My storytelling uncle told a yarn yesterday that while amusing, loses all value when translated. Those who know ‘the code’, please enjoy. Sorry for my rotten code scripting.

Fui a ese teatro ‘edwards’ y tuve que ir al bano. Pos, entre, me sente y empeze mis cosas. En unos momentos va entrando un vato y lo oigo decir.

“Ey! Como estas buey!”

Ma? Pos me reconizio las botas o que? le respondí.

“Pos aqui cabron.”

Y luego fue y se sento en el bano al lado de mi.

“Todavia vives en la misma casa?”
“Pos, si, todavia.”
“Y ahora cuantos niños tienes?”
“Pos, cuatro mano.”
“Orale, esta bien, ay te llamo al rato pues.”

yeah, turns out the guy was on the phone. Sorry I couldnt recreate the upside down question marks.

Anxiety Level:

So it happened and here I am. I keep looking at my hands. Sure there’s a ring on one of the fingers, but nothing else seems different. I was sure that as soon as I proclaimed that I indeed “do”, wrinkles would rush across my face, a pipe would fall in my mouth and I would find myself in the garden, reading a newspaper on a Sunday morning. I was to be ushered into mortgage paying adulthood.

Instead, it’s the butt-crack of dawn and my wife and me are drunkenly trying to sneak into our apartment (so as to not wake the room-mate). We’ve been drinking, smoking, karaoking & Rockbanding. On our adventure Rachel partook in a 40oz. & Clamato, while I snuck rum into the Pepsii purchased at the bar.

I’m still not sure, but I think everything’s going to be just fine.