Final words by Angie Sánchez The reason for writing this was not so that the reader feels pity for me and my situation. I did it so that people will try and understand me and those in my situation. I just want a piece of…
Lately I’ve fallen into the routine of putting my alarm clock on the radio setting.
Instead of the usual hellish bleat (a suitable warning for nuclear attack or biohazard breach), I am treated to the susurrations of those crazed liberals over at NPR.
You know the bunch I’m talking about. They can’t wait for the second Obama term so they can take to the streets singing “La Marseillaise” and start chopping the heads off Real Americans.
Liberalism leads to socialism, communism and, finally, soccer. Then Satan appears on the pitch and all kinds of gnarly CGI is unleashed. Yep. That’s how it all goes down.
I’m in a bad mood. I intended to write about music and death today, but the Chicago media has left me feeling homicidal thoughts toward it. Short of carrying out a physical assault, I am left with little recourse. Now before I offend anyone who…
By Angie Sánchez The hardest part about my experience is having to sit in classrooms with students who are ignorant about immigrants, immigration, minorities, etc. We have discussed these issues in many of my classes and the reaction and comments from students are sometimes so…
Picture this: A pair of jump-boots, spray-painted silver, tied together by the laces and tossed up to a power-line umbilicaled to my barracks. Short-timer! After my honorable discharge, my DD-214 in hand, I walked outside the out-processing barracks and whooped and spun my class A…
This is my first post from the newly improved Executive Cowboy Lounge, high atop Coburn Mountain, Alabama.
It is raining, with thunder and lightning. The PC should not even be plugged in. I’ve already lost one hard drive to lightning. (Did I learn my lesson the last time I lost all my data? Do I now take great pains to back everything up? Nope. I’m what mental-health professionals and ex-girlfriends refer to as an idiot. Shoe. Foot. Shoe on foot.)
But this week has been a real doozey, as we say in polite company, and the deadline looms. Yes, I take risks. Because I care, gentle readers. I’m afraid if I don’t show up on time every week, all six of you will forget about me. And, shoot, I’m sworn to fun.
Hi, folks, This poem is the recent work of poet, independent mystic and all-around seeker: Meslos D. Soreno, a person I have known forever but who I have just recently met. I hope to see more contributions from him in the future. Jimmy The Unknown…
By Angie Sánchez Although I was in good academic standing and my dad did not and still does not make enough money financial aid was not available. This is sad because I really wanted to become a successful and productive member of society yet I…
It’s Leap Day, so I better get crackin’ on this stuff. You don’t often get a chance to write a blog post on Leap Day.
Don’t let that train pass you by, friend, or one day you’ll find yourself all alone in a cheap room, toothless, with pee stains on your underwear. Wishing you had written that Leap Day post.
But it will be too late.
And no one can bear that kind of sadness.
See, February 29 only comes around once every four–
Ladies! Gentlemen! Put away your revolvers! Just kidding!
Okay, Leap Day? Leap Year? Bor-ing! Leaping is okay, though.
I’ve done a lot of leaping in my time. I leap whenever I feel like it. Hardly a day goes by when I am not required to leap over Bob Johnson.
(Shot of snoozing Bob Johnson with title: Canis americanus.)
Apparently I now like “world music.” I’ve spent a lifetime avoiding it — mainly because its fans. You know the type. They talk in hushed tones and sip vintage cabs. Only slightly more adventurous than the average blues aficionado. My tastes, on the other hand, range…
- As a young artist, I found infinite fascination in the other-worldly insects, ever-present flocks of birds, and dancing flowers in my parents’ garden. Today, I’ve returned to that golden place to reunite with my earliest fascinations, and to marvel at the unfolding possibilities of the flowers.
Growing up and leaving the garden, I found new inspiration in the discord of punk rock bands, the thrill of the circus, and the adventure of children’s stories. But as the range of my subjects grows, my passion for the garden shines through each canvas with growing warmth, like spring’s first crocus pushing through a layer of snow.
By Angie Sánchez
The education I received at the community college was great. The advisors and instructors were also phenomenal. Attending that college opened my eyes I learned many new things. I was also very proud of myself because I was enrolled in course with students that were not in mediocre level classes like I was in high school. In fact, some of the students were members of the National Honor Society. My grades in college were better than the ones in high school even though the work was more challenging. I was also working at the same time and it was challenging because I was working an average of 32 hours a week but I managed. I met a lot of cool people during my time there and I’m glad for that. I’m especially thankful for my advisor. She provided me with information that I had never been exposed to before. She provided the guidance that I needed and assistance that I needed.