I Quit the magazine...

I Quit the Magazine

the time came when I had to resign and move back home to Eagle Pass to take care of the family business. The job had been good and the company even better. I had no complaints as my boss was a great guy and very cute too. We did not get to see each other much as the headquarters were in New York City and I worked from home and through the computer.

In any case, my articles were well read and I was getting decent remuneration. I was respected in the field of journalism and very much appreciated by my editor. So, when they came to Houston for a national meeting, most of the executives and writers were there. It was something they did once a year to keep cohesion and to get to know one another. It was crucial for the planning and direction of the magazine.

Having said that, at the end of the meetings, which lasted two days, I handed in my letter of resignation to the editor. He was this forty something stud, married and a graduate of one of the Ivy League schools in journalism. He was a genius in my mind. I could not hold a candle to him professionally. But the guy was very stoic and a bit detached, almost unreacheable. I was never able to get past the niceties and the usual meaningless chit chat. When he got the letter in his hands, he started to read it and all of a sudden he had to sit down. It was totally unexpected and it pretty much shook him up.

We

discussed the reasons and he even proposed that I take a leave of absence and then consider to just work out of the house from Eagle Pass. I declined right away because I knew how involved and complicated the running of the vineyards is and on top of that we also had all these other properties. I was not going to make the same mistake my dad made and hand the management of these to some management company. I would have managers on the premises but not a total hand over, nor was I planning on micromanaging everything. In any case, there was no way in hell I could be with the magazine and do both.

My editor, Remy was very sad and for the first time since I worked there I detected any emotion or reaction on his part. It was as if he was losing a brother or something like that. Then came the shocker. Remy told me that he had secretly been in love with me since he first became editor and came to work for the magazine. I on the other hand, was there working almost two years before he was made editor.

I was paralyzed with the surprise and could not really assimilate what he had just said. So Remy repeated it in another way. He told me that when he first saw me, he was overwhelmed by lust and a desire to go to bed with me. He dared not do it as it would be misinterpreted as sexual harassment and that would be the end of him. Then I told him my side of the story. Ever since he came to work as editor I had a tremendous crush on him. I never acted it out or did anything about it because I always thought he was straight.

He then added that perhaps I had perceived him to be aloof and stoic but it was a mechanism to hide his great desire to make love to me. Now I get it, the guy was actually part in the closet and part intimidated by the prospects of a law suit. I told him: Let me tell you something Remy, that may have been the case for over four years but the barrier has been lifted, if you want to have an affair with me all you have to do is say so.

Remy did not even hesitate, he said: “Richard, there is nothing I would want more than to go to bed with you, as a matter of fact, right now”. So I said: “Ok, Remy, let’s go up to your room”. Out of the conference room and into the elevator we went. The doors to the elevator closed and Remy hugged me and kissed me right there. He could not wait to get to his room. The doors of the elevators opened and there was someone waiting and saw us making out, did not matter much to either one of us. We stepped out, walked down the hall and into the room. The most torrid, passionate man had just been unleashed and was rid of his inhibitions. Remy was in my arms and he was kissing me, invading with his hands the territory that up to half an hour ago was forbidden to him.

He said: “Richard Alfonso De Orizaba, I want you to fuck my ass”. I replied: “Remy Joseph Garamond, I want to fuck your delicious ass”.

And this unleashed a wave of unparallel passion, first he went down on me, then I sucked his cock, next I was eating his ass and he knelt in a chair as I prepared to penetrate him. There was no turning back and he knew it. He wanted my dick up his ass so bad, had been wanting it all along all these years, and I was not going to delay the wait any longer. Into his ass it went, bareback and without any lube. Remy was not used to getting fucked and he struggled for a bit until my schlong was finally completely inside him. Then came a short reprieve, a very sweet tender moment when I bent over him and he turned his head and we kissed. I did not move at all, letting Remy adjust and allowing him to start the moving. I reached his armpit after the kiss stopped and he was good, some deodorant but not gross. And then he began to move his rump, a little bit at a time until he was traveling with his ass the whole ten inch length of my manhood.

The spirited fuck session grew into a frenzy, changing positions several times as I got so hot each time I was going to bust a nut, but I wanted it to last, so I would stop, take out my cock and I would turn him around, now he was on the floor with his legs up in the air. This gave me the chance to go down on him as I fucked him. Remy was not as good as I was in holding back the orgasm, within a couple of minutes he started to shoot his load into my welcoming mouth. Squirt after squirt of man essence and I gave him mine in return as soon as I felt his liquid love in my mouth. I was cumming and cumming, so hard that I am sure if it had been outside the cum would have flown across the room.

I spent the night at the Warwick and we made love several times whenever one of us would wake up. Then it was one more time in the morning. We parted ways after I watched Remy take a shower and then I joined him and we made love under the falling water once more. We have kept in touch but have not been able to get together again. That is one of my New Year’s resolution.

Vigils held around the country

Maybe we should get out and demonstrate a little more and the fringe right wing element of the Republican Party won’t think that they are an overwhelming majority.

And these people didn’t carry their guns or interrupted any town hall meeting by sabotaging the efforts of the elected representatives to have a meaningful discourse between the constituents and them.

On September 2, 2009, over 60,000 MoveOn members gathered at 350 vigils around the country with one

message: We Can't Afford to Wait for health care reform that includes a real public option.

A chat with my next door neighbor

This morning, very early in the morning I went out to gather the newspaper from the driveway, trying to hurry before the oncoming storm. I stopped and talked to my next door neighbor who is this delightful young man, very smart and very handsome.

It turns out that he has been reading my blog; his mom was over last week and I gave her the URL and then he said that we were on the same page on many things. The only thing was that he didn’t think that I should use so much profanity because that tends to alienate people. That is the same thing my daughter said, I remarked; but you know what? I don’t care if these wing nut douche bags are hit on the head by a 2 X 4 they still will not wake up and accept the truths, at least they will continue to hear only what they want to hear and it is mainly the Republican lies.

I told Gino that some of them, if they get past my introduction insults, would be very challenged and frustrated. I have always believed that profanity is the salt and pepper of the language stew. Since I can’t hit them over the head with a two by four, I use the next best thing I know…words can be a weapon and a tool, sometimes more powerful than an act of aggression.

Sure I would like to slap some of them across the face, although I am not the violent type, but I realize that even that will not make them snap out of their state of blissful ignorance.

Among the topics of conversation this morning with my next door neighbor Gino, was one that is very dear to my heart. He holds the same tired concept that immigrants don’t want to learn English. I explained to him that it is a misconception that the Republicans, particularly the racist ones have successfully imparted on a great many people.

I speak from the experience of seeing both my parents struggle with the language barrier. Oh, they tried, they tried so hard, taking English classes at night after a 12 or 14 hour workday. Sometimes they would be just too tired to get on the bus and go to school. Yet, my parents understood perfectly well that learning the language would open up some doors for them and would allow them to take better jobs.

However, it is only carried to a limited degree as I can ascertain from my own experience. I told Gino that as long as I was waiting on tables and cleaning floors I did not meet any opposition. The minute I got that college degree is when I found out about the glass ceiling and the real sentiment behind this “Speak English, you are in America”. It seems to be some sort of code to tell us that we the Hispanics are inferior in some way because we were born on the other side of the river or tracks.

I think that a more perfect example of this being carried to the extreme is the Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s nomination. Regardless of this bright, experience lawyer bringing with her the most extensive jurisprudence experience in many years, we saw the way she was grilled in the hearings. I found some of the remarks and questions downright insulting. This leaves me with the question: When are Latinos going to be educated enough, experienced enough to have a reasonable chance at positions of prestige and power? Am I ever going to be white enough for these people?

I assured Gino that the worries are unfounded. The generational gap will take care of this as is evident with my own daughters who speak the language without a trace of an accent and who are perhaps better qualified than any WASP ignorant applicant for the same job. And even my own daughters have at one time or another heard: “why don’t you get into the banana boat you came in and go back to your country? I tell you, you can’t win with these people.

In critical condition Gale Harold after motorcycle accident

Actor Gale Harold one of “Desperate Housewives” and “Queer as Folk” actor was admitted at USC, a Southern California hospital in critical condition after suffering injuries from a motorcycle accident.

The accident took place on Tuesday and there are no other known details, no other person was injured. Harold, who plays the role of Jackson, Susan Mayer’s boyfriend.

He suffered a severe trauma to the head and a broken shoulder but is expected to recuperate.

SOURCE:http://es.wikipedia.org/

A good blog I follow:

http://stunningsexyguys.blogspot.com

And also: http://woolgatherer.typepad.com/woolgatherer/