The Outhouse

I've never been to the Tremenda restaurant on San Bernardo. It's not that I'm not interested in visiting the place, it's just that I haven't made it a point to stop by. After I received this pic, though, a pit-stop at the eatery is on my to-do list.

This is their restroom....

Pipis Room

It's as simple as you can get.

I love it!

Career Change

A couple of weeks ago, I let you guys know that I was searching for another job....in case the one where I'm at now disappears with the dwindling federal budget.

I figured, since drive-thrus are all the rage right now, I might be hitting up one of those establishments for a job.

But I wouldn't be comfortable working within Laredo city limits. It's not that I know a lot of people, well I don't know them but they know me, so I'm hightailing it to the south....no, not south Laredo, farther south.

I'm gonna put an app at this joint.

Rio Bravo is where it's at, baby!

See-Saws in the Barrio

A fun way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon. Now we all know what we can do with all those tires littering our fair city....

Los Lamerssssss!!!!!

Ya tan ready???  Games are supposed to start next week...

Quien invita?!!!

El Caminito

We'd wake up in the morning, in our three-room home. More often than not, especially during the summers, the windows would be open by the time we'd wake up. We'd stretch and yawn on our full-size beds...that were usually shared with two or three other people. Our bare feet would touch the floor, our linoleum covered pisos, and we'd rush off in search of Mom and her scrumptious homemade flour tortillas.

She's usually let us sit in front of our 24" TV (this was in '87) and we'd catch the morning cartoons. After the tacos of frijol con chorizo, without bathing or combing our hair, we'd rush out the back door; before Mom could throw us in the shower. We'd run, barefoot, down this lil passage way. It connected our lot with my grandmother's property and we'd run over and paste our faces on her kitchen screen door and shout, "Hi, Grandma!!!!"

When I was a kid, I ran this caminito at least seven times a day. Most of the time it was more, way more. One of my uncles would make fun of us, saying that every morning, he could hear us scurrying over to Grandma's house.

It was those times when Dad would sweep the dirt in order to set up the battleground for carnica wars. Those times when we'd play with dirt just cuz we had nothing else to do...but we were never bored. Those days when shoes were really only necessary for school and unpaved roads didn't stop our endless games of freeze tag. Those days when laughter was sincere and genuine and bitterness was still a worlds away.

If only the passageway could be like a time machine, and take us back to the days when having dirt in between ur toes wasn't gross or annoying. I guess the passageway still serves as some sort of time machine, even if it's only in my mind.