own workout while trying not to stare (we failed miserably, by the way). Eventually, he finished his set and walked over to the machines. As he did so, he looked over at us, smiled and said, "S'up, fellas?"

I don't know I he was genuinely being friendly or just a smug asshole, but what I do know is by the end of that morning, we weren't quite as confident in our progress as we normally were.

source: YouTube

The Obligatory "Writer's Block" Post.

I know! I know! I've been gone almost two weeks without a word. I think that's actually a new record for me. I blame it on that damn blinking cursor that greets me when I open up my 'Compose' screen. Pretentious little sonofabitch, huh? I just got tired of staring at that thing. I mean it just sits there, mocking me... blinking. Daring me and jeering me. It says, "Go ahead! Write something. Bet you can't. Bet you just sit there and do nothing."

I hate that cursor.

As you're well aware, it's an unofficial rule when you have a blog is that you should write on said blog from time to time. It's kind of expected, to be honest. Darn rules! I wish I could say it's because I've been sooo damn busy that I've barely had time to breath, let along write, but the truth of the matter is I've hardly been doing much of anything.

Besides staring at a blinking cursor, that is.

Actually, that's kind of the problem. It's hard to relay my new adventures when I haven't been having any. Sitting at home all day doesn't exactly provide much in the way of blog fodder.

I know what you're going to say, "But, Vinny, what about Sprocket Ink? You've still been writing over at Sprocket Ink."

Yes, I have. So, technically, I guess I don't really have writer's block... Wait! You guys have been checking out my posts over at Sprocket, have you?

Well?

I... I don't believe this. How..? Why..? Don't make me use my signature "Scowl of Disapproval".

GRRR!

There's still chance to redeem yourselves. I put in an extra post today (Sorry. Site's gone now). It's up right now and don't forget tomorrow's post too. Don't make me give you the other half of that scowl.

Anyway, I figure if I could waste your time with the last few paragraphs just writing about my inability to write then I'm full of it I can snap out of it. Expect me back... soon.

Vinny Unplugged.

For those of you who have been wondering why things have been so quite around here the past few days, I've was forcibly removed from the Matrix again. That's right! Our internet was down... AGAIN! This time, it was completely gone for FIVE WHOLE DAYS!!! Don't ask me how I survived. I don't know either. At first, I did take it the same way I always do...

Eventually, though, I snapped out of it. I decided to busy myself with other things. I'm a trooper like that.

Hey! Did you guys know there are other uses for a computer besides surfing the web? I know it sounds crazy, but stay with me on this. Among other things, I actually played games and music on it. It's like a giant cellphone!

I even went outside a few times. And not because I had to. It was just for the heck of it. I know! Crazy, right? I like to take chances every now and then. By the way, has anyone else noticed there's this giant ball of fire in the sky?

Between you and me, I don't think it comes in peace.

But my internet returned and I'm back! And I'm making up for lost time with a brand spankin' new post over at Sprocket Ink. Today, we're talking about one of my favorite topics: Coffee!

Awesome mug courtesy of Nubian. Being put to good use, as you can see.

The results on a new study on how the magic bean can help protect us from the fiery overlord looming overhead have been released and I couldn't wait to share the good news. So, as always, just click here and enjoy. In fact, go make a cup of coffee to sip while you read. You'll thank me later.