Fonso Blogs About Nothing

Writers write...well, not really.

2009-07-01T18:29:00.009-05:00

Painters paint. Actors act. Ballers ball. Pitchers pitch. Businessmen business. Doers do.

You would think Writers Write. Bull and shit!

There is a phenomenon unique to many of those who consider themselves, A Writer. It’s something I’ve tried hard to understand in the few cases where I’ve heard it mentioned. Some of you have maybe even seen it if you have a writer friend.

You know the drill. They look wistfully(so, so full of wist), into the distant horizon, body stiff and eyes squinted for full effect, then they say it.

“I’m thinking of traveling the country for a while. You know, see America. Maybe even Europe. I think it’ll help my writing and my soul.”

Nigga please collect your “Nigga, Please!” Award.

Is there something I don’t know? Are the spirits of Kerouac, Hunter S. Thompson, Steinbeck and Salinger waiting at what will undoubtedly be a pre-arranged, google mapped destination? Will they present an enchanted quill and parchment that will render the wielder the heir to their literary throne? I mean, if so, sign me up. But somehow I doubt it.

I’m understanding that the search for experience would lead one to traverse the world in search of something new and previously unseen. I also recall however, the myriad of books a writer reads(writers read A LOT of books) all detailing this one simple step…Writers Are Supposed to Write. Getting bogged down in research and study leads to lots of researching and studying, and not enough writing.

I’m practically Prime Example A. I may have never wanted to walk through Mexico, but I once spent two weeks researching submarines when I wanted to write a script based on a haunted sub. By the time I was done, I was all subbed out and didn’t care anymore. Alas, the world will never watch “Das Boo!” on the silver screen.

Even this blog is something I started up so as to get back into the rhythm of "real writing." So far, I'm enjoying it so much, I don't even think about putting together an idea for a script. I think this goes for a lot of my peers as well.

The day I hear Kobe Bryant mention that he improved his defense by backpacking across Europe is the day I will take this all back. Until then, I will continue to be mystified by this puzzling move many of my brethren make and take.

Rock-Fucking-Bottom

2009-06-29T22:00:00.005-05:00

Dear Dina Lohan,

What have you done?

We don't know each other, but at one point in time I was your future son-in-law. No, I'm not talking about Ali, because hardly anyone knows who Ali is. That's despite all of our best efforts. I'm talking about the woman who, at one point or another, was the absolute jewel of my nile, the diamond in my rough, the grand in my slam, Lindsay Lohan. What you've allowed her to turn into is a prime example of what can go wrong when young(and she started out young) people with talent go unchecked.

I know what you're saying, and you've said before, "My daughter is an amazing talent and people cannot recognize it blahblahblahblah." Truth is, Lindsay WAS an amazing talent. Circa 2005. The last few years have been an INCREDIBLE drop to the bottom of the fucking barrel. This isn't even about her turning Lazbeen.

It's about this...

turning into this...

-Photo borrowed from Perez Hilton's site. Check it out, not totally gay, and pretty awesome.

HOW ON EARTH DOES THIS HAPPEN???

I'll tell you how this happens. It's called Enabling. And you, Dina, are the Queen Mother of Enablers. You've allowed your daughter to run around unchecked for years, on the basis of her being the family's breadwinner and your claim to fame. Do you understand that in order for all of that to continue, she must be able to work???

That aint happenin when she looks like an ad speaking out against Crystal Meth! I know I'm just a super small time blogger venting my frustrations and you'll never ever read this, but be aware at this moment that when your daughter dies and the bread stops rolling out, you'll have no one to blame but yourself.

Rot in hell you worthless bitch.

I'm Done Being A Hater

2009-06-29T18:30:00.013-05:00

Yep, that’s right! As of June 29th, two thousand aught nine, Alfonso Farfan(your gracious host!) is done being a pre-hater. Urban Dictionary defines a hater as “A person that simply cannot be happy for another person’s success. So rather than be happy they make a point of exposing a flaw in that person.” Now, I don’t hate on people and their success, cause that’s gay, but I do tend to hate on things before giving them a chance.                      Things like Grand Theft Auto 4, and the series in general. Things like soccer as a valid sport. And hockey for that matter. Sometimes, very rarely, I will hate on a person, not for their success, but because everyone jumps on their nuts so early.

Before this past weekend, I was the main individual labeling the Grand Theft Auto series as a “murder simulator” rather than a video game. OH! Yes, I was the original coiner of that term around 2003, fuck the bullshit lies Fox News tries to tell you. Well, this past Friday, having decided I needed a Chill

Weekend after my trip to Vegas and a scheduled trip to Kentucky for the 4^th of July, I gave Grand Theft Auto 4’s story mode a try.

People, My World is Rocked!

I’m a big fan of storytelling in video games. I’ve been known to cheat code my way through games in order to take in the story with none of the challenge. I’m looking at you Final Fantasy’s VII and IX. I’m happy to say that, folks, this game is unsurpassed in this ever so important department. Niko Belic’s struggle to survive and thrive in America is on par with rags to riches stories like The Godfather’s 1 and 2(What do you mean there’s a 3?) and Goodfellas. Niko’s dealing with characters such as his cousin Roman(don’t we all have a cousin Roman?), a dreamer with a penchant for exaggeration, Manny Escuela, a reformed gang member trying to clean The Streets(!!!) while not shying away from the fame it brings and a whole slew of Russian mobsters. This was pretty much my weekend. I don’t recall leaving my room or taking a shower. That’s gotta mean I like it

When she first burst on the scene in Transformers about two years, the collective tangle of Mandom across the United States busted a collective nut over the black haired vixen known as Megan Fox. Well, everyone except This Guy. I didn’t see it. Or maybe I refused to see it. Or maybe I refused to see it based on everyone else’s glee at having our generations Pamela Anderson. Her face kinda had a Down Syndrome thing going on. The most credit I gave her was that maybe she was the world’s most attractive sufferer of Downs.

Then I saw that picture up there. Look at the boob to waist ratio! Michamalangelo couldn’t carve that out of stone. It’s nuts! And her side tattoo thingy? I bust. I’ve seen her in pictures wearing sweatpants in my ensuing google image searches and she still looks amazing. Credit to you, Miss Fox. You are hawt.

It’s kind of funny when you think about it. Fans of American football decry the sport of soccer, futbol to the the Spanish speaking world, as a slow sport where nothing happens for long stretches of time. After watching this weekend’s USA versus Brazil matchup, which featured Brazil coming back from down 2-0 to win 3-2, I’m left wondering if it’s not the exact opposite. By no means am I a “fan” of soccer at this point. I’m in that group who find the game to move too slow between moments of exciting goals and near goals thwarted by cool goalie saves. BUT! The game does move at a constant pace, unlike American football, with our timeouts and first down marker checks. USA versus Brazil featured a USA goal in the first ten minutes of the first half, a shocking speed from what I’ve told. This was one-upped by Brazil scoring in the FIRST MINUTE OF THE SECOND HALF. That’s like, hyper speed I think. Five total goals as opposed to the 1-Nil joke of a score that’s often reported made for a fun game to watch. I’m not ready to go out and buy a Cristiano Ronaldo jersey just yet, but a few more fast paced games with scores of five or more, and I just may care about the World Cup being next year.

Hockey I’ve actually kept a passing interest in over the years. Thankfully, the Blackhawks now have an ownership in place that is looking to make the team relevant once more within its own home base. For too long the team was only viewable within the confines of the United Center walls. Now that I can watch a game from the comfort of my home, decked out in nothing but draws and a spaghetti stained white tee, my interest is back to about 70%. Another playoff appearance next year and I should be full go.

What I’ve unsuccessfully tried to get across here is that it’s not okay to judge a book by its cover, preview images or exploitation in the press. Just because something is popular does not mean you’ll look cool for trying to look too cool to care. We are not Too Cool Chris. Unless you’re actually Too Cool Chris. Then you’re too cool for everything I’ve been talking about.

Stay thirsty my friends.

La-Hoo Sa-Hers

2009-06-24T18:31:00.005-05:00

Today's blog comes in the form of a very special Public Service Announcement. I'm here to warn you about an unseen danger in your life. I'm here to talk about Losers. Specifically, I'm here to talk about the loser friends your kids may have. Pay attention!

Now I know that the three of you who read this blog likely don't have any kids, but one day you will and this is timeless information. Like Lord of the Rings. So let this serve as your warning that one day your son or daughter may make friends with someone they consider a lovable scamp who is really a down in the dumps Loser with a capital virgin. This will be that friend of theirs who, rather than smoke drugs and hang out at the mall like all good teenagers, will opt to hang out in an online fantasy land of avatars, racism and child pornography. Maybe not the child pornography, but you can never be too sure!

Don't let this happen to your kids. It's imperative that your children are made aware of the inevitability that teenage losers grow up to be Adult Losers. These are the mid-20's losers who prefer to build up their Xbox Live friend base over their Drunk Girl Felt Up at the Bar base. I know, it's shocking to hear!

But it's true, so keep an eye out for their "Precious" or Green Lantern Ring tshirts. You'll know them when you see them.

Now your child may cry and say "Oh, Billy's just shy around girls!" Well let me tell you this, I've seen Shy at 16 turn into Shy at 21 which turns into Shy at 26 which turns into ending up on a national database registry for Sexual Assault of a Minor. The next thing you know their face is more famous in their home county than Brad Pitt's. Say cheese, you're a rapist! Not a very fun picture if you ask me!

"But then who am I supposed to hang out with?" This is a question you're likely to hear. You bend down, you look your child in the eye and you tell them that it's better to be the weakest link in the strongest chain than the strongest link in a circle jerk on a Saturday night when you're 25. No one wants to eat that biscuit.

And that's just my two cents.

2009-06-23T06:34:00.003-05:00

Yesterday, as I was plodding along on my way home, stuck in the same traffic I've become accustomed to over the last month and a half or so, I was listening to ESPN radio's afternoon show. One of the guest hosts(the regular guys were at a charity golf benefit) mentioned something that struck a nerve. Somehow, this gent had found it within himself to refer to Phil Mickelson as one of the "megastars" of golf. Almost immediately(I'll explain the almost), I thought, "Mickelson? A megastar?" NOPE. Tiger is golf's only megastar.

The reason it was "almost immediately" is that at the exact moment those words were utterd, and for reasons unknown to me, I was thinking of Tom Brady, one of the NFL's THREE Megastars. Again, I don't know why I had Tom Brady in my head, but then again, don't all guys think at some point, "Fuck...I wanna be Tom Brady?" But there he was, a defined Megastar.

For the record, dictionary.com defines a Megastar as someone who is Very Famous. So I ask you, who sounds more like a Megastar, Phil Mickelson? Or Tom Brady?

Anyway, since I still had about a twenty minute drive ahead of me, and then the rest of the day, I got to thinking about the Megastars of sports. Here's what I figured, in order of the popularity of the sport. Number one might cause a stir.

Soccer

Cristiano Ronaldo - Most of us don't know a thing about him, but he's the most popular player in the most popular sport on earth. His contract rights were just "traded" to Real Madrid for about ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY MILLION EUROS. Understand, that's only what it cost to buy the right to sign him to a deal. Real Madrid still has to sign him to a deal. That's like the Knicks telling the Cavs, "We'll give you $182,000,000 to release Lebron so only we can sign him." SICK. People thought it was a big deal when the Red Sox struck a similar deal for Daisuke Matsusaka for the comparative bargain of $52,000,000. That's Megastar.

David Beckham - Hispanic and white dudes between the ages of 15-30 aren't rocking fauxhawks by accident.

NFL

Tom Brady and Peyton Manning - I have done no research and have no evidence to back this up, but I guarantee that in the past five to seven years the NFL has seen an influx of "new" fans awaken to the sport based on the drama provided by the rivalry between these two All-Time quarterbacks and their respective teams. These guys are better at throwing a football properly and at the right time than I'll ever be at anything. They're smarter, faster, stronger, cooler and handsomer(I guess) than us mere mortal men, and we love them for it. Brady's married to a supermodel and Peyton is the best accidental advertising phenom in history. Megastars!

Brett Favre - Huge Bears fan. Hate the pack. But come on, the guy is a beast.

NBA

I don't even have to name them. You know them. Your girlfriend wants to fuck them and has probably told you so just in case it ever happens for her. One of the them walked out of a playoff loss in a childlike temper tantrum and the other was ONCE ACCUSED OF RAPE. And it doesn't even matter. Your kids want to be them. Mega to the fuckin stars.

MLB

A-Rod - Major League Baseball's only Megastar and it's for all the wrong reasons. The greediest contract in sports history. Kissing his reflection in a mirror. The photos of him wiping his mouth with $100 bills. Flip-flopping between being American and being Dominican. Steroids. Madonna. That hooker in Canada. Give me your life, PLEASE!

Honorable Mentions

KaKa - Ronaldo's new teammate has been called the most complete Brazilian soccer player of this era. His contract rights were recently acquired for the "paltry" sum of 94,000,000 Euros. Doing all of that while your name is spanish babytalk for DOOKIE is no easy feat.

Ichiro and Yao Ming - Megastars of the Pacific Rim, but playing in stupid cities does not help them here.

Sidney Crosby and Alex Ovechkin - The Prince and The Rebel of the NHL. Give it a few years.

Georges St. Pierre - As MMA continues to grow in the next few years, GSP's face will be that which we most recognize during its development. He's been billed as "The Complete Fighter." I don't even know what that means.

Alfonso Farfan - Ghost Ridin the Whip has NEVER had a better global ambassador.

8======D

The Brief Wondrous Novel by Junot Diaz

2009-06-22T21:01:00.009-05:00

Before I get on with my "review" of The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, a book worthy of WAY more attention than it's received, I want to send a clear message to it's "author," Junot Diaz.

Mr. Diaz, I say this with all respect but also with all honesty and intensity I'm capable of mustering. If you ever, and I mean EVER follow me around without my knowledge for 10 or so years again, I will do horrible things to you and your family. Things that will make the regime of El Jefe Trujillo pale in comparison.

That is all.

Okay...I LOVE this book. I'm talking about complete adoration. It's easily placed itself alongside 1984 in the bookcase of my mind(Pretty good, huh? No one steal that!). I was actually in Las Vegas about five days ago when I started reading this book. Flush out of my daily allotment of gambling/boozin/whoring money, I was stuck in my hotel suite at about 11pm Las Vegas local time. Not the best place in the world to be.

Desperate for something to waste away the hours until the pointless 5 Hour Energy wore off, I picked the book up and told myself it had twenty pages to impress me before I chalked it up another one of Kevin and Les'(get used to their names) recommendations. Well holy hell, I was locked in at page eighteen when our main character goes from being a pimptastic, charismatic prepubescent to an awkward, shy, overweight nerd.

Set against the backdrop of the Trujillo Regime, a dictatorship that lasted over thirty years and rivaled that of Idi Amin, Pol Pot and Emperor Palpatine, over the next four hours, I was treated to the history of the Cabral family, the Dominican Republic's most ill-fated of ill-fated families. We're talking the exact opposite of the Corleone's, Skywalker's and Hilton's here. Shit SUCKED for these people. From family patriarch Abelard to his third and final daughter Hypatia all the way down to fat, unpulchritudous Oscar, bad ending after bad ending was heaped upon them. I'm man enough to admit I cried a little bit.

This is where I get conflicted though. Two of the main characters are completely unlikable. Hell, the main character is a shitty human being! Maybe it's the self reflection, who knows, but I couldn't stand his outright refusal to try and make things better for himself. And his mother, oof! What a cabrona. A life of going through SHIT made this woman the hardest puta to ever live in Jersey. Save maybe Janice Soprano.

I cannot figure out for the life of me why I so thoroughly enjoyed a book which is two-thirds comprised of characters I so despise. Good writing, I guess.

I mentioned earlier this book is deserving of much more credit and attention than it's received. I say that because I consider myself the definition of Pop Culture America. I like fun, upbeat music that plays on the radio more than I'll ever like hipster-hop or whatever bullshit Jack White is pimping out nowadays. I like tv shows like Lost and Family Guy but don't even know what channel PBS is. I'm getting to a point here, I promise. The fact this book wasn't mainstream enough for me to have heard about it, with all of my tv watching and internet browsing is kind of preposterous. In a mirror of the brutal dictatorship at the books core, I can't help but wonder if the main characters(victims) in this book had been black if there wouldn't have been more attention paid to it. Where are the Dominican celebrities(I'm looking at you A-Rod) who should be on tv getting the word out on their nations history? You think Jesse White would have kept his mouth shut? Fuck no! I would think the little sticker that reads "Winner of the Pulitzer Prize" on the front would have helped, but I guessn ot. Where you at, Oprah? Cristina aint enough for this book!

Fuck! Read this shit!

P.S. I just found this picture of an alternate cover to the book. That kid almost broke me in two.

Speak Friend, and Enter.

2009-06-22T20:44:00.010-05:00

Mellon!

Welcome to the inaugural, and hopefully not the last, Fonso Blogs About Nothing blog. It's a blog. A blog about...well, nothing. But hopefully about a lot of things! Strong emphasis on the "hopefully" part. I know that starting a blog in this day and age of our glorious Internet is nothing new, so for now, I'm not aiming very high. As a matter of fact, I had to look up exactly what a blog is SUPPOSED to be.

After an arduous five minute search, I was led to the conclusion that the Internet had nothing to to tell me about blogs. Thanks for nothing, Internet!

How-e-ver, I did recall that many of the blogs I browse were About Something. Whether it's someone setting a goal and allowing the anonymous of the internet in on their personal journey, delivering news in an offbeat manner, ridiculing the famous and megafamous or trying to get across their personal agenda, they're all About Something.

I don't want any of that.

I don't want to be a voice. I don't want to influence any decision anyone will ever make. I barely want to be enjoyed.

I want this to be pointless. Load it. Read it. Leave it. Kind of like a blog booty call.

Now I'm neither naive nor egotistical enough to believe I'll be the first, last or three millionth "blog about nothing." What I do know is I'll be the first to incorporate speleing and grammatical errors, references to black girls with white features and cuss words. Lots of sweet, sweet cuss words.

What do you mean I'm not the first to do that, either???

Shit!!! Fuck!!! Ass!!!

See???

With that said, let's get on with this farce.