Shout OUT!

HAPPY BDAY to Bella Baggins (7/6) and the BIGS (7/13)

Tuesday, October 28, 2008


I am the type of person who remembers his dreams and nightmares with vivid detail. I don't always dream, but when I do, I can recount most of the details which is fine if they are mini porn like. Now me they are mini horror movies, and I like horror movies. Somewhere in the middle of the flick in my head, I realize I am sleeping and turn the dream around.

In the spirit of Halloween, I will recount the one nightmare I can truly remember that did a total mind fuck on me. So here we go:

Are you really you? (a nightmare brought you by izcorp!)

Black.. all I see is black. Then a splash of light like a harsh slap, but I am bound. Struggling...what the fuck is going? My eyes are adjusting, and i can see why I am not going anywhere. I am lying in one of those old school gurneys, in the middle of a white room. Someone has just taken off the blindfold and I can see my legs and hands are bound. I am the lying down version of Hannibal Lector. To my right I see the guy who took off my blindfold, his back is turned to me. I try to shout, but the gag on my mouth is making sure the only sounds I make are inaudible shouts and grunts.

He comes over, laughing. What the fuck is he laughing at?

"Oh, u fucking awake huh? Done talking in ur sleep u fucking retard!"

Retard...what the hell is going on? I struggle, and he finally removes the gag.

"Who the fuck u calling a retard?"

" say some of the dumbest shit in ur sleep. Always babbling about some dumb shit or another. What u you have a family? Your smart, and funny. U even think ur good looking. I swear those drugs have u all fucked up. Ur not smart u fucking retard. Who the fuck would fuck u. What woman, would ever be with someone who looks like u...."

At this point he breaks out a mirror and shoves it in my face. That is when i see what he is talking about. I see the object of his laughter and why he would think I was insane. In the mirror i hardly see a resemblance to my face, it is all mongoloid. Bloated, twisted. I finally hear myself talk as i sob. I drag my words, kicking and screaming from my mouth. they sound stupid, i am not me. I am the fucked up version of me. My thoughts begin to i cant concentrate, as if thinking is a damn chore.

Yeah at that point i wake up. I lean over and kiss my son, and wife. I realize it was a dream, but then i remember the movie Jacob's ladder. Where his dreams of him dying in a field in the middle of Viet Nam is really his life. The family and his entire existence he thought he was living was the dream...the fantasy.

That still messes me up. Things have been pretty great for me. I am thankful for what I have and the people in my life, but more so after that night. It may sound silly and i know there is at least one asshole who will take this opportunity to say something stupid about me. Like that the dream wasnt that far off, but whatever. That is my nightmare. Not blood and guts. Not needles and snakes, but that every great thing in my life, my life as whole is not real.

So share with FW13, what is ur best nightmare? Does it still linger in ur mind? Can u dream at all? If not, would u want to?

Happy Halloween bitches!


Friday, October 24, 2008

Athletic Glory

So here I am...3:15 am...lying in bed with an ice pack on my eye. all i can say. How did i get here? Oh...let me guess u have ideas i was in a bar fight or a something cool like that. is my story...

Playing SS has always been my favorite position on a diamond. Since I was a kid, I emulated Ozzie Guillen and wanted to play the position more than anything. I am probably a better outfielder, with a weaker arm, but SS is a calling. The 'captains' spot. There I am, ready to back hand a ball. Makes the throw easier, and keeps my bitch ass away from the ball. The ball decides to jump and it grazes my glove and clips me right under my right eye brow. First thought in my head was, 'fuck, where is the ball?' Second of course...'ur a pussy for not getting in front of that'. Third...'is my eye getting puffy?' train of thought.....

Quick Segue I
I have huge eyes. Got them from my mom who is affectionately called 'ojitos' by my dad, which means 'lil eyes'. She does not have little eyes..neither do I. Are they bug they are big orbitals.

So, I start thinking, can I play through this? I have two homers in the bank for the game, and my team needs me. I am not conceited, but I know what i bring to the team. Comedy! This is now my second injury and I know people are wondering if I am snake bit. I am quite confident if there were snakes around I would have gotten bit! So I stay in a while...check the bump...nothing major. Wipe the sweat off my brow....nothing major......wait...that isn't only sweat. I have a little blood. I pull myself and check it further. I can see just fine, and isn't bleeding like crazy. Shadez tells me I might need a stitch or two, but he is a wuss. Won't play tackle, avoids contact in the paint, and has tried to basket catch every ball hit to him. Mostly, I am just mad I am even having this conversation with Shadez...snake bitten i tell you! Ain't his fault for telling me the truth. Fuck it, I put the cap back on, and play. Leading off I smack a single and play.

Quick Segue II
My dad is a beast. All 5'7" of him is beast like. When I was little, I watched him get hit in the stomach with fastball and keep playing the game. I am fully convinced he could wrestle a bear and win, then have dinner with it and be the best of friends. That's the type of cat he is, and there was no way I was letting that legacy down.

So I keep playing, score a run on a close play at home and not once did I think about my eye. Not once did I consider anything but playing. I should have been thinking about my son they say. Why? He is not losing his dad over this. Plus, he has to know heart matters more than talent. Play through acceptable pain, because it builds character. In life, you will get kicked in the teeth and you have to know it is ok to hurt, but you keep going.

So unofficially we win, but because of a scoring mistake we don't mark the run. I am just happy we played hard, and that i helped. Then another team needs me to play...and i do. Playing is ok with me and my eye so far is fine...then after three horrendously cowardly matadors on a ball, I realize...What the fuck am I doing?

Why am I risking playing with this crap ass team? Being tough is one thing...being a dumb ass is another. Even my dad would be questioning me right now. That and asking me why I didn't get in front of that ball.

Quick Segue III
Me being a dumb ass is not out of the question. Spraining an ankle and continuing to problem. I have done that a few times. Not the best idea...but I ain't no quitter!

I packed it up after thinking about it. I wanted to see my son and get ice on this thing before I looked like the guy who lost the fight. By the time I got to my car, my eye had swollen a little more. What was worse was the cut staring back at me in the mirror. Shadez was right, it did look like i needed stitches. Damn...well he still wont play he weak.

Quick Segue IV
Shadez wont play tackle because he doesn't want to get hurt. this how u go through life. Worrying about pain that isn't there? Then again, his eye is fine, and I look like the boxer who lost.

Time to go to the hospital. Fuck, as a kid I swear I should have gotten frequent visitor points. Hell, earlier this year i dislocated my shoulder and spent three hours as my shoulder hung at an off angle before i got help. NOT THIS TIME I SAID! This time I am taking my mom's advice. I am going to MY hospital where my doctor is. I hear I will get faster service that way. Sure enough I see the triage nurse right away and I am checked in quick. "how long is the wait?"
"about an hour we are tracking"
That is cool...I can do an hour (time of arrival 10:35pm)
Time before i started questioning my mom's advice 12:45am.
Time they got me back to a doctor: 1:45am
Time it took the doctor to tell me my cut is an abrasion and not a deep cut, and I don't need stitches, but rather some medical crazy glue: 5 min
Application time: 3 min
Time I left the ER: 2:25am
So between 1:45am and doc was walking around looking for glue.

Yes medical crazy glue. oh and tape. tape so that the glue wouldn't glue my eye closed. This was Northwestern Memorial Hospital...not Lopez Family Basement Memorial. Sorry Ed, no butterfly band aid. Me and my lil bro debated whether all of this would have ended with one of those.

Quick Segue V
My little bro came with me to hospital. One of the funnier aspects of my lil bro is that he is living out the show 'it's always sunny in philadelphia'. Another is that he is extremely all times. I mean whispering is not an option for this cat. So in the hospital, he is on the cell phone with his friends talking about whatever this group can think of in the loudest voice. A lady in a wheel chair was moved away, and another one was ready to punch him. All 5 feet and 90 pounds of her. Know what though...he came with me and stayed the whole that 5 footer would have been in a world of trouble had she tried!

So now I am headed home after mad hours, my eye half closed and pissed off. Going to sleep, I just think back on it. Mostly, how my kid is going to love it or go run screaming. Quick shower, ice pack, and bed and here we are.

Post Mortem
My eye closed up over night and I am continually icing it. I get to wear cool shades at work and people are now wondering if I got in a fight. Would I change anything? Yeah, I would have gone home I think and put a band aid on it until the next day. Who am I kidding...I wouldn't have changed a thing. Life is built on experiences...good and bad. It's how you recognize the difference and learn to appreciate it. I hope I turn out to be as cool as I think I am. I hope my legacy is that I will play through pain, and not just a dumb ass who doesn't know when to quit. I really hope my son doesn't freak out when he sees my eye, or tries to poke it just to stake his claim to my throne.

as always...see u in yay...well maybe a little longer obviously!

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Pigs and Gentlemen...

So fellas. I have been inspired to ask you this question by recent events, incendiary comments, and general female curiousity: Why DO men feel compelled to stare at women's chests like a deer in headlights? I'm sitting there, fully clothed (some would even say looking conservative), in a business a meeting no less. The man I am sitting next to is making no attempt to hide his fascination with my chest. I certainly don't stare at men's crotches during meetings...scratch that, I have never actually stared. Passing glances in the proper setting, ok, yes.

Is this considered appropriate among men? Are there some "man laws" governing this behavior? Some of you seem to at least pretend to be listening. Others just creep us out completely with overt stares and drool. Is this gentleman vs. pig, or are some of you just really good at it? Break it down for me...

Smile..your earned it... Part III

We here at FW care about making u smile. If there is an opportunity to bash Marky Mark while we're doing it...fuck it.
And remember, raise one to yourself...ur good people!

see u in about yeah,


It is my pleasure to shout out this man, DJ CrateBug. His link was posted on the site by JJ, and I had to know more. So I reached out and got the info direct from the man himself. I also got a sweet ass House mix, which you can get yourself by simply emailing him at:

Anyway, here is his info and hopefully your well on your way to getting that cut. Well worth it!

Name: DJ CRATEBUG (Dj David Macias)
Born: 2.18.1970 Juarez, Chihuahua (Mexico)
Status: Married
Hometown: CHICAGO BABY!!!
Dj since: 1982-83

Influenced by: Local cats in Logan Square as well as the Hotmix 5 & Djs outta NY

Style & approach: 100% Live 100% Vinyl ― Basically 2 copies of everything, live 2 record remixing, scratching, beat juggling and always doing my best to put records together that sound like they always belonged together.

Club Residencies: NONE. Free agent

Radio/Internet Residencies: WBMX.COM (Resident Mbr of "Hot Mix 6″)

Crews/Affiliations: NONE…(yet)
Still haven't jumped on the digital bandwagon…still playing wax EXCLUSIVELY and still approaching my sets like they're my last: FAST. FURIOUS. NO NONSENSE. NO SITTING STILL. IF YOU'VE SEEN ME, YOU KNOW THIS TO BE TRUE.
A heartfelt thanks to brother.

email: for a SICK ass House mix.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Rants Vol I

I. my colleague wrote an in depth term paper on the geo-economic status of the world, then wondered why I fell asleep. Why is that? Why would I choose to ignore something so clearly serious and important that involves status of not only our country, but social and political temperament across the globe? THATS WHAT WE DO TO SURVIVE. Imagine sitting around and worrying about every dying kid in Africa. Contemplating if that McDonald's I had earlier really did shorten my life span by another 15 minutes. Can't do it. That is how we do in this country and most likely across the globe. We cope. We divert, we delude ourselves because otherwise we would go nuts. More energy is poured into wondering if Lauren Conrad will ever do a sex tape and how long before we could download it. Would it be a good sex tape...NO. She is no pro, but we would still want it.

II. In other news, is Palin really that dumb or are we as a people too harsh? If you fuck up anymore, and ur somewhat famous (staring right at u Kardashian) your life is plastered all over the place for us to judge. It has become our new drug, haterade! Just start knocking people down for whatever soulless reason we can think of. So she may have misspoken, and may not know shit about shit. Does it matter? I mean we obviously we only pay attention because she is 'librarian hot'. Let's cut her a little slack? U never know, a sex tape could surface and you would feel like shit....while watching it of course!

III. So if Obama becomes the next President, does that make the White Sox, the first team? Cub fans, that sound u hear is the alarm signaling the end of your session.

IV. Is someone going to tell Mark Wahlberg he can't act or should I do it? Serious, acting like a stalker in every role you play is not acting. Hayden Christensen is finding that out painfully...well we all are. Please, someone stop him before it is too late.

V. Lil Wayne...really...Wayne..Weezy, Fireman...come on. Let me know for real, if even u think your lyrics are any good. Tight beats though!

VI. you know how great the iPhone is? I treat every other 'cell' phone out there like it is a toy for my son, Lil C, theMAYOR. CI-LO! THE LIL FIREMAN! Side note: he knows the difference and wants my iPhone!

VII. Ok, so the Republicans don't want to raise taxes...who is paying for the Bailout? Did we just legalize weed? We selling something I dont know about? Oh, wait, we're finally collecting on those oil wells we procured in the Middle East? That would sure help! Who is charge of our budget, a college freshman who works at McDs?

VIII. I am mad I don't better understand politics. I mean I am creative and can come up with a whopping fishing tale after another, but these guys are pros. It is like trying to hit a Joba Chamberlain fastball. Fuck spin, these guys are telling lies that our children don't even believe and are totally getting away with it. My kid believes in Santa, but not these jokers.

Joe Six Pack: "No officer, that dime bag belongs to my mom who has glaucoma"
RESULT = Jail!

Elected Official: "THERE ARE WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION there..we have to invade....continue this war...we are winning!"
RESULT = 8 years in office.

IX. Why can guys bust each other's balls, to a degree that a stranger overhearing the convo wants to the call cops, but never get upset. Yet a woman says hi with the wrong inflection, and all of a sudden, Blood feuds are declared and Jimmy Carter is called in to hopefully come to some accord with the warring factions. Did a guy do this? Has the male population secretly implanted a poison pill in every woman so that they could never realize they are 51% of the population and, if ever united, would easily overrun the rule of man. Sports would be a tertiary TV option and even then would feature the WNBA and Field hockey. Right now, as of this writing, and in a 4 hour window, I have insulted 4 co-workers so badly, I should arrested for mental abuse, yet there we were having lunch and laughing. Oh crap...let the poison pill secret out of the bag didn't I?

X. Facebook and MySpace users....yeah u with the 100+ friends...really? Really, u attention whores, u have that many people that are 'friends'? You talk all the time, and have bfast on Sunday and talk politics? I don't fucking think so. I am thinking you just started clicking on your HS/College acquaintances and augmented that by taking in all public requests to be added as friends even though u have no idea who that person is. Is this a game to you, to house all these people as 'friends' like you own a piece of their soul. I mean, even I have some people I NEVER TALK TO on Facebook, but at least I know them. A list of 100+, sounds like your compensating for not having any real friends. Sounds like someone needed more hugs growing up, and possibly a loving Mom and Dad. Harsh i know, but this haterade shit is addicting.

...nothin' nothin' u ain't scarin nothin! - lil weezy!

see u in about yeah!

Smile..your earned it... Part II

Well this weekend was a pretty rough one, given the economic climate, and the Bears snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. Still, we all deserve to smile, and be happy. So in that spirit, we present, our Colombian Correspondent, Johnner, showing us, what real joy is!
Remember, you're good people!

see u in about yeah

Friday, October 10, 2008

Smile..your earned it... Part I

On top of music discussions and being preachy, we here like to remind u to smile. Yeah, the economy is all fucked up, but hey, who cares when u can laugh. Did u really need that pea green striped Duvet? I didn't think so. So enjoy the clip, laugh a little and if at all possible raise a glass to yourself. Your good people!

Monday, October 6, 2008

Being a Fan

Why are we fans of sports? How is it that we use professional teams to define part of us? I know most people in the world don't have a team, but they have something. For me, being a sports nut, and a proud Chicagoan, I use my teams. I AM A SOUTHSIDER! I BEAR DOWN. I run with the BULLS with the best of them. I wear my heart on my sleeve every pitch of every inning every summer. I back the Sox in the fan frontlines, and i wear Black to ensure that no one is mistaken. I will get into discussions with geo-political fervor over why my team is so much better than yours. Hell, I even use my fantastic memory and amateur clarivoyant skills to decifer the next pitch, or next play, or next offensive set. I do this with a straight face and no pretense that I am not even on the teams and benefit in any financial way.

The question is why? Why immerse ourselves? I think it is because we like to be associated with something. For me, I like to represent my city. For others, they want to be represented by a winner. Which explains how a colombian with no sense of anything becoming a New York Fluffer. Still, it is our obsession that compels the question why. How we rationalize the heroin high after a win and the depressing crash after a loss.

It is like a religion. A choice that has deep effect. Don't believe me? For the sports nuts out there, would you date someone who roots for your rival? Southsiders, would you date a Cub Fan? Yankees, how does Boston ass rank on your desirability scale? CArdinals, u would bang a bleacher bum, but would you treat them with any respect?

I know I am not alone when I live and breathe this stuff. I know how good it feels to be united behind a cause that doesn't require me getting shot in the desert or laying down on the street in front of tanks. I have my uniform, I have my colors. I have my passion.


and yes...I have not forgotten u, you lovable bastards...LETS GO MORTON MUSTANGS!