Tag Archives: Family

Five Years Of Reminiscence

Posted by Peter Teixeira on

     Some of you may have noticed the number seven followed a date, at the end of yesterday’s post. The dedication was for my deceased cousin, Kevin, who died on the same date, five years ago; 12/8/06. To read about his tragic accident click the link: Kevin Fidalgo. (Here is the link to the other article:http://www.wickedlocal.com/cambridge/local_news/x1785630283#axzz1g157B4nY)

No one knows what actually happens after death, but there is one certainty; the person continues to live inside of the memories of others. I am an atheist and I highly doubt there is an afterlife, but I hope I am wrong; it would be nice to experience another realm. (For my thoughts on the afterlife, read my post: Where Are All The Dead People, My Conversation With Kevin, Unconventional Endings¸ and Are Ghosts Real.)

Traditionally, I visit my cousin’s grave at least twice a year; once on December 8th and once on June 23rd, his birthday. Since his accident, I spoke with Kevin on a nightly basis; always asking for him to watch over us. This year, once I became an atheist, the routine changed. I no longer wasted my time praying to the dead and a nonexistent “god.” I decided to keep Kevin in my memories and do my best to carry on his passion for living. Although he is dead, he is always with us, because we talk about him, constantly.

I decided to drive to the cemetery, yesterday. When I arrived, the area was empty. There was no eerie feeling or unexplained occurrences. I stepped out of the car and I felt a tad bit silly. I walked to his grave and simply observed. Part of me wanted to have a life changing experience, but I honestly felt like I was looking at a piece of superbly carved stone; nothing more. I didn’t feel the need to talk to Kevin, since he is dead and can’t hear me, so I decided to walk around and I visited the graves of other family members. My journey to the mysterious portal to the afterlife only lasted about fifteen minutes.

I’ll probably visit the gravestone again, in the future, but it will be more about ritual than making a connection. In no way am I trying to discourage people from believing life after death; feel free to talk to your loved ones. I just believe that my way of thinking is better because I keep my cousin’s memory with me every day, instead of waiting to meet in an afterlife which more than likely does not exist.

If you are still out there, Kevin; send me a sign. Write something in the comment section for this post. **I doubt he’ll write anything, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed!**

P.S. Don’t be a dick naughty person and create a fake profile named Kevin, just so you can write some asinine comment; YOU’RE BETTER THAN THAT!!!

@PeteTeix617

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No Thanks

Posted by Peter Teixeira on

**This is post number 150!**

     Although this is my one hundred and fiftieth entry, it is bitter sweet. I previously wrote about my difficulty with holidays. Click on the link to read the post, Why I Cry On The 4th Of July. Thanksgiving Day is just as challenging for me. This time, which is usually reserved for family and friends, is arguably the longest day of the year for me; twenty four hours of painful memories.

I will do my best to be strong, but this entry will be a struggle for me.

     I always found Thanksgiving to be the best holiday of the year. I come from a large family and everyone lived in the Greater Boston area. The food was amazing, and the company was top notch. Everything changed during the autumn of 1985. (I haven’t enjoyed Thanksgiving, since then!)

My parents purchased a home in the town of Brockton, just a few miles south of Boston. Our house bordered the woods and we had several pet turkeys. The king Tom Turkey was Gobbler, a polygamist foul who was large and dominant. My favorite of the flock was the youngest stag, named Gob.

We had a fenced in property so the large birds were allowed to run wild. Each night, Gob would sleep in the large fir tree, which shaded my bedroom window. It was as if I had my own security guard watching over me.

Each morning, Gob would call out and wake me; I never had to set my alarm clock. Most of the turkeys remained wary of humans, but I developed a great friendship with Gob; he was my first and most favorite pet. He was like a member of the family.

My best friend and neighbor was a young Native American girl named Pocahotass; she belonged to the Wampanoag tribe. Pocahotass practically lived at our home; we rode our bikes all over town, going on mini adventures with Gob always riding shotgun in the front basket of my bicycle.

I can remember Pocahotass’ father asking me about my future plans and I responded, “I am not sure what I will be doing, but I know that whatever it is, I will be partnered with my best friend.” I always felt that Pocahotass was a friend, but Chief Massasoit believed that I would marry his lovely daughter, one day. He always teased me; he would laugh whenever I became shy.

Chief Massasoit is a brilliant man, and he was probably right; I would have married his beautiful daughter. I didn’t think anything could ever break the bond that we shared, but the Thanksgiving of 1985 changed everything.

***I am too emotional to continue writing this story. I am going to close the laptop and give myself some time to regain my composure!***

     I apologize for my inability to remain professional, but this was arguably the most difficult period in my life.

The day before Thanksgiving, I spent the day in Boston with family and friends while Pocahotass helped her mom with the grocery shopping. When I returned in the evening, I immediately ran to the backyard to see my favorite pet, Gob. As I walked towards the back of the house, I noticed that the lights were off in Pocahotass’ home; I figured she was out to dinner with her parents. When I arrived at Gob’s favorite fir tree, my heart was almost broken. Gob was sitting at the base of the tree, sobbing uncontrollably.

I attempted to comfort him but he was a turkey; I had no idea why he was crying. I picked up my pet and brought him into my room. I created a comfortable nest for him and provided a bowl of treats; I filled the dish with green beans, corn, bread pieces, and cucumbers. Any other day, Gob would have devoured the mix, but he didn’t eat a thing. I had no idea what he was going through.

In the morning, I woke and checked on Gob. I couldn’t believe what I witnessed; my little pet was dead. After crying for several hours, my mother walked into my room to check on me. I explained what happened and she revealed a horrible truth. (I will never forget her words!)

“Your little pet most likely died from heartache; he probably couldn’t deal with the fact that his entire family was killed yesterday.”

I couldn’t believe what she was saying. To my dismay, the turkeys were not pets; they were food. The rest of the flock was sold to friends of my parents, except for Gobbler; he was served at our dinner table. The rest of the family saw food; I saw my favorite pet’s dad. (It was a living hell, which I have to relive every year!)

I ran to Pocahotass’ house and revealed the traumatic information. To my surprise, my best friend didn’t care. She believed that it was ok to kill turkeys and serve them for Thanksgiving Day dinner. To this day, I cannot forgive her; I can’t forgive her. We are no longer friends!

In honor of my favorite pet, Gob; I will never eat turkey again!

     Enjoy one of the many murdered turkey with your family and friends, if you must, but please excuse me for being appalled! Would I like some turkey on Thanksgiving Day? No Thanks!

This year, I plan on guarding my fish tank; You never know when these murderers will have a desire to eat catfish! (To read about my fish, click the link! Tank Life)

**EAT CODFISH; SAVE A LIFE!**

@PeteTeix617

Fallon The Blind Dolphin

Posted by Peter Teixeira on

Heaven’s Angels   A Lesson   The Laws   The Tradition  The Myth

This is the first children’s story to be approved by the new Lord.

     Fallon was born to regular dolphins. His parents, major and Carol, never achieved the ultimate goal of joining Magma’s Nifty Nine; these were the specially chosen dolphins which led Magma during his Basalt Day gift giving journey. Only the fastest and strongest dolphins were chosen.

Fallon, like most dolphins, believed he would grow up and be one of the chosen ones. His supportive father encouraged his only son. Major taught Fallon that anything was possible, but deep down in his heart, he knew his son had absolutely no chance to be one of the Nifty Nine. Fallon was a special dolphin; he was born blind.

The calf suffered a great deal while growing up. The other baby dolphins teased Fallon on a daily basis. Due to his blindness, the young dolphin had an acute sense of hearing; he never missed any of the nasty comments. Each day, Fallon would return home with a face full of tears. Major was unhappy to see his son having so much trouble, but there was nothing that he could do other than continue to encourage his son.

Major told Fallon that he could become one of the Nifty Nine, as long as he didn’t give up hope. Carol didn’t think it was a good idea to lie to their son; she didn’t want to get his hopes up. Major understood why his wife was against lying, but he also wanted his son to always give a maximum effort.

Fallon was a clumsy dolphin. His lack of vision caused him to swim into everything. Each time he bumped into an object, the other dolphins would laugh and make jokes. In the beginning, Fallon always cried, but he eventually developed a strong sense of self and didn’t let the negative comments bother him. Fallon truly believed that he would prove the other dolphins wrong.

One day, while swimming with a group of his peers in the open ocean, Fallon decided to test his speed. He swam as fast as he could, and when fatigue began to set in, he stopped. Fallon asked if he was as fast as the other dolphins, but no one responded; Fallon found himself alone in the middle of the ocean.

The other dolphins saw Luna, a large orca. The calves were always taught to swim away if they ever saw the evil orca, but Fallon was the only one who couldn’t see. Eventually, Luna swam up to Fallon and asked if he was ok. Fallon found Luna to be extremely friendly and answered, yes. It turned out that the dolphins had nothing to fear; Luna was a friendly orca.

Fallon and Luna became great friends. In fact, it was Luna who taught Fallon to use his sonar to guide him. The two best friends practiced every day until Fallon developed the ability to sense everything that surrounded him. Fallon gained the ability to swim at fast speeds without having to worry about bumping into anything. Thanks to the help of his new best friend, Fallon became the fastest calf in the ocean.

The other children thought Fallon was extremely brave because he was the only dolphin who wasn’t afraid of Luna. The other calves cowered near their parents, while Major proudly watched Fallon swim with Luna. Each day, Fallon perfected his other senses to the point that his vision was no longer a hindrance.

It was the week before Basalt Day, and the Nifty Nine practiced for their special journey. Risso, the eldest and leader of the pod, planned on retiring; this would be his last trip. Risso recruited the best dolphins to practice with the Nifty Nine. He would watch them swim and choose a successor. Fallon asked Risso if he could practice with the group, but he was laughed at.

Major told his son that there would be other chances and to keep his head up. Fallon was determined to prove that he had the skills to join the team, and secretly followed the pod. Fallon could sense the challenging movements, from a distance, as the prospects practice under the watchful eye of Risso. Fallon could feel the maneuvers, and he practiced each drill.

Suddenly, there was a large eruption. The Lord gave magma complete control over the earth’s volcanoes, but our hero didn’t fully understand the responsibility and power which he possessed. Magma wanted to test his capabilities and caused an undersea volcano to erupt. He assumed the area was uninhabited, but the eruption happened in the exact location where the pod was practicing.

Volcanic ash filled the ocean, causing the dolphins to lose their ability to see. Unable to gain their bearings, the dolphins found themselves trapped; the pod was able to stay together due to their ropes, but they did not have the ability to escape the disaster. Risso prayed to the Lord and asked him to save the Nifty Nine as well as the prospects, but it seemed as if the group was doomed.

Fallon heard the cries and rushed to the group’s rescue; he called out and Risso answered. Fallon grabbed the rope and promised to lead the terrified dolphins to safety. Fallon used his super sonar abilities to steer clear of the ash. The young dolphin’s speed and power had never been felt before. The group followed his lead, but they remained frightful. Ten minutes later, Fallon stopped swimming and the other dolphins finally opened their eyes. They couldn’t believe it, Fallon saved their lives.

Risso, along with the other dolphins, thanked the young hero and promised to speak to Magma about the talented Fallon. The following day, the Nifty Nine gathered in front of Magma, who asked about the status of the prospects. Risso told the story of Fallon’s heroics and Magma was amazed. He asked each member if Fallon should be Risso’s replacement. Hector, Dusky, Common, Clymene, Spinner, Ganges, Indus, and Striper all answered, affirmatively.

The decision was unanimous and Risso agreed to retire a year early. Magma couldn’t wait to watch the young dolphin lead the special pod. Fallon became the best of the Nifty Nine and he gained the respect of every dolphin in the sea. He also taught the dolphins that Luna was a nice orca; there was nothing to fear. From that day forward, the dolphins learned never to judge anyone before giving them a chance.

THE END

Children’s song about Fallon: (Complete rip off of the Rudolph song!)

 Fallon the blinded dolphin

Couldn’t see a thing at all,

He bumped into all the objects,

Like he was a bouncing ball.

 

All of the other dolphins

 Used to laugh and call him names;

 They never let poor Fallon

Join in any dolphin games.

 

Then before one Basalt Day trip,

The Nifty Nine were trapped,

Fallon used his sonar skills,

And led them through the ash

 

Then how the dolphins loved him

As they shouted out with glee,

Fallon the blinded dolphin,

You’ll go down in history. 

More stories coming soon! Who knows, maybe I’ll even create more songs!

**Children will forget about Rudolph!**

@PeteTeix617

The Revelation

The Lost Toasts (Crazy Night)

Posted by Peter Teixeira on

If you came here expecting to find the lightly burnt piece of bread which you misplaced, you’re probably an idiot!

In my July 1st entry, My Proposal To Save Marriage, I mentioned attending two weddings. The nuptials were a week apart and I was prepared to give a toast, in case someone passed me a microphone! Unfortunately for everyone in attendance, the request never came. (Their loss!)

***In honor of Hispanic heritage month, the actual names will be given some Sabor!***

     My sister, Marcela, married her husband, Guillermo, on June 18th; here is the toast I would have given:

[Inside the Reception Hall]

Master of Ceremonies: “I will now call up the brother of the bride.”

[I saunter to the stage and he hands me the microphone. There are two reactions by the wedding guests. The people who didn’t know me, thought it was a great gesture for me to say a few words. The people who knew me, were terrified; not knowing what I would say!]

Me: “Thank you, kind sir.”

[The MC leaves the stage.]

Me: “First of all, I’d like to welcome Guillermo to the family.”

[There is a loud applause.]

Me: “I don’t know about everyone else, but when I think of marriage, I think of Jesus.”

[I pause for effect.]

Me: “Jesusssssss!” *In my best reverend impersonation*

[Those who know me are scared out of their minds.]

ME: “Those of you, who know me, know that I am not a religious person, but I always knew my sister was going to get married before she turned 30, because of Jesus. This may sound crazy, but it was the messiah himself who told her about her future marriage.”

[People look at me as if I am crazy.]

Me: “I’m serious. When we were young, Jesus told my sister that she would get married before the age of 30.”

[My sister looks puzzled.]

Me: “It all happened during the summer of ’89. My mother was taking us to the mall so we could do some shoe shopping; I couldn’t wait to buy a new pair of Jordan’s. My mom stopped at our family business to get some money and we remained outside. Out of nowhere, my sister taps me on the shoulder and says, ‘I am going to be married before I am 30.’ I had no idea what caused her to bring up the subject of marriage and I said, ‘what?’ She repeated the statement and I asked, ‘how do you know?’ That’s when she said the three words which I will never forget, ‘Jesus told me’!”

[The audience is on the edge of their seats.]

Me: “What? When the heck did you see Jesus? She pointed directly at me and said, ‘He’s right there.’ I was stunned at first; was she calling me Jesus? After a few seconds, I realized that she was actually pointing at a fifteen degree angle; from what I could ascertain, Jesus was over my right shoulder. As you can imagine, this was a confusing time for me. On the one hand, I was too afraid to turn around and see the ‘savior’ standing behind me; on the other hand, I was intrigued.”

[I pause again for effect.]

ME: “I don’t know what everyone’s beliefs are, but on that warm summer day, [I scan the room and look a few people directly in the eye. In my most convincing tone, I uttered the most powerful three words known to man.] I saw Jesus!”

[People are stunned, and have a strong desire to hear more.]

Me: “I turned around and the sun was directly in my eyes. I struggled to keep them open, but I was able to make out a figure. It was clearly a man; he was sitting on a rock. I held my right hand up to my forehead to shield my eyes from the sun’s forceful glare.”

[I hold up my hand to my forehead to reenact my motion for those in attendance. For the rest of the tale, I speak in a soft whisper.]

Me: “His face becomes clearer to me. To my amazement, I recognize the man. I turn to my sister and shake my head, disapprovingly. JESUS? *Spanish Pronunciation*You’re talking about Jesus? *Spanish Pronunciation*That drunk bastard will say anything! Last week, he told me I was going to play for the Red Sox!”

[The wedding guests erupt into laughter.]

Me: “Who knew? Drunk-ass Jesus *Spanish Pronunciation* was right!”

[I walk back to my seat, proudly, and the applause almost brings a tear to my eye!]

Too bad the toast never happened!

     The second wedding was celebrated the following week, on June 25th. My cousin Juanito married his lovely bride, Tulia. The maid of honor was Tulia’s sister, Katia. Prior to the wedding, Katia jokingly asked me to give her some ideas for a toast. Luckily, I came up with a good one. Here is the toast I suggested:

***I think it is important to mention that this was a large ceremony with over 600 guests, including the Mayor of Boston, along with some of the nuns and priests from the local church!***

     When they call you up, thank whoever hands you the microphone, then say, “what a funny mother!” Don’t say “fucker,” but mouth the word. Act surprised, as if the microphone stopped working. Look around at the crowd, and then look back at the microphone. Say, “hello?” Look puzzled and then mouth the word “fuck.” Again, act surprised as if the microphone is malfunctioning. Repeatedly mouth the word “fuck,” and look surprised after each “failed” attempt. Each time, you should appear to say the word with more conviction. After several failed attempts, pause, look at the audience, and shrug your shoulders. Finally, look at the microphone and motion as if you have solved a great riddle. Hold the microphone high so everyone can see it, and act as if you clicked a switch. Bring the microphone close to your mouth and say, “Who the fuck turned on the vulgar guard?” The audience will be laughing their asses off! (Well, not everyone!) From that moment on, you will have the people eating out of your hands!

I was way too drunk to remember Katia’s actual toast, but she did not take my suggestion. The audience would have loved my toast. (Oh well, these things happen!)

Let this be a lesson to all. You don’t have to include me in your wedding party because I would much rather drink freely without having any responsibilities, but get me involved in the speech making process; you won’t regret it!

The last toast is a perfect introduction to the story I am about to tell. I mentioned being drunk at the wedding but I was beyond inebriated; I was de-steroid! My cousin, Nestor, is the groom’s brother so he was in the wedding party. Nestor has a Chevy Tahoe, which I drove to the hall so we would be able to fit as many drunkards as possible; minimizing the number of people driving under the influence. (You see, I was actually paying attention during my forced attendance at a MADD presentation. Read my entry, Was I Expelled From Seton Hall, posted on July 11th.)

After the church ceremony, I drove to the Hall and parked the Tahoe in the main garage. The reception was a bit of a blur; I do remember the bar! About an hour before the festivities ended, my only concern was getting home as fast as possible, so I could sleep. I saw my mom, Maria, who was on her way to the exit, and I said, “If you’re leaving, I’m riding with you guys.” (I didn’t change my mom’s name; it has enough Sabor!) She replied, “You are drunk!” I shook off her wild accusation and replied, “No, I’m tired!” She obviously didn’t believe me.

I found Nestor and handed him his keys. I headed for the exit and found my mom. She was saying “bye” to some of the people who were in the hallway and I headed outside for some fresh air. When I exited the building, I ran into Juanito’s brother-in-law, Chano. I have no idea what we were talking about or how long we conversed, but I do remember failing to notice that my mom walked past me.

When I finally realized she was taking too long, I walked back inside. I came to the conclusion that she was at the car and I decided to meet her there. (Keep in mind, I had no idea where she parked!) I assumed she was in the garage and walked towards the entrance.

**Before the story continues, I must give a description of the hotel.**

     The wedding reception was held at the Marriott in Quincy, Massachusetts. It is important to note the fact that the hotel is located on top of a massive hill. (Pictured below!) If you look at the photo, the entrance has a red awning. The entrance to the garage is only a few feet away. (The black line marks my adventure and the green line is my return trip!)

I entered the garage and I walked all the way to the bottom. I couldn’t believe that I failed to find the car. In my drunken state, I decided to walk around and look for my parents. Maybe they parked in the exterior lot.

The exit to the garage is also marked in the photo. I walked across the dirt path and entered the other lot. I headed towards the building, but the door was locked. (Why I wanted to enter the building is a mystery to me!) I then walked all the way around the building almost completing a full circle. I found myself along the main road, hoping to catch the car as it drove by.

I also made the great decision to walk towards the highway, which is not pictured, off to the right. After about fifteen minutes of walking, reality set in. “What the hell am I doing?” I thought. I realized that I had to go back to the hotel and find a ride.

I turned around and looked towards the hotel. It was far away, and on top of what appeared to be a mountain. I had two choices; I could either walk back, or sleep on the grass and find a cab in the morning. (Luckily, my cell phone was dead!) I wanted to sleep in the grass, but I have no aspirations of becoming a hobo, so I walked back. Actually, I should say I stumbled back!

I arrived at the base of the hotel, but around the corner from the garage entrance. (I marked the area with a green circle.) I looked up at the hotel and all I could see was a high rock wall. I knew how far the entrance to the garage was, and I decided to just make the climb. (Yes, I had on a suit and shoes!)

I made several attempts to climb to the summit, but I always slipped back to the ground after two or three steps. (My suit was ruined!) I realized I would probably end up killing myself if I continued, so I stopped climbing. I made the long trek to the garage entrance and walked all the way to the top.

Thankfully, my cousin Emilio was standing outside of a car. (I marked the spot at the end of the green line.) The driver was my cousin Teresita, and she was with her sister Elena. Teresita offered to bring me home after she dropped off Emilio, IN BRAINTREE! I was drunk, but I had enough sense to decline the ride because I wanted to get home ASAP. (I would explain the distances for Quincy and Braintree, but there is such a thing named Google maps!)

Luckily, another cousin was standing nearby. Danilo offered to give me a ride and I followed him back into the garage. There we met up with several other cousins and I passed out in the car while they discussed the latest CNN polls, or whatever men talk about after a wedding. A short trip later, I was in front of my house and the journey ended.

The following day, I saw Nestor and he mentioned that I neglected to give him the location of his Tahoe. He assumed it was in the garage and found it fairly quickly. (The location is also pictured!)

     This tale may seem outlandish, but I actually had to experience what happened. What a night!

@PeteTeix617

This Actually Happened – October 8th, 2011

Posted by Peter Teixeira on

@TheeNword

People often ask me to write an entry about them. I always take the request as a joke, although I am never certain. I would enjoy writing about anyone, but guidelines have to be established. The other day, my cousin Nira F. Babee asked me to write about her and I laughed. (Yes, she likes Lil’ Wayne! In fact, her bedroom has several posters of the rapper adorning the walls. The posters helped to create an unforgettable experience for me while I visited my uncle who was suffering from an injury to his foot. I wanted to be supportive but keeping a straight face proved trickier than I expected. Picture a successful business man, stuck in bed, lying under a slew of Weezy posters! (I am kicking myself for not taking photos!) Nira wasn’t kidding, “I’m serious; you should write a story about me!” She said. Ok! What do you want me to write about? “Whatever, I don’t care.” Are you sure you want to give me that kind of power? “Yeah, go ahead.” In less than a blink of an eye, I created the idea to write an advice column; one in which I would be the advice-ee, if you will. I decided it would be a good idea to create a fake story about my cousin’s “problem.” The plan was to ask the readers to help me, help her. The kicker was the fact that her identity would have remained a secret, except for the fact that her name change would be Supermanesque. By that I mean a simple disguise; Nira would change to something obvious like Zira. (I would have fooled the many simpletons of Metropolis who could never figure out that Clark Kent did nothing more than remove his glasses and throw on some tights and a cape!) The conundrum I created for her was simple. She loved her boyfriend and was considering dropping-out of school to have his baby. She didn’t care and gave me the go ahead. I honestly began weaving the details into a believable account, but I realized the BIG PROBLEM; people may actually believe the tale. The last thing I wanted was to create some BIG CONTROVERSY, so I made the difficult decision to place responsibility ahead of comedy on my list of priorities; I hope this isn’t a new trend. Instead of birthing this year’s Thanksgiving Day topic, I decided to write about the truth! Nira is a delightful addition to our family; I’m so glad we imported her from Cape Verde! She is doing well in her collegiate studies, but I have better plans for her. While in high school, she had a goal and I would like to see her take a risk, drop out of school, and chase her dreams. “Which goal, you ask?” She dreamed the impossible dream; “I want to be one of the NBA wives!” (That was before the show; if you must know?) I hope she does drop out, but not to have a baby; I want her to meet that special NBA player. (If you play in the NBA, please contact her immediately!) Anyone else want me to write about them? Send me an e-mail! (Just don’t give me the freedom to write whatever I want…I won’t be as responsible!) This entry is titled @TheeNword because she often changes her Twitter name and this was my favorite! For a glimpse into her world, follow @NiraFBabee. She has been on an unrequited quest to receive a Retweet from her favorite player, Carmelo Anthony; she also desires a RT from his wife Lala and Lil’ Wayne! So far, Lala is the only one to respond. (If you’re keeping score at home, that’s one out of three, or thirty-three percent. Baseball players would kill for those numbers!) ***Please be advised, she is my younger cousin so don’t follow her if you’re a PERVERT!*** I can’t believe I chose to be responsible! BELIEVE IT OR NOT!

I am a Gators fan for life! Remember to cheer for the Gators at 3:30pm (EST)…Let’s take down #1 LSU

GO GATORS!!!

Don’t forget to check back tomorrow for a preview of next week’s posts!

@PeteTeix617

Bullying & Suicide

Posted by Peter Teixeira on

Let me preface this post by stating a fact. Bullying is wrong and has no place in society.

That being said, bullies will always be present. The key is to teach children how to react to a bully. As long as parents continue to plop their children in front of the boob-tube, kids will learn to become bullies. We live in a cruel society and children are aware of everything that goes on around them. (Note to parents: Stop allowing the TV to raise your children!)

I attended Boston Latin and it seemed as if the school was full of bullies. People just found a way to get with the program. Obviously, bullying shouldn’t exist, but anyone who can make it through adverse situations will be better prepared for the real world. After all, isn’t that what school is all about! (You can’t prevent other children from being bullies, but you can teach your children how to deal with bullying; that’s part of being a parent!)

I honestly consider the “bullying” that occurred in high school as good-natured ribbing, but I can understand the opposing view. At BLS, every class has a will. There are designated pages in the yearbook in which students write random comments. Our will was so bad that it was disallowed. (There were comments about a girl who everyone voted ‘Most likely to become a head master;” nothing unusual about that. Until the faculty learned that she was elected because she performed fellatio on a fellow graduating senior!)

Recently there have been two notable cases in which children have committed suicide “because of bullying.” You have to be kidding me. Bullying is bad, but it doesn’t cause people to kill themselves. I don’t have the exact numbers but if I was going to ballpark-it, I would say that there are 836 million cases of bullying that occur in the world each year. Out of that number, I would say, there are 13 suicides, worldwide. Blaming bullies is simply wrong. (Parents need to take responsibility!)

Bullies should be punished by the school principals and their parents, not the court system. Parents and teachers have to step it up. There are too many kids who persevere through difficult situations, for anyone to blame bullies for suicides. Some children don’t have the parental guidance to help them get through life’s hardships. Many people feel sorry for the children who kill themselves, but I feel sorry for the bullies. They are blamed for the actions of unloved children. (It’s absolutely unfair!)

Parents who go on television and blame other children for the death of their unloved child are out of touch with reality. These are the types of incidents which cause me to be a major proponent of forced abortions. Every occupation in this world requires some form of testing or screening process, but any horny idiot with a willing sex partner can have a child. It’s ridiculous. (People should be screened before we allow them to have children; it’s not right to allow a child to come into this world under adverse situations!)

Adults who commit suicide have only themselves to blame, but child suicide is the cause of bad parenting. If a parent loses his or her child to suicide, there will be many friends and family members who say, “don’t blame yourself.” I say bullshit. Parents should accept full responsibility for adolescent suicides.

It breaks my heart to watch children be vilified for bullying their schoolmates. Making an example of children because they committed acts which were learned from society is wrong. Bullies should be chastised but they are not murderers.

Suicide prevention is simple; involve yourself in your child’s life. Take an active role. Parenting is not like sports; you don’t get credit for trying your best. Be responsible and raise your children the right way. “Who determines the right way?” Let’s start with teaching your children not to kill themselves. Being a parent is a difficult job; many people are not prepared. (We can’t blame others for bad parenting!)

“It’s not fair to blame parents if a depressed child commits suicide.” Are you kidding me? Yes, I agree; parents can’t be blamed if a child has depression, but parents can be blamed for not helping the child get through the low moments. How do you not know that your child is depressed? Get involved. Take the child to a therapist and do whatever it takes to heal the child. (There is nothing that a parent’s love can’t cure!)

There is a clear distinction between adult suicide and child suicide. Children don’t know any better; they have to be taught that their lives have value. Adults are different. I can never feel sorry for an adult who commits suicide. (This is coming from someone whose uncle committed suicide!)

I once took a class called The Anthropology of Death’ in which we watched a documentary about suicide. The name of the film is The Bridge. I actually viewed the documentary before I signed up for the course, because that’s what I do. A filmmaker placed a camera across from the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco and recorded the people who jumped to their deaths. (It’s unbelievable how many people jumped!)

There was even one guy who survived. His story was quite interesting. (Watch the movie!)

The professor asked for our opinions and I said, if I had the power, I would build a ladder for people to climb to the top of the bridge, so they could ensure death. My reasoning was, if you don’t think you deserve to live, who am I to say you should stay alive. I was pulled to the side when the period ended and the professor thought I was just trying to add shock value, but I was clear about my views; some people don’t deserve to live. (I know it’s horrible to say, but I can only speak the truth!)

To me, suicide is a cowardly act. Life has many challenges and suicide is a lame way to leave this realm. We all have difficult moments. There are many children who grow up with horrible parents and they are able to overcome every obstacle and achieve great success. Those are the true heroes!

Kids say mean things, and those children will grow up to be mean adults. Teach your children how to deal with a bully and prepare them for the future. Stop looking for excuses for your bad parenting!

@PeteTeix617

A Conversation With Kevin

Posted by Peter Teixeira on

*This is an actual account of events that happened last night. This post was written and saved into my drafts. I experienced every detail during a blackout episode. (No, I wasn’t drinking, ASSHOLE!) When I came to, the post was finished but for some reason, I can add to the piece only; I can’t make any editorial changes. (I definitely wanted to make some edits!) CRAZIEST EXPERIENCE EVER!!!

[I am in my room, I’m not alone.]

Female Companion: “It’s ok…that happens to most guys!”

Me: “I swear this never happens!”

Female Companion: “Ok, I guess I’m going to takeoff now. Are you about to go to sleep?”

Me: “No! I’ll probably watch the Gators game.”

Female Companion: “I didn’t know they played this late.”

Me: “They don’t, I have the game recorded on my DVR.”

Female Companion: “Damn, I guess you really are a fan.”

Me: “Yeah, text me when you get home.”

Female Companion: “OK, I will.”

[I get dressed, walk her out, then return to my room and sit on the couch. She goes off to some other guy’s house!]

I turn on the television and watch the Gators dominate! (I honestly record most of the Gators’ games on my DVR and watch them whenever I am bored! GO GATORS!) The Gators are leading by a score of 28-0. Starting quarterback John Brantley is marching the offense towards another touchdown when, suddenly, the DirecTV box shuts-off and I am left to watch a blank screen.

Me: “No fucking way! It’s not even raining. If this box starts malfunctioning like the Comcast box, I’m going to…”

[The light begins to turn on and off. It’s as if someone is deliberately playing with the switch, but I am alone.]

Me: “What the hell is going on?”

[I hear a familiar laughter from my past.]

Me: [Scared out of my mind.] “Is that really you?”

Voice: “Yes, it’s me, Fanta.”

Me: “Is this real…what the heck are YOU doing here?”

Voice: “I’m just playing, it’s me!” [Kevin appears. He is laughing hysterically! For some reason, even though he is a ghost, I don’t feel any sense of fear!]

Me: [Laughing] “Dude, you’re an idiot!” [I fold my arms and stare him in the eyes.] “Really? This is how you’re going to show up?”

Kevin: [Standing before me in a speedo.] “What? I’ve been working out.”

Me: “C’mon man, get the fuck out of here with that shit!”

Kevin: [Laughs and switches to more presentable clothing.] “Damn, still in love! You have to let her go man!” [Laughs]

Me: “Yo, you’re dead! When are you going to let that Fanta story go?”

Kevin: “Never!”

Me: [Shaking my head.] “Some people never grow up! This is weird. Were you here the whole night? Were you spying on me while I was smashing? That’s creepy! ”

Kevin: “NO! I just got here. You didn’t think I was going to let that Gators’ game play? Florida’s wack.”

Me: “Notre Dame FUCKING SUCKS! You sure you aren’t a dead peeping Tom? I can swear I heard some creep whisper, ‘give her a stroke for me.’”

Kevin: “Your dumb. Who was that…your girl?”

Me: “Na man.”

Kevin: “It’s cool, you can claim her. Who lives here now?”

Me: “Me, Dough, and G. D-I-X is done. This is where the magic happens!”

Kevin: “Yeah right. What’s good with you and your wifey who just left?”

Me: “No wifey. I’m just chilling right now. No time for a girl—I’m on my paper chase. Plus, we’re off to LA in January.”

Kevin: “Who?”

Me: “I’m going with E and cousin C.”

Kevin: [Laughs…he can barely control himself.] “Cousin C! What’s good with him?”

Me: “He’s chillin’. Just working and getting ready to make this move.”

Kevin: “The three of you guys? Talk about no buns!”

Me: “Yeah aight!”

Kevin: “That’s good J’s around. LA huh? That’s ill. Hold on a second.” [He looks around the bedroom.] “Where is the condom wrapper?”

Me: “Yeah, where did that thing go?”

Kevin: “Raw-dawg! You’re trying to have a baby?”

Me: “Hell NO! And I’m definitely not taking any shit from the raw-dawg king.”

Kevin: “That’s an allegation…I always strapped up.”

Me: “Yeah, me too! But for real, I try not to use condoms for two reasons. One, the Pope is against the use of condoms and, two, I love the environment and I know how much damage can be caused by latex!”

Kevin: “You’re dumb. Anyone slip up and have kids?”

Me: “Slip up? You’re an asshole. Children are wonderful and the parents should feel lucky to bring them into this world.”

Kevin: “My fault.” [We laugh.]

Me: Yeah, there are a bunch of kids out here. Go haunt someone else and find out. From the male cousins it’s only Zep, Dough, and D; D is the only one with a boy!”

Kevin: “Yeah? Dudes don’t wanna strap up. Huh? Zep and Dough have girls…I hope they got the shotgun ready?”

Me: “I hope so. You know we don’t take care of your kids, right?”

Kevin: [Laughs] “Allegations, allegations!”

Me: “What’s good with death? Do you get to mash out a bunch of smuts?”

Kevin: “Nah, this body isn’t real. When we come back to earth we can appear as our old selves, but we don’t exist in the physical form.”

Me: “So you’re just a mind floating around?”

Kevin: “Yeah, basically.”

Me: “Is there a heaven and hell with god and the devil?”

Kevin: “Yeah. God was going to send me to hell, but I convinced him to let me go to heaven. He said I need someone to vouch for me so, for now, I have to stay in purgatory. Then when Nel dies, I can get him to hook me up!”

Me: [Laugh] “Are you fucking with me?”

Kevin: “For real. We sat there and reviewed my life. I had to explain everything.”

Me: “So how did you come here, if you’re waiting for Nel?”

Kevin: “Na, I’m just joking. There is no heaven of hell—no god or devil.”

Me: [Laugh] “Damn, I was about to go tell Nel to hurry up cause you’re waiting on him. So what happens when you die? I know you can’t help out ND, cause they suck ass!”

Kevin: “Yeah, I thought god would help ND win. If I knew there was no god, I would’ve picked a different team!”

Me: [Banging my index finger against my palm.] “You see this…see the stars? 25 all-Americans!” [He Laughs] “What really happens?”

Kevin: “Once you die, your spirit leaves your body, but no one runs the afterlife. Everyone is free, but we have no bodies. The people who have been around the longest are always around to help out with info, but no one knows everything. There are almost an infinite number of planets and we can go to any just by thinking about it. Since we are just minds, the travel is basically instant. It’s hard to enter a planet that has aliens because you can only enter with someone who is from the planet.”

Me: “So there are aliens?”

Kevin: “Yeah. I don’t come to earth cause it’s not easy. I have to be invited by a psychic or I can come with someone else who is invited. That’s how I came; one of my boys was called by his sister.”

Me: “What about all the people we know that died?”

Kevin: “They’re straight. No suffering after death. We all have a connection because we knew each other, so we can always meet up.”

Me: “So you can communicate with them whenever you want?”

Kevin: “Yeah, it’s easy. Usually I just travel from planet to planet and try and meet someone who can let me in so I can see how aliens live. We can enter any planet without life, so whenever I feel like remembering the past, I’ll go to one and see the memories.”

Me: “Can you actually see what happened?”

Kevin: “Yeah. You can relive the whole experience; it’s crazy. I can watch everything I did during my life, and if I meet up with someone I know, we can connect minds and I can share their memories. It’s almost like letting someone borrow a dvd.”

Me: “Let’s get back to the smashing. You’re telling me there is no sex in the champagne room?”

Kevin: [Laughs] “No, we can’t have sex, but you can connect with a chick and see her past; it’s better than you think!”

Me: “So let me get this straight. You died in 2006, right?”

Kevin: “Yeah.”

Me: “It’s 2011. So what you’re telling me is, you didn’t get any ass for the past five years!”

Kevin: [Laughs] “C’mon man, no one can smash.”

Me: [I laugh so much, I literally roll on the ground.] “YOU GET NO ASS!!!”

Kevin: [Laughs] “Na, I meet chicks. I’ve seen some crazy stuff.”

Me: “Damn. I can’t believe you died and went to the Friend Zone. You’re actually trying to tell me that you meet chicks and watch some other dude bang them out? Sounds like fun.”

Kevin: [laughs] “You get no ass!”

Me: “I smell like pussy right now. My fault, you forgot what it smells like.”

Kevin: “Chill, Chill.”

Me: “Damn, that’s crazy though. What happens to the people who never had sex?”

Kevin: “They’ll never be able to experience it.”

Me: “It must suck to follow the laws of a god that doesn’t exist, and then find out that you did it all for nothing. I guess you were right…People need to live it up, because our memories will stay with us for eternity.”

Kevin: “Yeah, it’s crazy. Some people have boring lives and they just hang around earth, too scared to leave and explore. They are the ones who do all the haunting. It usually takes a psychic to get them to leave earth.”

Me: “You know what I always wonder about? You can see earth from space right?”

Kevin: “Yeah.”

Me: “Does my dick block the view?”

Kevin: [Laughs] “Yeah right.”

Me: “You can keep it real with me!” [We laugh.] “This is crazy. I can’t believe I’m talking to you.”

Kevin: “What you missed me?”

Me: “Na man, I’m like David Ortiz with a hanging curve ball…I don’t miss.”

Kevin: “What’s good with my little sis?”

Me: “Aw man, she’s fucking up!”

Kevin: “For real?”

Me: “Na, I’m fucking with you. She’s good. In fact, she replaced you…we don’t need you anymore. You know what? I don’t know why I never thought of this before—From now on, I’ll take out my anti Notre Dame comments on her!”

Kevin: “That’s good; I have to go check on everyone else.”

Me: “How long can you stay?”

Kevin: “It’s up to me but, honestly, I just wanted to check in real quick. I can catch up with everyone in the future; there’s a whole new world.”

Me: “That’s great Aladdin! I guess that makes sense.”

Kevin: “What’s good with a cruise, did you hit one up yet?”

Me: “Not yet, but I’ll go soon.”

Kevin: “You’re slacking. Did you ever end up going on a better trip than the Jamaica one?”

Me: “Hell no! That was classic. Remember the chick from Worcester?”

Kevin: “Of course. She was a Kel seven! What’s good with the Peter Parkas?”

Me: [Laugh] “There are no parkas! You know I’m going to write about this convo, so we shouldn’t keep talking about Jamaica.”

Kevin: “Damn, I hate talking to people who are on lock!”

Me: “Definitely not on lock…just trying to be respectful.”

Kevin: “”What’s good with Latin…still spanking English?”

Me: “Yeah, we killed them this year. 54-12. Coach Mac had the team kneeling with almost seven minutes to go! Yo, you missed out, your boy Shaq was with the Celtics last year.”

Kevin: “Damn, yo yo yo, shaq is big!” [We laugh.]

Me: “Yo, we still have to discuss Tebow, the two national championships, and ND’s championship drought.”

Kevin: “Yo, I’m out. Bag Up!”

[He disappears.]

Me: “This fucking guy!” [Shaking my head.]

[The End]

*Ok, so I fibbed. This is not an actual account. This is one of the many possible scenarios for the afterlife. No one can know exactly what happens!

For those who don’t know, Fanta is the name of a girl who attended elementary school with me. One day, we were in the kitchen drinking a bottle of Fanta soda and I mentioned this fact. Since then, there has been an inside joke that I was in love with her!

Kevin was the best of us! Instead of wasting time missing him, I like to think about past events and how much fun we had together. Old habits are hard to break; in the past, every time something negative happened to Notre Dame, I would call him and we’d have a brief conversation! I still reach for the phone whenever something negative happens to Notre Dame. Some people have the ability to affect your life more than you can imagine! We strive everyday to live up to the standard that he set. Each day, I can hear his voice challenging me to do something amazing. I’m Trying!

If there is a future meeting with Kevin, I look forward to continuing the conversation. We really need to talk about Tebow!

Notre Dame SUCKS! GO GATORS!!!

@PeteTeix617