About "The Me"
Doggy in the Sky with Kermit
All the Things the Government Knows About Me:
Born: 9 October 1980 (40 years and about 12 hours after John Lennon)
I was born in Los Angeles, California over nineteen years ago to Filipino/Spanish parents.
My sister, Angel, was born on 17 March, 1975 and, because of the date of her birth,
has a weird thing about really being Irish.
Planned Epitaph: "I had a feeling this would happen."
Things my mother knows about me:
Born: 9 October 1980 FROM 8:00p.m. to 10:12p.m.!!!
"I wanted you to be born on the 10th so I could say you were born 10/10"
My sister, Angel, was born on 17 March, 1975 FROM 6:00a.m. to 7:00a.m.
"Your sister had things to do. You had a couple of hours to spare."
"Don't tell your sister that St. Patrick wasn't Scottish and that there were never snakes in
Ireland."
Planned Epitaph: It should be "My mother was right."
Things my friends know about me:
Born: "The same day as John Lennon," he says every year like he's going to be as talented as John OR The day before the annual guilt trip.
Planned Epitaph: I told him to walk OVER it.
Autobiography
I grew up in Glendale, California and attended John Muir Elementary School for one year, my kindergarten year. My mother has this thing about how I'm a naturally smart kid and had me take the entrance test a year early. They accepted me. I was REALLY good at fingerpainting. . . After meeting with success at John Muir, I decided to continue my education. My mother wanted me to get a job and start taking care of myself. At that age, I could only take care of wetting myself. . . I was granted admittance into Holy Family Grammar School. There, as the quiet boy who had the most Nintendo games, I flourished as a student, but did not fair well on the social level. Until the 6th grade, I'd been liked by one "cool" person, Tim - my best friend throughout grammar school. One night, one of the leaders of the "cool group," Abbee, called me to ask about homework - actually, probably about the answers for the homework - and we started talking. We talked for three hours. This would be the average length of our conversations for the rest of sixth grade and the following two years. And then, I graduated with horrors and went on to Loyola College Preparatory High School in South Central L.A. It's ranked high in the nation on all levels and my experience there proved to be some of the best years of my life, all 19 years of it. It was during my Loyola years that I learned that "cool" is not dictated by others, but by one's self. . . While waiting in the waiting room of a doctor's office, (There really isn't anything else to do in there but wait. I'm not really interested in the special issue of Time that discusses whether or not the Celtics are the team of the decade, the 60's decade.) I was flipping through an interesting issue of Time (I remember an article on the "recent" blockbuster film, Star Wars, starring a hot new commer, Harrison Ford.) and found an advertisement for stand-up workshops at The Comedy Store in West Hollywood. Not knowing anything about The Comedy Store, but knowing I thought it would be fun, I asked my mother to buy me workshops for my birthday, my eleventh birthday. She did. I went. I'm funny (I will soon publish a page expounding upon my experiences at The World Famous Comedy Store) . . At Loyola, I met Colin. He was in five out of my six classes - although, he says I was in five out of HIS six classes - and we couldn't help but talk to each other. Eventually, we realized that we are in fact the same person. That's the only way I can describe our friendship. There is none, really. We just are one person. Now, because we are both individuals and we are the other person, it would follow logic to say that, if one of us were in the room with one person, I/he would be in the majority and, thus, would win if we/they had to take a vote as to who would get the last bagel or something. I am forever grateful to Loyola for the knowledge, loving, and life lessons I've received. . . During my Loyola years, I grew a lot as a person. Enduring the inhumanely difficult Loyola classes as well as staying on top of current events for my stand-up set, I learned that it's not worth killing yourself over things you don't really want. I almost killed myself with all of that work and constant cerebral activity. And I don't regret a thing. I really wanted it. . . One of the biggest events of my life occured while at Loyola. Gerry Hegarty, a friend, father figure, and mentor, passed on this mortal coil to sleep. His was the first death of a close friend I'd experienced. I'll never be able to thank him for all he's done for me as an academic, as man, and as a self. And, being "Brother Gerry," he wouldn't want me to. . . So, I graduated again, and by this time, graduating was rather uninteresting. I mean, I've been through this, whatever, man. I graduated and moved to New York City for college - Fordham University. There, I forgot to do certain things: study, sleep, save money, go to classes, have bread readily available, do laundry, do homework, put the key in the slot before turning, censor my thoughts before speaking, remember I'm mortal, follow rules, return to my dorm at least once a week, etc. I lived on the 3rd Floor of Alumni Court North. Traditionally, the university - through pure clairvoyance - restricts the 3rd Floor to only smart, party kids and last year was no different. This is well-known. For example, the first week I was at FU, I was talking to a girl and the asked where I lived. "North." "Oh, really? I live there too. What floor?" I replied, "Third." She, knowledgable of the mythical demi-gods that live on the 3rd Floor retorts with an astonished, "OH!" She wouldn't stop talking to me for the rest of the night. Freshman year was the most lively year of my life and I'm changed for the better because of it. But I'd never go back. . . Now, we are at the present. I've straightened out that "going to class" problem and the 3rd Floor Boys, although split up in different dorms, still get together to dominate Fordham Social Life. I'm still having some of the best times of my life and I thank God that I am. . . To finish, I'd like to reward you for reading this far. So, I've hidden a link to one of the best sites on the web below, just click and you'll find yourself in cyber-heaven. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and good-night."