La Mala Vida

I'VE MOVED

2008-08-28T20:58:00.001-04:00

I've Moved

2008-08-18T14:02:00.000-04:00

MY SITE IS DOWN

2007-08-29T20:58:00.000-04:00

because my ex is a numb fuck.
he went to my website and saw a post where I called him a midget motherfucker. basically because he is a midget motherfucker. but now i get to call him a bitch ass nigga as well.
he got all irate because i called him fitty kinds of short on the site. so what did he do?
did he go on his own blog and call me every kind of whore?
no.

this motherfucker decides to threaten me. no big deal. i've dealt with worse.
but no that wasn't enough.
this motherfucker decides to send me nasty text messages. whatever bitch-ass. delete.
but no, that wasn't enough.
this motherfucker decides to harass me on the phone. aight, now you pushin it. click.
BUT NO THAT WASN'T ENOUGH.

this no good trifling ass bitch made motherfucker,
posted an ad on craigslist.
telling folks i was offering blow jobs (and other stuff).
for 40 bucks.
and posted my real name.
and my real number.
and my mama's number.
then,
then folks...
this dumb rassclat responded to people who e-mailed him.
and gave them my website so they could see my pictures.
and told them where i lived.
and sent people to my crib.

fucking whore-son

best part?
stupid ass trick baby posted the ad using his OWN FUCKIN EMAIL ADDRESS.
then he responded to people from his OWN FUCKING BLACKBERRY.
paper-trail much?
WHAT A SCUNTHOLE.

so yeah,
my site's down for a while.
but i'll be back as soon as i'm done dealing with this BITCH in boy's clothing...

My Ex Is A STILL Dipshit

2007-08-14T15:34:00.000-04:00

and other fine tales, random rants and stuff o that nature.
All over at
Mala Vida.
Go.
There.
Now.

I'm Back

2007-08-07T12:27:00.001-04:00

Server's back up, thank goodness.
I actually was patient and didn't call Matty (my best pal-iest webmaster/afropunk partner in crime/ sarcasm king).
I really should call him though, we haven't laughed at fools in some time...

Anyhoo, I posted a throwback. Go read the shit.
Please?
Thanks.

Mala Vida
It's all about me.
Yup.
The personal website is the new blog.
Word.

Damn My Faulty Server

2007-08-06T15:22:00.000-04:00

my server crashed.
my site is down.
i ain't got shit to do.
exceptin for usin bad english n shit.
i've already visited everyone that i absolutely positively adore.
they have real jobs that require them to pay attention.
unlike me.
this sucks.
i want to punch something.
i sit alone at work for just such reasons.
bear with me.
i'll be back

in the meantime i jacked ideas from 2 people. one i was doing for a while but so many people got on my nerves about it that i stopped. then i noticed that cajun boy could give a fuck what anyone said so i went back to doing the casual no-caps writing style. that shit rocks. thanks cajun boy.

the second i jacked from elle the pirate. she puts random quotes at the bottom of her posts. that shit is cool. i will be swagger jacking. yup. thanks elle.

word.

famous last words: "you're a tiny little frail little fragile little thing. all of your weight is in your ass..." - Brown

P.S. i should smack him, right?

My Personal Life On Display

2007-07-30T12:42:00.000-04:00

No longer Mala Bravo.
Back to being plain ole Mala!
It feels good.
Read all about it:
Mala Vida

Yo soy Mala... siempre

braise gebus
thank the lawd.
hey-men

Mala Mag: Sorta...

2007-04-27T17:39:00.000-04:00

Yeah.
I moved.
My bad effin life

See ya.

M. Bravo, out...

MALAMAG.COM: The Beta Test Period

2006-12-14T04:14:00.000-05:00

Updade April 4, 2007 9:22 am
I do like drupal 5.0.
Damn.
But I can't find a theme that I like.
This is taking longer than I thought.

M. Bravo! struggling...

Update March 20, 2007 9:41 am

Ok, so I'm adding stuff bit by bit every day.
My lap is getting closer to going wireless.
I'm going to stop estimating launch dates since life is all over the place right now and I'm just spitting in the wind.
I am still deleriously happy.
I'm going to go add the shopping section now.
Wepa!
Bravo.

M, out...

Update March 5, 2007 4:13 pm
Y'ALL WHINE LIKE LITTLE GIRLS.
Dang.
I put the "pretty site" back up. I wasn't trying to use the roafi picture that was up there but I'm tired of hearing "yo M, I think your site is broke" so I am just going to have to deal until I can get copies from a more recent shoot.
Everything else is still the same. I'm making what moves I can as fast as I can.

Oh yeah, I'm blogging over there now. Something to do when I want to vent or whatever. The section is called Blahgs...

Otherwise, yeah, you still gotta wait.
Deal with it.

M, out...

Update February 27, 2007 1:10 PM
Aw people...
I know, I know...
I'm slacking on my pimping but my life is unfolding in strange, beautiful ways.

In Mala News:
Thanks to the assistance of the incomparable Matty, there will be wi-fi in my lap.
Soon.
Yup.
NY... I'm so over you.
Yup.
I certainly am...
Antigua's 50th year of independence gets celebrated this summer with the fam. Oh those white beaches. Gonna get brown and dunk my toesies
Sweating at the plantation, but laughing with Marcy makes it worth it (ok, that and the paycheck).
Chillin with the fam... you know there's plenty, plenty food involved. And a little bit of grief but, we'll make it through.
Yup.
We surely will.
Laughing with migente, even the ambiguously gay ones that sorta wanna date me.
Um.
No.
Thanks.
Spending lots of time watching a man fall in love.
(con mi... maravilloso,no? Sí!!!!)
Just been busy.
Nahmean?

In Mala Mag News:
I've taken down the "pretty" site and just put up a basic functional model. I need to get some masthead and themework done as well as remove the current photo as I don't deal with the person that took it and I vowed not to use/promote their work without permission (that I do not at all intend to ask for).
Never fear, the old look and feel will return.
I have managed to work on content.
I'm still on the grind.

Keep bearing with me.
Why?
Well... because... I'm cute.

M, out....

Update February 15, 2007 12:06 PM

I am a very, very, VERY happy woman.
& I think this is it.
Seriously.
I believe I've finally got things right.
Bravo! *heart*
Yup.

In website news:
I have not been working as I should. I admit this fact readily and I do have valid reasons which I mentioned before. Anyway, lack of internet and time will no longer be an issue as of Wednesday, February 20, 2007. I will begin content addition on that day. If you all have anything you would like posted (snippets, pictures and such) feel free to send it to mala@malamag.com. Tentative launch date: March 14, 2007.

Thanks for bearing with me.

M, out...

Update February 7, 2007 12:45 pm

Um, don't spank me but I haven't been able to get much done in terms of the site. My wireless at home is down and I've been absolutely swamped. Between "workin' fo da man" and getting some side projects done (*giggle* - side projects - *giggle*) I haven't had much time to diddle with the dongle or trek it anywhere else to pimp the net. Like I noted before, the general configuration of the entire site is 98% complete. I am now ready for content. I am hoping to get it all in as soon as possible. However, at the rate things are going, I won't be able to dedicate much time to content addition until next Monday.
Forgive me.
Pretty please?
Thanks.

In other news...
THE DARK TOWER: THE GUNSLINGER BORN.
I have a feeling that I am going to be very happy very soon.
I missed the signing by the artists last night (boo hiss - Matty I got the message too late dagnabit) but I can live with that.
I can definitely live with getting that comic in my hands.
It's gonna happen.
It BETTER happen!

Yup.

M, out....

UPDATE JANUARY 31, 2007
This has nothing to do with my website.
So don't say I didn't warn you....

"The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed."
I read those words for the first time when I was thirteen.
It has been a long, long, deep, deep, love affair.
Quite possibly one of the longest I have ever had in my life.
And now, with the assistance of the Tale Master, they bring the saga forward.
They give it color.
They give face.
They prompt our imaginations so that we may change it or conform to it.
Everything that happens with this series prompts me to feel.
Now...
If you love me
or
you want me to be your slave:

The purchase and presentation of this new comic could not only make me very happy but could make some poor fool VERY lucky...
You have no idea how lucky.
I break fool for graphic novels.
I began the Gunslinger when I was just a wee lass and now as a grown wee lass I still re-consume it.
The last Gunslinger has been given form
Movie next?
I don't know but I'm so effin pumped.
Do you see the ink?
Do you see the detail?
Do you see?
I am amped.
Yeah.
February 7th...
I am thoroughly excited.
And I do mean EXCITED!!!!
If you know me then you know how much this means to me.
Yeah buddy.
EXCITED!!!

M, out...

Um, P.S. I'm done tweaking. All content is being removed to be replaced. Launch looming. Bear with me.

Update Tuesday, January 30, 2007 9:54 p.m.

Let's see.
A month has gone by and I feel pretty damn good about the future. I'm finally getting down to the last legs of this site so I can finally start adding content... and boy do I have a load of content. The final few things I have to work out is something within the theme template that's causing a shitload of call-to-file errors that are driving me bat shit. Also, making me a little nutty is the fact that my php template keeps adding carriage returns out of no friggin where whenever I save file so it keeps generating "cannot modify header" errors. My watchdog files are filled to the damn brim. Grrrr Arrrgh. Still and all, most of the things that truly cause major breaks are cleared up and that makes me happy. I don't think I am going to mess with any more modules for the time being. I'll finish my final tweaks and that's it, it will be on to content addition.

Bear with me.

Oh and um...
my article was published.
Yeah.
Published.

"No weapon formed against thee shall prosper" Isaiah 54:17

Back to work.

M, published...

Side note 1/23/2006...
"Friends are nothing more than enemies who have yet to betray you."

M, out....

Back to the grind.

Update Monday, January 22, 2007
I'm electing to stay with Drupal 4.7 for now. The upgrade would cause the loss of way too much functionality. Fuck that in its entirety. I've worked too hard to lose anything right now. Having said that I am going to stop playing fast and loose with the 5.0 test site and really get back to the final touches on the current site. I have a strong feeling that by next week I'll be able to devote all of my time to adding content.
On some personal shit:
To anyone that feels that I am not their friend, shit happens... take a pill. Its not that deep. I just do not have the patience to fake what I am not feeling, play kiddy games or pretend.
To anyone that has handed me my hat recently, I hope you enjoyed that shit because I don't wear those sorts of hats anymore.
To anyone that I have forgiven: feels good don't it?
I've got a tooth ache so I'm superbly grumpy.
I love life.
Really I do.

I'm gonna get back to work now.

Quake, bitches.

M, out...

Update Tuesday January 16 8:57 p.m.
730 is in stable condition. My heart has resumed beating. God is good every day.
Um and DRUPAL 5.0 has been released bitches. Upgrade in progress.
Yup.

M, out...

Update: Sunday, January 7 , 1:39 p.m.
730 took 2 to the chest, 1 to the groin.
Web work on hold. Won't be answering e-mails. Can barely think.
Too busy praying.

M, out...

P. Ok, it is out of hand S. (Updated 1/6/2007 3:35 a.m.)
Anyone who has created an account during this beta stage and found that they could not change their password may now do so. The correct access permissions have been modified. The beta build continues. And remember: I am that chick.
Have at it then!

M, out...

P. yep I be thuggin S. (Updated 1/2/2007)
They call me the Drupal ninja. My modification dragon style beats your WordPress tiger style every day motherfuckers. Image gallery navigation problems: FIXED. Contact form customization: DONE. I'm a bad mothershutyomouf.
Yup.

M, out...

P.to the P.P.P.S0.
AYO I am happier than I have any damn right to be. (UPDATED 12/27/06 2:28 p.m.!!)
Ok so here's the deal. I'm anal retentive. Big surprise. So there is functionality that allows me to add images to any kind of content I create. I wanted to use it to display images of things to vote on in polls. Long story short, the shit wasn't workin right. I would upload an image. The thumbnail of the image would be created with a link that was supposed to let the user go see the full sized image, except it wasn't working like that. The link kept going back to the original page. I WAS FURIOUS. When I tell you I have been working on this issue for like 4 fucking days, I mean that shit. After intensive search as well as realizing DUH modules can be edited in friggin notepad it's just PHP!!! I found the answer that I needed, which was a simple change in the module code. I've fixed/implemented my very first php snippet. WEPA MARICONS! Onwards and upwards. Mala Vida keeps moving!

But you know this just started something, don'tcha? Because you know
I WILL NOT BE COMPLETE UNTIL I LEARN TO CODE PHP.
Holler back.
And Quake bitches!

M, out...

P. when I put it on the S. (Updated 12/22/06 6:46 a.m.)
The site is down for major maintenance and content porting. Because of the holidays, I gotta spend time with family and tie one on so I'll be back around Tuesday or so. In the mean time: QUAKE IN FEAR!!!
and uh, Happy Everyday.

M, out...

P. and you know thiS. (Updated 12/18/06)
My apologies to everyone who had text image verification issues on the registration page. For some strange reason the module just does not want to cooperate with my cute behind. I removed it. Anyone who could not register before because of this error can go back now and get they get on! Oh yeah, quit it with the nasty emails, I'm building the damn site alone - shit takes time. For fuck's sake.

M, out...

I'm so serious with the P.S. (12/16/06)
I didn't realize I didn't give members permission to do shit. Ahahahahaha (nah for real I laughed for like a half an hour when I caught on) I changed that. Regular members can post and add n shit. Premium members can get all up in my business for real.

M, out...

P.P.S. (12/15/06)
I fixed the registration email issues. If you register now, you'll actually get your password. Friggin SMTP. I still love the hell out of drupal.

M, out...

P.S. Message (12/14/06)
Internet Explorer fucking blows ass. It distorts my entire site.
Fuck Internet Explorer.
Go FIREFOX!
Yay SAFARI!
Whoopee OPERA!
Did I mention fuck Internet Explorer?
Yeah.
Fuck that shit entirely.

M, out...

Just a Taste

2006-12-12T12:06:00.000-05:00

Of the second coming... gonna go live soon. Quake and such...

I Wanna...

Put him on my tongue and eat him alive.
Lick his spine and taste his life.
Wake up wondering if I'm imagining everything.
Writhe and shake.
Scream.
Beat my hands against the walls and try to escape.
Repeat his sounds.
Keep him in my mouth to remember his name.
Stretch my legs around his world and squeeze.
Stop being frustrated.
Punch, kick and yell.
Tuck my panties in my back pocket and dance.
Swallow him whole.
Whisper "por mi vida" while I scratch his soul.
Vent my sticky-ness.
Fuck up his sheets.
Make that noise, that noise, that noise, our noise.
Wake up the dead.
Kill reality.

I wanna.
Well, you know.
Damn.

M, out...

I'm Moving On

2006-12-11T00:13:00.000-05:00

Finally.
For the most part I've scaled down my huge game plan to something I can handle.
The website is up but still hidden until I work the last of the kinks out.
It's really simple, none of the FLASH BANG POW I initially envisioned.
But it's mine.
All mine.
I control it. I maintain it. I tweak it. I install it. I fight the database.
Mine.
I like this feeling.
I've been on the borderline between livid and estatic for days.
All the personal growth in the world doesn't change the reality that into each person's life a little bullshit may fall.
My bullshit?
I gotta get my shit together... I have been getting my shit together but check it: MY SHIT.
Not whatever the fuck everyone else thinks my shit should be.
I can't control everyone. I can't beat everyone's ass. I can't help the blind see.

Anyway, I'm not gonna get all into it.
I won't be on here much longer (well, I'll be posting teasers that nav over to the site).
When I go live, y'all should come visit me.
I think it will be more fun than here since I'm probably going to really let it all hang out...

M, gone
P.S. I saw a picture of you today that made me think to myself "God you are so fucking whack."

It's A Damn Shame

2006-12-10T02:30:00.000-05:00

I got up all fired up and ready to work and one little lapse lead to a gaggle of survey taking. I'm going to get back to work now though. I'm going to exercise a little self-discipline after I post this rediculous survey... I should be ashamed, but I'm not.

+ Known as: Mala
+ Born: K
+ Hair color: Brown
+ eye: Brown

HAVE YOU EVER
+ Fallen off the bed?: Often during sex
+ Broken someone else's heart?: Yep and I giggled my ass off... he deserved that shit.
+ Had your heart broken?: So often it's sad
+ Had a dream come true?: Sure and years later I'm still in shock

CURRENTLY...
+ Wearing: A thong and a baby T
+ Listening to: Everlasting Gobstopper by Apollo Heights (Who, by the way, will be performing at Mercury Lounge on December 19, details to follow)
+ Located: At my mom's house
+ Chatting with: no one
+ Should REALLY be: Working on my website

DO YOU...
+ Have any piercings: yep but they're the usual. I took the ring out of my nose eons ago
+ Drive: Only when someone is foolish enough to let me (my right foot is made of lead)
+ Drink: oh yessiree bob, Bacardi Limon is my friend
+ Have a cell phone: but of course

LAST PERSON YOU...
+ Hugged: Danny Castro after the KRSOne Show at SouthPaw
+ IMed: Tyromme of Say No More Entertainment (he got the ill ski trip coming up)
+ Talked with on the phone: muMs (lyin ass said he would call me back... hmpf)
+ Text: Swiss

PERSONAL...
+ What do you want to be when you grow up? I don't wanna grow up... (even though I'm grown)
+ What comes first in your life? Me
+ What do you usually think about before you go to bed? Chaos and Mayhem

FAVORITES
+ Show: Spongebob Squarepants
+ Store: La Caridad
+ Food: Red meat
+ Color: black

DO YOU...
+ Like to give hugs: in greeting depending on who it is
+ Like to walk in the rain: yep as long as it's not winter
+ Prefer black or blue: black
+ Sleep on your side: yep
+ Have stuffed animals: a few and a puppet named Buttons (stop laughing Damn Mess)

THIS OR THAT...
+ Pierced nose or tongue: nose
+ MTV or BET: I REFUSE, THEY BOTH SUCK
+ 7th Heaven or Dawsons Creek: see above
+ Chocolate or flowers: flowers
+ Color or black-and-white photos: black and white
+ Stay up late or sleep in: stay up late (that was tough, when I do sleep I hate getting up early)
+ Hot or cold: hot
+ Sun or moon: moon
+ Left or Right: right
+ 10 Acquaintances or one best friend: 10 aquaintances
+ Spring or Fall: spring
+ Happy or sad: happy
+ Wonder or amazement: amazement

FIRSTS.
First Screen Name: kallnightlong
First self purchased CD: Metallica, the black album ( at least I think it was Metallica, before that I bought records and cassets - I'm so old school)
First pet: a mouse named Cheese
First piercing/tattoo: the K on my breast (fainted before they could finish, never get a tattoo at a swap meet on a summer day while you're drunk... trust me)

LASTS.
Last GOOD cry: about 11 or so yesterday morning
Last phone call: Esury called to try to get me to hang out tonight, uh ... NOPE
Last time showered: yesterday afternoon

CURRENT.
Current mood: angry, petulant, distracted
Current food: tuna salad
Current hair: ceasar
Current annoyance(s): every and anybody

WHO LAST...
1. Made you smile: my mother
2. Saw you cry?: muMs

WOULD YOU RATHER..
1. Be serious or be funny? funny
2. Drink whole or skim milk? whole
3. Spend time with your parents or enemies? you're not serious are you? I'd only want to be with my enemies over my parents if I was able to inflict bodily harm to those that oppose me!

DO YOU PREFER...
1. Do you prefer gray or black? again? BLACK
2. Lust or love? Lust. Love is a fallacy
3. Sunrise or sunset? sunset
4. M&M's or skittles? skittles

ANSWER TRUTHFULLY...
1. Do you like anyone? unfortunately yes, and my taste is so very, VERY suspect right now...
2. Do you believe in love at first sight? I don't really believe in love... (at least not the "relationship" kind)
3. Do you fall for the wrong guy? So many times it's fucking hilarious in a sad sort of way.

Fin.

Ok, seriously, I'm gonna get back to work now.

M, out...

Monster

2006-12-09T11:08:00.000-05:00

Just a snippet that I felt like sharing...

"It began with the outer ring. The people that would hardly be missed but would still be thought of. One by one.

She was found eviscerated. He left her in the most vulgar postion possible. She was nude, parked in the lounge seat in front of her tv while a porno played soundlessly. Her legs were spread wide and her entrails spilled down between them.

He was found nailed to a wall. His toes barely grazed the ground and the 4 foot iron railroad nail was buried deep in his throat. His face was frozen into a rictus of fear. His genitals had been hacked off and thrust into his open mouth.

Then came the inner ring. Close friends that would cause tears to flow. One by one. Somehow they all knew the terror would not end until it had killed them all"

M, out... excising painful emotions and the hauntings of unrest the only way I know how.

Let's Get Ready To Ramble...

2006-12-04T08:42:00.000-05:00

Settled comfortably in front of a Dell Optiplex, standing at a whopping 5 feet tall, weighing in at an astonishing 100 pounds with a wicked keystroke, we have: MALA.
In front of god knows what, we have: you.
Gird your loins.

I've been gone for a bit so this may prove to be hellishly long. I don't know why I took a break, other than I needed one. It's been a trying time, even now as I attempt to corral my thoughts while a 6 foot 4 inch bruiser snores like a logger on my mother's couch and Captain Kirk delivers his lines with those awkward pauses he's known for, it' s still not all gum drops and lollipops. I wonder what's really what.

Last night while chatting with Ed, I told what is quite possibly the most horrendous lie that has ever had the misfortune to leave my lips. I said "fuck writing" (and somewhere in the cosmos a star died). I had spent most of yesterday in heated argument with my mother. You know, the kind of debate where one of the parental units insists on telling you exactly what you should be doing with your life. Writing is not a true occupation to my mother. She went on to relate to me, ad fricken nauseum, how long it takes for a writer to "make it" and point out that a lot of people only "make it" post-humously. She insists that I have neither the time nor the luxury of depending on words to take care of me. She had me sold for a moment. I thought that she may just be right, I may just need to get a nice little job and make a nice little living so that I can have a nice little life. Then I remembered that there is very little nice about me... at least in the sense of being satisfied with anything nice or little. This grievous discussion went on for hours with tiny barbs being thrown, to the point that I wished I had the heart to utter the words "would you please, in the name of all that's holy, shut the FUCK UP." However, my dearest readers, although I am stout of heart, I am, by far, not foolish of brain. I would never dare attempt such a statement because to be blunt, moms has me by a good 100 or so pounds and would make short work of beating the yellow off my ass (plus I've seen her fight, she's nice with hers). So I held my tongue and allowed her to browbeat me mercilessly. Just when I was about to fold like a wet blanket I realized, I am never happier than when I am writing. It doesn't matter what I am writing, as long as words flow from my mind. Like most, I am my own worst critic and harsh like sandpaper when it comes to judging my work but still writing makes me happy.
Damn a nice little life as it would make me miserable. I finally smiled and said "well I guess I'll just be broke then" and she harrumphed away mumbling something about a hard head. I couldn't help but sling a bit of sass. I may have a hard head but having a nice soft ass is so very often WORTH IT.

Onwards.

I don't know exactly where to begin with times now past so I'll just throw in a few tidbits that have stuck over the last week or so. Roughstars rocked R&R this past Tuesday night. It was a bit of a farce since Forrest elected to have them go on at some ungodly hour of the morning when most of the patrons had moved on to spot number 2. It was a major disservice to the band. Major. I also feel like they were not meant to play in the line up as it were since these guys bring a rough, rapid UK rock sound to a laid back r&b type night. They kicked what little ass was left in the spot and I look forward to seeing them perform in a place more suited to the vibe that they wear like a second skin. Lots of love from Mikel and sharing a joke over a glass of house wine with Tjade is nothing to sneeze at either. Bazaar Royale busted into an impromptu performance of "I Know Pain" that blew minds with T-Bone, drumming madman of Game Rebellion, sitting in. As always it was a pleasure to see a host of people that I know (which made me realize sheeze, I know alotta damn folks) and shit talking with muMs into the wee hours about nothing was par for the course.

Thursday I was a woman on a mission. There were no shows a popping but I fully intended to get into some, um, trouble. Which leads me to this whole weird thing about sexuality. It's no crime but it is a trifle wearisome and confusing. There are some that come from the school of dowhatchalike and there are others that swear you can't turn a ho into a housewife. If you choose either school of thought you'll either end up a ho or a virgin until death. So what does one do in this insane predicament? Do you wait around, holding on to your precious jewel spending night after night freezing in the shower or do you let it all hang out and take a few trips around the block? I don't know. I've still not the answer to that question. I have found no happy medium, rather only a tricky, sticky middle road that more often than not, leaves me either squashed like a grape or hornier than Bambi. I don't have the temperament to fling it around willy nilly nor do I have the moral fortitude to not take a tumble when I choose. I've found that I tend to have serial sex: choosing one partner for whatever reason until I am tired/aggravated/bored out of it (as was the case with my last lover) or forced to move on (as was the case with my lover of yore). It generally works out for the most part as long as I tether my feelings, which I have become most adroit at since having my hat handed to me once too often by the same person. Short of my ego being bruised (which prompts me to act in a most unladylike fashion) I really just don't give a fuck. I mean honestly. I don't.
But still it's weird. Unbeknowst to most, I am one of the most piss-poor sensitive sods out there. I mean it. Left to my own devices, I cry while watching movies, the news or reading sad tales because I actually empathize with the story as a whole. Shit, I can't watch anything alone without weeping like a wimp. Then again, I'd be a heartless cad if my brother were killed and I shed not a tear.
This really gets me in deeeeeeep shit when it comes to relationships and such. If I actually like someone, the level of caring that goes into dealng with them is nothing short of harrowing. I care. I worry about their well being, their mental state, their happiness, their life. I internalize their emotions and day to day activities as if they are my own. I've had that come to naught or on the flip side, eat up precious moments of my life (which turned from minutes into hours into days into years which then flew the fuck by) way to often. I do not intend to be a housewife. I will not be satisfied at home, cordoned off from the world by a white picket fence, aproned, with a baking sheet weighted down by gingersnaps. I also do not think I would be happy without love and companionship either. However, I have come to the realization that my few friends are dear and true. The love I receive is unfettered and deep. Therefore I'm not truly lacking anything and sex is a thing given or taken as I see fit. And ONLY as I see fit.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Trouble. Minus the consequences and repercussions n shit. If your linguistic dexterity is deft enough, you can make it rhyme with Mala. Ah to be me! I got me a hell of a load of trouble. Whew. I stopped by Snitch for the Fabulaun promoted party (where Jaysumma was summarily absent) and was appalled. What had once been a particularly rocking party had dwindled down to a few regulars sitting around looking hopelessly bored. Add one flat-assed go-go dancer and some other fully dressed broad making a stage of the booth-back and the sum was 1 Mala looking somewhat disgusted. Might I add, the dj should have been shot. Long ago.
ACCIO TRENCH COAT, I is ready to go. I hugged Kelsey, who popped up just as I was about to exit, door left and made my way down those steep, steep stairs in my high, high boots. Trouble began with me being lifted a good 4 feet in the air and ended with a hangover the size of Texas.
Good Times.

Friday night was a lu-lu. I made it to Trash bar in Willies-burg just in time for Apollo Heights. I don't even know what to say. They are so dope they defy words so I won't do them a disservice by trying to describe the sound. Then my babies went on. If you motherfuckers ain't up on Pillow Theory, y'all just don't know. They've got some shit for your collective asses. I am so very, very proud to know them and to be here at the beginning of what promises to be a hellafied musical rout. Sleepers will awaken eventually and what a thing that will be. My babies RIPPED THAT SHIT. Athough the monitor gave some feedback and the mic went out a few times, it was a joy to behold. I take intense pleasure in listening to their now layered sound sans the dramatic bullshit that once plagued their shows. I can't wait for the next one... and I don't have to: December 16th @ Snitch, write that down in your datebook.

I was cutting out to go to party number 2 when I had to avert disaster. Negro had come downtown with his boys and had called me some insane amount of times. In full panic mode he finally reached me and the spanish expletives blistered my ears for most of the cab ride to meet him. I got to 4th street, dealt with the cussing and pocketed a few dollars with promises that I would call when I got back to the Heights, then exited, cab right.
I headed over to Dirty Disco and was pleasantly surprised. The party was jumping, dual floors allowing for choice in music, both djs doing their respective duties. I chilled there for a while before heading to spot number 3 with Justina.
We arrived at the venue and the door girl tried to give us shit. After some swift negotiations we went inside and I wanted to exit immediately if for no other reason than to trip the doorwhore. How can you give people a hard time when the damn spot is EMPTY? Damn you woman! I had a drink, looked around, danced a little then thought to myself "this shit is whack as all get out, I'm gone."
I hit my boy Stormin' who was headed for breakfast and we yapped over a meal at Coffe Shop (I made those eggs disafrickenppear). Kels called to berate me a bit because he erroneously believed that I was wrapping myself up with someone who is dumber than a barrel of bull's nuts. I reassured him that this was not at all, by any means, the case (because nowadays I find it singularly difficult to give a fuck about fools) and after putting his mind at ease, tucked into a plate of salty bacon. Pork, the other, other meat.
Then it was back to the Heights where I threatened Negro, and I do mean it: I ever catch those gargantuan Timbs on my bed again, there's gonna be a fucking misunderstanding.
Enter Morpheous.

Saturday I spent looking a boatload of papers that, if piled one atop another, would probably be taller than me. I mentioned before in another short piece (entitled Confessions of an Autodidact: Part 1) that according to my transcripts, in two years between 2 schools and a veritable shitload of absences, I pulled down a 3.15 gpa (damn that second year French and required Orientation, as it had been a 3.45). I had toyed with the idea of going back to school since 2 more years would net me a degree of some sort. The toying is over, I'm going back. If nothing else, my mother will be quite pleased with that piece of paper they give you at the end of it all, since to her it would validate my intelligence. Ah parents, where would we be without them? Underneath the aforementioned transcripts and A papers was a rediculous amount of stories, most incomplete, all worthy of some kind of attention. It was frustrating to realize just how many ideas have made it out and ended up stagnant in some drab olive hanging folder. My complaint of this fact to my mother is what lead to the neverending discussion about what I shall be in this life. I don't know exactly what I am going to be. I only know who I am and that my ideas merit my attention. Whatever will come of it, at least they will not wither and die an ignoble death from either knocking around in my already too full brain or yellowing and curling in a file cabinet. I will write because I can.
Onwards.
That night Jerrica, Chubbs, Daddy and I drank down Coogans while talking mucho shit. After the boozing, I stopped at Mickey D's (someone PLEASE put me out of my effin' misery. Please? Thanks.) and went home to find a serious session of rummy going on complete with laughter, shouting and plastic cups of Brugal. Ah the Heights... ya gotta love it.

Sunday leads us back around to the top of this post and the end of this current foray into the mind and madness of Mala. As usual, I wrote this because I damned well felt like it. Hopefully Ed will forgive my awful mistruth, muMs will read what I sent him, Kels will understand that it's hard for me to take something stupid seriously, Negro will stop snoring to wake the dead and I'll be able to coax one more cup of coffee out of the pot. I'll try not to stay away for too long should I decide to absent myself yet again, the "where are you" emails tanned my hide.

Onwards.

- M, out...

Didja Miss Me?

2006-12-03T23:14:00.000-05:00

Well folks, it's been some time.
Much has gone on. I have talked much shit. I have rambled through these dirty streets. I have had a dirty mind (like that's something new). I've come to more realizations. I've accepted some old, other, next stuff. I've had an interesting sojourn.

I'd write more about it right this very moment if I weren't 4 different kinds of hungry and about to inhale some grub. I'll be back...
In a few hours or so.
Ok, maybe more like tomorrow... I gotta sleep this pasta off.
ciao.

- M.
P.S. "You are the dopest person you know. Word up." general words of wisdom from one of the flyest dudes I know...

Update 2 a.m. I have found yet another reason to procrastinate and it's name is DEXTER. (yes Matty, now I too am a forensic addict.) A room full of non-coagulating blood and no tissue. Classic.
And love is going to pick up a chick at her mom's and ending up sitting on the couch watching some gory shit (choose your friends wisely).

2006-11-12T12:00:00.000-05:00

Am I the only friggin person that reads Decartes because I'm curious?
All I want is to "borrow" a copy of Le Monde or L'Homme.
Please?
Thanks.
Bottom to the grindstone. Never fear, I shall return...
(probably in the next few days once I get what needs to be done, done.)
Quit it with the nasty emails ok?
Please?
Thanks.
I'll be back

In the meantime: Quake.

2006-11-12T05:00:00.000-05:00

New Young Pony Club: Ice Cream

2006-11-12T01:05:00.000-05:00

It's dope because I said so...

- M, out.

WordSmith

2006-11-09T17:25:00.000-05:00

au‧to‧di‧dact [aw-toh-dahy-dakt, -dahy-dakt]

a person who has learned a subject without the benefit of a teacher or formal education; a self-taught person.

[Origin: 1525–35; autodídaktos self-taught; see auto-, didactic]

Get ya word game up people, either that or get a dictionary and stop asking me stupid ass questions...
Please?
Thanks.

- M to the...

Small Tales

2006-11-08T22:13:00.000-05:00

I do this because I can... Funny thing how all of my protagonists, heroines and evil doers are women, is it not? Quake - continually even.

They sat around the shabby table in the club and reveled in their new found camaraderie. Karl was not much for making new friends but he had to admit that he liked the new guy. A good ten years younger than him, the young man possessed a poise and sense of humor that Karl couldn’t help but warm to. Maybe it was that or the fact that in the elevator ride leaving work, Karl realized he was completely entranced with the newcomer’s sister who had come to meet them for the impromptu dinner. He had watched her intently from the corner of his eyes as the quartet walked to the café not far from their job.

She was a tiny but elegant creature with a strange name. He rolled it around on his tongue, Omega, and wondered again what kind of parents they had who had chosen to name their children after long dead Greek Gods and ideas. The kid’s name was Ares and he spoke often of his twin brother Adonis as if he too were present in the small jazz cafe. John laughed beside Karl, a hearty affair, as Ares related his newest mishap as a novice at the job. Karl thought to himself that if he be forced to have friends it certainly helped to share drinks with men of like mind.

Mid-sentence Ares paused, a quick, worried look flashing across his face. Both Karl and John turned, following his stare across the room. Omega stood like stone as a man held one of her arms firmly in his grip as he leaned down intimately close to her ear.

“Shit,” Ares muttered around the half chewed chicken in his mouth. Karl and John made as if to rise but he held out his hand to stop them. ”Don’t. She’ll be fine. Give me your knives.” Seeing their looks of confusion he simply smiled, “you don’t know Omega. Give me your knives.” Stunned, they complied however hesitatingly.

They watched the drama unfold silently. Karl wished he could be cavalier and race to Omega’s rescue but Ares’ command and unconcerned attitude befuddled him. He was sure that if the woman gave sign of need, her brother would race to her side but Ares seemed more concerned with the food in front of him than the plight of his sister. She attempted to walk away once then twice and each time the man pulled back on her arm with a slack-jawed grin. She was stoic and stood as if nothing were amiss. Finally one of the man’s ape-like friends punched him playfully in the shoulder and he let go of Omega’s arm, attempting to swat her ample behind as she swayed gracefully away.

She made her way to the table and calmly put down the drinks she held in each hand.

“Annik ain shev,” she addressed her brother in an almost jovial manner. Karl’s blood began to race as their mother tongue left her lips like spun silk. She stretched her arms and twirled her lustrous heritage into a tight bun above her head. Wisps of hair escaped their prison and fell against the sharp, high planes of her cheekbones. Karl longed to reach out and tuck the unruly tresses behind her ears but was unsure if the rush of unbidden tenderness would be misconstrued as another unwanted advance.

“Oh-mey-gah…” Ares drew out her name the way a mother would call to a petulant child.

“Shev. Kinu.” No more a request, now a command. Heaving a great sigh, Ares conceded and handed her his steak knife, handle first. He stood as she spun on her heel and strode back towards the table of her would-be tormenter. He made no move to follow her and John stood flushed at his side, seemingly dazed at what was fast becoming an unpleasant turn of events.

Karl’s decision was already made and he followed fast on her trail as she moved towards the table of boisterous drinking men. He was willing to protect her even if it cost him a severe beating at the hands of beer-soaked rowdies, but somewhere deep inside he knew that it was not a price he would have to pay. Not tonight. The table quieted as she stood before it and in a moment’s breath, her hand flashed. With unholy venom she drove the knife deep into the already scarred wood in front of the man who had vainly sought to beguile her. She opened her lush, full lips and when the words came forth, they fell like chips of broken ice into the already frozen silence. No one breathed.

“Should you have the misfortune to ever cross my path again and I so much as think you have touched a woman without her leave I will cut off your hands and feed them to you.” She smiled sweetly. “You gentlemen have a nice evening.”

With that she turned and walked sedately away leaving Karl gaping along with the other awestruck men at the table. Karl closed his mouth slowly, looked at the knife, the blade buried nearly half-way into the table and started to laugh. He turned his back and followed Omega’s path. As he neared their own seats, his laugh had progressed into a gut clenching roar that was echoed by the two men standing there.

Omega sat serenely; her drink in hand staring at the three men as if they had lost their collective minds. Innocently she looked up at Karl batting her long black eyelashes coyly.

“Was it something I said?”

Fin

Another 15 Minutes of Madness

2006-11-08T17:52:00.000-05:00

But this may turn into more than a warm-up exercise

There had been a rage in the universe once he discovered that they had stolen his seed. At first he was unsure of the why but he knew who and that demon had suffered. It seems that the hope was to bring a child into being that could rival his power. So they sent him an allure who plied him with fire drinks and pleasure. She escaped with his fluid to parts unknown. It was not until many suns had passed that he discovered the deception and his fury was ignited. He could not find the child. He knew then that the only reason could be that his seed had gone into a vessel of good. Good. The only force he could not fathom.

He had searched the galaxies leaving dead planets and beings in his wake. The burnt out husks that bore the brunt of his anger spun in the skies, a testament to a demon lord enraged. Finally, after torturing demi-gods and angels alike, he found his child. A girl. Near-beaten by a harsh life she had sent out a plea to the heavens to remove her from the waking world. This was a normal occurrence on worlds such as the one where she dwelt, but the plea struck him to the core. It was no normal plaint for it held such base fury that he could taste it and knew immediately that such dread and awful feelings could only come from one of his ilk. Her deathwish reeked of destruction. She did not want to die alone, rather, she wanted to destroy the very stars with her tears. All that held her back was the blood of her mother coursing through her veins, the blood of good. He would soon relieve her of that blood. She was the only being of her kind, his child and the only being he could love.

He ripped apart the atmosphere. Where his cloven hooves touched, the ground shrieked and chasmed. The power of his passage blew building apart. Animals, a sight more intelligent than man fled in terror. The governments sent armies to stop him and some died, mercifully, at thought of attacking the dark lord. Others were not so lucky and perished in the heat of his ire, skin running like water, bones fusing in melted masses in the streets. The horror did not end until he found her, or rather she found him for like called to like and instead of running to no escape she sought him out. In the great clearing in the middle of the city she faced him without fear.

He looked down upon her, suffused with pride and love, as she stared balefully at him.
"My child," he intoned.
She fell to her knees before him, out of relief rather than respect.
"Father, take this from me." she said simply

And so began The Deth of Irth

- a work in progress (the list grows ever-longer)
Yo soy Mala... siempre

P.S. Hey Ed, I'm still angry, they're all still whack as fuck but at least my writer's block is gone (and this only took 8 minutes TOTAL). Ready when you are....

Ok, Ok...

2006-11-06T22:43:00.000-05:00

This is a psa for my close friends/fam
I get it.
I get it.
The only thing that is truly whack in life is giving a fuck about some whack shit.
Back to the grind y'all
Oh yeah, Ed Marshall is DOPE.

Right there... that's it.

It's finna be a mothafuckin misundastandin - QUAKE BITCHES!!!!

- working, sans acrylic!

ACCIO INSPIRATION!!!

Writing Flashbacks I

2006-11-06T21:47:00.000-05:00

A once-upon-a-time tidbit that I happened to come across.
Weird.
How do I come up with this shit?

One

I was in that non-space. That dull, lifeless place that feels dimmer. His voice droned on behind me muted and far away. In the back of my mind I could feel but that too fell short of real and I idly wondered why I was there. My knees had sunken into the lumpy mattress, my hands had followed suit and I played at this sex-thing with him. There was no art in what we did. No arch to my back, no rythm to his thrust. We were kids imitating grownups in a lackluster fashion. Somehow I guess we felt this was needed needed to prove that we were mature. We could surpass our parent's folly. To this end, we dallied in drab, unkempt rooms, our fumbling limbs and graceless actions overshadowed by our own belief.

We were grown.

And so he moved behind me, swinging to and from my body, his member hardly felt, maybe no bigger than my longest digit and me making the required noises from some tape set to auto play deep in my mind. Like chasing a ball down a long corridor, the sound of his voice began to run in the hallway of my mind, bringing with it color and feeling. I could feel his fingers digging into the flesh of my backside and another autopilot screamed that it would leave marks. His sound began to form into words that banged on the door. They jostled for purchase over the doorjamb,crammed themselves into the keyhole and flooded that slim space where the door met the floor, the mailman's ally. I could hear again and had to hurry from the place that was not, since words pierced the atmosphere in sharp shards that were jarring and unkind. I wondered out, padded back to the present, the now where it was bright and indeed, he was talking.

"You are not my girlfriend, do you understand me? You are my second friend and if you see me in the street with anyone you don't say nothing to me till I speak to you. Ok?"

I stood behind the windows as they darted right to left and back. Ah, I had stayed too long in the non-space, so long that I had ended up here. After months of courting this is what he said to me? I kicked a speaker, maybe I had heard him wrong.

"Do you understand me?"

Slap, slap went my feet along the hall as I ran from door to door looking for the right one. I hurried down the hall, sliding to a stop in front of "laughter" knowing it was not what I sought and continuing my scurry past "joy" and "imagination". Finally I came to the place, the door always ajar, leaking a dismal feeling, a sensation that rankled the nerves, into the hall. I flung the door wide and barreled in, falling over the threshold into red, hot, blinding, sweet fury.

The insides of my jacket were gummy with blood. I would have to burn it, another jacket this season. No doubt my mother would ask me if I ate my coats, threatening to let me freeze this winter. I shook it off my body and turned to the task of washing myself clean of his fluids. All of his fluids. Every one that I had taken from him when I cavorted in that last place. I wanted nothing more than to enter into the blue calm of sleep, the other-space, but I had a job due before I could allow myself rest. Now clean, I began to break the utility blade down carefully. Carefully because it became enraged when snapped, sometimes jumping to wreck the skin of the one that assaulted it. I should know. I bore the scar on my chin from a blade broken long ago, a blade who became incensed at my actions. This one went quietly. I suppose it knew where I had been and why it must now go. I dropped the pieces into the almost empty can of paint which would be disposed at my mother's leisure. After watching them sink into the viscous ooze at the can's bottom, I returned the lid to the can and pressed it down firmly.

Gaining my bed, I shifted for comfort, the covers tangling between my legs. Finally from the non-space came the answer that flew down the hall and fell almost silently from my lips.

"Yes, I understand. I am not your girl."

written circa 1994
- going through that box o papers

Power Moves

2006-11-04T12:08:00.000-05:00

She was sleeping when the match began. Not that almost asleep feint that women used to deter men during the night. It was good, honest sleep. They had tussled and wrestled throughout the night. She thought she was firm in her belief that she did not want to touch him. He was definitely solid in the knowledge that he didn't give a damn what she believed. So it went. He would make an attempt and she would rebuff him all the while wondering if she should throw caution to the wind. Finally he thought she was serious and he let her be. Besides, now he was tired also. They both drifted off to sleep.

Early morning light filtered through the window. He looked over at her prone body lying half-nude and spread out next to him. He decided that since she so obviously could not make up her mind, he would have to do it for her. As usual, her mouth was saying one thing while her body told a different story. He rolled over onto her and in one swift, almost practiced motion, drew her thong to the side and drove into her. She gasped then moaned half in pleasure, half in shock.

He was calm while she put up her half-hearted struggle. There was really no where to go and he had a firm grip on her waist as he continued to thrust. She scrambled across the bed repeatedly, her mind spinning. Her body wanted to stay where it was, her mind fuzzy slightly angry but clouded by the tide rising caused by his movements behind her. Finally she gave in, resistance was futile, especially since she didn't really want to resist. Sensing her resignation, he relaxed into rhythm pulling her body up to meet his until she was almost squatting on him. She wasn't being very helpful and seemed determined to make him do all the work. He snorted silently and figured if that was the way she wanted to handle things, fine, he would oblige and get the work done... his way.

He reached around her squatting form and grabbed her legs just below her knees. He drew her knees to her chest until her back was flush against his chest and she was pinned against him. He lifted her free of the bed and began to bounce her against his body. Caught and immobilized she could do nothing but scream. She called out to god, her mother and the words "oh shit" were repeated until he was good and done and she was well and finished. By then she simply could think no more and was content to just lay where she was panting.

- Fin (that's all I got about that... )

P.S. I heard tell this was a true story. If it is, that dude is not playing. The sheer mechanics has got to be mind blowing. Y'all other motherfuckers better step up your dick game, he's gunning for y'all women.
P.P.S. Take notes...

Quickie

2006-11-02T09:41:00.001-05:00

There's a lesson I have learned that I'd like to share: there's only room on our backs for our bags. It is not our job to carry other people's shit and it's ok to say no.
That no thing is really tricky. I have found that in friendship, people tend to feel entitled to many things. This false sense of entitlement can lead to severe miscommunication and hard feelings.
For example:
Adam needs to borrow something from Beth. Beth doesn't really want to lend Adam the item. Beth makes all sorts of excuses as to why Adam should try to use something or ask someone else. Adam has a riposte for every excuse. Eventually Adam wears Beth down and she gives him the item. Days pass, Beth becomes increasingly aggravated because Adam has her shit. She begins to cuss Adam soundly, in the corner of her mind. She becomes snippy with Adam. Adam, as most men usually are, is thoroughly confused. He asks her what's wrong repeatedly to which, as most women will, Beth replies with a cryptic "nothing". Adam knows she's full of horse pucky and continues to ask what the hell her disease is until one day Beth bursts out in a fit of fury and screams "I just want my friggin wangdangdingdoodle back." Adam is all "wtf?!" and Beth is all "I didn't want to give it to you in the first place!" and Adam is all "well why the fuck didn't you just say so?" and Beth is all "cause you're my friend," and Adam is all "that's the dumbest shit I've heard all day..." and Beth is all "shut up!" Now Adam and Beth are a tad miffed at each other .
It could have all been avoided if Beth had just said no. That's one part of being a friend, being strong and honest enough to just say no. It's your shit, you can decline as you wish and here's the best part: you don't owe anyone an explanation. If you don't want to give one, don't. Think of it this way, you don't explain to anyone why you won't just lick random body parts, it's your tongue, you do what you want with it. Same thing with favors, you don't have to do 'em.
Another part of being a friend is accepting a no without resentment. You ask for a favor and your friend says no, take that no in stride and find some other way to handle your business. Your friend is not your moms. They don't owe you their friendship or their favors. If you ask for something that you can't have, don't get all salty. It's their shit/time and not yours. It's not even for you to ask why. Like the song says, it's their prerogative (see, Bobby's good for something, god bless his forever tweakin n geekin self).

I was just on the phone with my boy who I asked to borrow something. He asked me why. I explained why (gotta answer the holder of the item when one is the beg-ee). He started giving me reasons why I should just use what I had. I did an Adam for half a second before I realized what was going down and said, "dude, just say no. It's ok. It's your shit." So he said no and the conversation kept moving. See how easy that was?

Now I'm doing the favor of sharing the knowledge with you.
Take it or shove it.

- deciding between the hoody and the scoop-neck