A Week in the Life of Gustavo

"Seems to think that if he fails to write, la migra will find him."--OC Weekly More merriment available at ronmaydon@yahoo.com

segunda-feira, março 22, 2004

This is the End...

After little consideration, I have decided to end this infernal blog.

I've been writing in this website for over two years now--started right after 9/11. It carried me through two uncaring girlfriends, countless viragos for dates, and into a new career. Even though I posted the good with the bad, I've found that in retrospect, I posted only because I was uncomfortable with my life--not fully content with where my realities rested.

But now I'm content. Am I rash to declare victory against the tyranny of depression based on a woman I've officially seen for only about three months? Possibly. But I cannae deny the impact she's made on my life, the sheer relaxation she's introduced to someone who still is Alvy Singer-y nervous. I no longer feel a need to vent in these pages, maybe because I rarely vent, period (outside of the Rag, in which I'll cry 'til the day I die).

Still want to learn more about me? If we don't already carry a continuous correspondence, then you're obviously not so important to me. I hate to sound so crass and cold, but it's true. If you don't have my personal email (not the one above, but the OTHER one), then I don't know you. However, I always answer my email. And strangers: if you come across this site looking for that beaner Gustavo Arellano, you've found him! Send me an email.

Do not consider this infernal blog dead--more like comatose. Here's to hoping this coma lasts forever.

terça-feira, março 16, 2004

Chorro de Voz...

Let's see if I can have a stream of consciousness run here writing about whatever pops into my mind--no, I'm not soused in any way (although I did have more wine yesterday than I should've drank) but I need to fill something in this infernal blog in order to keep readers enticed in this Modern Age of me not disclosing the most personal aspects of my life here, even if it's in code and I give the protagonists pseudonyms in order to protect their identities. Case in point--I offered to write something on someone who is in a precarious situation, and they adamently refused even when I made the convincing argument that their story would be killer. This is enough for now, but I thank all of you readers for continuing to read this infernal blog. Any suggestions as to what I can write about here now that I'm rarely going to be writing about meself?

quarta-feira, março 10, 2004

I'm just about ready to finish this infernal blog--just nothing to report other than Rotten.com history. Oh, there's things happening in my life, but I have to protect the identity of the person--now that's a first. Besides, if you really want to know what's going on with my life, you'll send me an email or pick up a copy of the Rag. Better yet, check out a blog collective I now write for called the Freelance Mentalists. Started by fellow music hack Matt Cibula. So here's some history...

Mar 10 1948
Czech foreign minister Jan Masaryk thrown from a window at his apartment in Prague under mysterious circumstances. His death was ruled "suicide" and later by the communists, to have "fallen accidently while sitting in a yoga position on a window sill to combat insomnia". But most likely he was suffocated first, judging from the fact that he had lost control of his bowels.

Mar 9 1170
In Essex, a UFO is spotted over St. Ostwyth, manifesting itself as a "wonderfully large dragon ... borne up from the Earth through the air". The craft kindled the air and destroyed a house.

Mar 8 1968


A Soviet submarine sinks in the Pacific Ocean, killing all 97 crewmembers aboard. Later in the year a U.S. submarine secretly retrieves an encryption machine, codebooks, and nuclear warheads from the Soviet vessel. A further bold attempt is made in 1974 to bring up the entire submarine using the CIA ship Glomar Explorer, built by Howard Hughes. That mission supposedly fails, and is made public by the Los Angeles Times to the great embarrassment of the Agency.

Mar 8 1998

In Ladson, South Carolina, Daniel Rudolph -- brother of Olympic Games bombing and abortion clinic bombing suspect Eric Rudolph (a fugitive) -- videotapes himself severing his own hand with a power saw in order to "send a message to the FBI and the media". Mmmm, inbreeding?

segunda-feira, março 08, 2004

sábado, março 06, 2004

Gabriel Garcia Marquez said this:

Those of us who are born journalists discover early in our lives, and often against our will, that our craft is not just a calling, a fate, a need or a job. It's something we can't avoid: It is a vice among friends.

Amen to that.

quinta-feira, março 04, 2004

Guantanamera...

Saw the film with You Know Who (that is the name of the apple of my eye). Good, a bit magical realism. Ate banh mi at Banh Mi Cho Cu--Lee's Sandwiches is fine, but support your local produce store.

For those of you Googling me to try to figure out if I'm worthy of You Know Who...I am! In all honesty, I appreciate your concern and totally understand. Feel free to peruse the archives at right and if you have any questions, email me at the address above. I promise I'm one of the good guys.

quarta-feira, março 03, 2004

Wacked-Out Firecrackers...

Might as well write being that many of you still read this infernal blog, but what can I write about?

Rather, what can't I write about? (I'm remembering a quote that Lionel Hutz once said: "Not only is my client not guilty, he's also guilty of not being guilty." His malapropisms were the stuff of legend)

I'll say this much--most of my free time is now spent with a wonderful woman. Unlike relationships past, though, I shan't reveal a word. If you REALLY want to know, say hi to us at a concert or something. So there.

Work is fine, as always. For Lent, instead of giving up something, I'm forcing myself to run three miles every day. I asked my personal theologian whether such a self-serving act could possibly qualify as penance, and he affirmed my sacrifice, saying sometimes the biggest sacrifices are not those you give up, but those you assume. Much like the cross.

I've yet to see The Passion--sorry, but the strength in my Jesus wasn't in how much whipping he could bear but rather His message of reforming the world via humility. And with that, I now go to sleep--but first, some Rotten.com history!
**
Mar 3 1863
The National Conscription Act is signed, forcing all men between 20 and 45 years of age into the draft lotteries. Except for rich bastards, who could buy their way out for $300, or hire another man to serve in his place. The inevitable result is the weeklong New York Draft Riots.

Mar 3 1931

An English beer drinking song becomes the National Anthem of the United States.

Mar 3 1967

The Berkeley Barb reports that banana peels can make you high. Apparently lots of people can be fooled into thinking that the resulting "bananadine" extract is a hallucinogenic Mellow Yellow.

Mar 2 1968

Syd Barrett leaves Pink Floyd, after melting his mind with various extremely dangerous drugs. He spends the following years mumbling about pork chops and refrigerators.

Mar 1 1815
Jesse Sharpless is convicted in Pennsylvania of exhibiting a "certain lewd, wicked, scandalous, infamous and obscene painting, representing a man in an obscene, impudent and indecent posture with a woman" in his own house. It is the first obscenity trial in the United States.

Mar 1 1978

The body of Charlie Chaplin is stolen for ransom by Galtcho Ganav (Bulgaria) and Romnan Wardas (Poland) from a cemetery in Corsier, Switzerland. The actor's corpse is recovered two months later.