I drank until 4 in the morning this Saturday because I knew as soon as I stopped I would pass out and it would be Sunday. I treat the end of Saturday night the way I think most people mourn the death of a child that had a congenitive heart defect. You know it's going to end, but you cherish every moment of it and are devastated when it's over. Ok so perhaps the end of a weekend isn't as bad as the tragic death of a child. The death of a child is way worse. But fortunately most families have more than one child, and there's always another weekend. So that's a positive right?
So when I woke up at 11am all normal protestant Easter services were over in the greater Venice/Santa Monica area, Baptist services notwithstanding. Legit, if you are in Venice there are 5 Baptist churches within 100 feet of you at all times. But I definitely didn't want to go to one of those. Black people dress UP when they go to church. We are talking suits and shit. Plus their shit goes for like 3 hours and the old black women like scream and all that gospel choir shit...not for me. Granted it may have gotten me some clout with the homeys on the block but I also didn't want to offend them by rolling out of bed in what I wore out the night before.
This left me with only one option. The 12pm spanish language service at the Catholic church.
Bingo.
Catholic services are short and there is only one time you are forced to interact with others. Learn how to say "peace be with you" in Spanish and I'm good. Also if I piss off some Mexican gangbangers who gives a shit Mexican gangsters aren't scary only black guys. (Ya I saw End of Watch, if you really want me to fear the Latin Kings don't cast Ugly Betty as the antagonist)
I swear to God I get there and there is a fucking mariachi band playing contemporary Spanish hymns. I was totally digging it. Sure I looked out of place being the only white person there (and wearing a sweater vest) but no one gave a shit. It was all pregnant 18 year olds, their screaming newborns and their tatted up factory worker husbands sauntering in 20 minutes late. People wearing ripped up jeans, oversized tshirts and backwards flatbills, it was such a beautiful justification of every stereotype I have. Seriously, you want a judgment free zone, go find a Mexican church. These people are the chillest of all the church going folk.
I tried to convince myself that people listened to the latin services for years without knowing what the fuck the priest was talking about so it was cool, but like come on I know the story of Easter, I just need to take this communion so I can keep my Chreaster streak alive and bail to my dinner party.
It might intrigue you that I write this blog laced with high brow vulgarity but still make such an effort to make it to church on Easter. I'm kinda banking on being that bad guy next to J man on the cross who was like "Hey man, I'm was a thief but I believe in you" and that dude totally got a VIP pass into heaven.
Ok enough religion that shit makes me as uncomfortable as a guy sharing a heroin needle with a gay prostitute he just met in West Hollywood. How about some light site news?
Cool.
As you've noticed I have started making short one minute videos, they are usually me ranting to a certain extent about some Sophomoric qualm about growing up. I do this because people are too lazy to read, but it's also a nice change of pace. I am going to absorb those into the blog, I am also going to make a Facebook fan page where you will be able to find links to all the videos and the actual blogs. Maybe some pictures and shit too.
Basically I am trying to streamline your SingleDude experience.
I'll try to be more active and if anyone has any suggestions please let me know.
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