Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dog's Tails

This is a page of wonderful and inspiring things! Everything you see here is something to behold for its beauty, creativity or wisdom. It is never never my intention to trespass on the creativity of another - please let me know if I have and I shall acquiesce or give credit when due.

Rillito Downs

I love my family, and in the last few years I had the pleasure and privilege of experiencing the horse races in Tucson. (I believe now that the county and city have shut down the track which hosted the first races of the season for the whole country). I didn’t know this as a kid; we never went until we (me and my cousins) were adults.

We always entered the dirt parking lot a little hungover from the night before. We would play our favorite music until we pulled into the spot.

It was a run-down looking corrugated tin building with the clubhouse, snack bars, and betting on the second floor. The ground level afforded more freedom: smoking, and better people watching. We would go and my parents and cousins and some friends and aunts and uncles would come to enjoy the social life and gamble on the races.

I didnt really care for the gambling - I always feel like I work to hard to risk my money on a wager even if I had a sure thing feeling. But, it didn’t matter because we could hang out, watch the horses stampede by, drink budlight or shameful margaritas and enjoy the community of family and friends.

And if anyone (Grandpa, Auntie MaryLou or Mardi and Bob, we split the winnings.

Basically the goal was win enough to pay for the par tab….. apparently we often accomplished that.

Here in Samara, there are two fiesta seasons - Xmas through New Years and Easter or (Holy) week.

None of this matters because my point was that We boys to  all make decisions, we can’t always provie a perfectly safe bubble :O


What the hell is it? I’ve been reading the name for a few weeks now, and I haven’t really known exactly from where the etymology is derived… until now. According to my failing memory, every article [and by article I mean snip of gossip blog splooge] in which I’ve encountered the term ascribes it to a hunk of man! My initial understanding was that it is a class of man evolved from the metrosexual - which was basically the first label created to describe straight identifying men who groomed and behaved in a traditionally gay manner.

Okay… so what the hell do I even do with that? From the beginning of the existence of the term metrosexual I thought: Why the fuck can’t men be as “gay” as they fuckin’ please?

Well, they could and they can. Obviously. Nobody of import really gives a damn. Note, however, that looking back at old episodes of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy yields some pretty tacky fashions, but who the shit cares? I don’t.

I’ll get back to the topic at hand. It turns out, according to this Gawker article, that according to the person described as an “occasional anthropologist,” Mark Simpson and who allegedly coined the both of the terms “metrosexual” and “spornosexual”, the new term is …

{Living in Costa Rica can sometimes be a hell for internet access… as I write this, the power surged, cut out and came back three times before stopping for good}

prefixed by a marriage of both “sport” and “porn.” Basically, Spornosexual refers to the buff, gym obsessed, narcissistic, bi-curious (my assessment) dude-bro who spends more time on the body than on the wardrobe.

Well shit. After all this research and wonder… I’ve concluded that it just means a bunch of buff, gym-rat dudes who have fewer sexual barriers.

I really don’t believe the term will permeate like metrosexual, but even if it does… who gives a good god damn at this point in our society and culture if some big group of dudes, across all ethnicities and backgrounds, goes for a particular look or identity as such?

From the modern and global perspective, it seems generic. Basically, every guy in my 10th grade weight training class was a spornosexual before his time.

Throw away the attempt at a new term and embrace the reality that we’re all taking advantage of the fact that nowadays we get to be and fuck whomever we feel we are and want. No dumbass label is needed because no one gives a damn. Straight dude-bro can workout and tweeze his eyebrows all he wants, and gay me can grow out my body hair and sweat my balls off living in Costa Rica all I want. There is no normal. There is no typical. There is no need to further describe the individual human circumstance. Done.

Friday Night

So I work for a school that certifies people to teach English as a foreign language in Costa Rica. Tonight was the graduation of the most recent group of teachers, and we always go out to a bar on the beach here in town owned by our Director’s husband. It’s one of the happening spots in town so Fridays are always exciting. We spent the night drinking and chatting and dancing and the whole bit. Costa Rica won a world cup match against Italy today - it was a total upset and everyone was celebrating. One of my best Tico friends here crashed his motorcycle after too much drinking and a fight with another best friend of mine (his girlfriend). He took off down the beach too drunk to ride and crashed into a huge log that was washed up. Flipped the moto, broke his foot and cut it up. Spent the night helping him push the moto back to the main street to park it and trying with his sister to convince him to leave it in the center of town rather than try and take it back to the house. Now I have about an hour before I get ready to walk to the bus stop to catch the 5:30 AM bus to head to Nicaragua for the weekend with friends to renew our visas. This is my life!