Who the hell is El Cucuy?

¡Ya Regrese! What does that even mean? Spanish isn’t my native tongue so I had to ask someone. In the Spanish, that means, I’m back! Great, back from what? I’m so confused. It seems like it has been ages now but evidently it’s only been a short while since, “El Cucuy’s” ugly mug started showing up on Muni busses all over the city. This advertisement drives me loco. I don’t know if it’s his bright yellow East Bay clubbing shirt, or just the forced look of happiness stretched across his face, but this is the worst picture I’ve ever seen. Was that really Cucuy’s best foto?

I always think about that when I’m surfing the personals on the internet. I, of course, do it for sheer entertainment value and would never meet a person from online. Again. Regardless of my cyber proclivities, I always have to ask myself when looking at an online profile, was this the best picture of yourself? Because when I make my online profile I take time to find a really presentable picture. You know, airbrush it, and really make it shine. But some people, it’s like, ok, now this is a camera, and this little device is going to freeze an image of you in history for ever and ever. So, oh I don’t know, maybe smile, or be cute or something. But some of these pictures are just embarrassing. And since embarrassment is the only feeling you can actually feel for someone else, most of my time spent online leaves me feeling embarrassed. And now my commute suffers as well.

Why can’t I be on a bus advertisement anyway?

I think the problem really starts with me. It’s like when you see an ugly couple walking down the street. One side of you is really happy that the uglies have paired up and found love, and the other side is like, “well fuck, I’m single, but these creatures somehow managed to find each other.” Sort of makes you question where you stand. But really, all I want is to be on a billboard, it’s not a lot to ask, and then, just when you thought you were cute, El Cucuy swishes by on the 19 Polk. Give me a break; if he can be on a bus, then I can be on a bus.

I thought I had gotten over my problem with El Cucuy. Seems silly. I don’t even know the guy. Maybe he’s really super fantastico! I may never learn the answer to my quandaries. I did try however, to do a bit of research on Mr. Cucuy. The only thing that I can put together is that, he’s back and on the radio en la mañana, when ever that is. But other than that, there is not a whole lot of information on the man. So I urge my community to find some stuff on El Cucuy and send it my way. Most importantly, if you have another picture of him, I would love to see it. At this point, I’m dying to see him in a different outfit. So much so that I might even print the picture, cut it out, glue a popsicle stick to the back of it and hold it up in front of every muni that passes by.

Es todo.

Don't fall into the fire!

Somehow I managed to convince Jared to pick me up on Saturday morning. This is the second Saturday in a row that Jared has come to pick me up from what can only be described as suspicious activity. That however, is beside the point. You must also understand that I have no qualms with stating that I conned Jared into picking me up because he is the one friend I can count on to NOT read this blog. Really I can say whatever I want about him. I'm not sure he even knows the site address. Regardless, there he was at my rescue on a sunny Saturday morning at the cross street of Gurerro and really far away. I had crashed at Sabrina's house with Gunita the night before. For those of you who have gone out with Gunita and Sabrina for an event filled night of partying in San Francisco, then you can understand why I say, "I was rescued" the next morning.

Jared told me that he would only pick me up if I went camping with him and Darren. I really needed a ride home, and after the night, Big Basin seemed like a minor pit stop along the way to my apartment. Jared tried to convince me that I could last another day and night in the clothes that I was currently wearing all so he didn't have to take me home to get my things. I helped him to understand what I might smell like the following morning and before I could finish I was on my way to my house. I took a quick shower, grabbed a sweatshirt, fleece pants, and my ipod and we were off to the store to pick up our nights food.

We went to the Castro Safeway to pick up our supplies. Every self respecting gay man knows that even if it's five miles out of the way, you still do your grocery shopping at the Castro Safeway. Darren turned into some sort of lieutenant general army man yeller type telling us all of the things that he had on his list and the best way to get them quickly and efficiently. It was Saturday, so I was hung-over. I responded, "I don't know what the hell it is you need, but I'm going to get all of the things that I need, like wine, steak, and chocolate, and then we can meet up and talk about your little list." I did what most people do when they go to the grocery store. I went to Starbucks. Jared shouted an order at me as he tore away with our shopping cart.

By the time I had actually picked up both of my coffee's I found Darren wandering down an isle. "did you get your stuff? I'm all done," he said proudly. "what? I just got my coffee?" I said in puzzlement. "I haven't started my shopping yet." Darren was beginning to realize that the cloud I was walking around in was going to slow him down. I floated to another isle. "oooh, look what I found, gummy bears." By then, the boys just pulled me out to the car. Jared said with a whimper, "will you drive?" Oh that's safe, I thought, and hopped in the front seat.

We were on our way up the 280 toward mount camping land or whatever the hell it was called. I was exhausted. Here we had a full day of shopping in the castro Safeway and now I'm expected to drive for hours and hours up the 280 which is like the worlds worst freeway. Then we pull off on some unknown highway that was discovered by the donner party on their way over to Paramount's Great America, and poof... we were at Big Basin.

Naturally, we weren't there for ten minutes before I was asked by a park ranger to "slow down." He gave me some nonsense excuse about children running in the street. I decided to mock him and drove one mile per hour to our camp site. This of course is just my opinion, but if children are stupid enough to play in the middle of the road where they see lots of cars, then they deserve to be hit. Crossing a street is like Russian Roulette for a child, this is something they must learn at an early age.

We arrived at site 126. Site 126 was basically a two foot by two foot piece of land next to a dumpster. We headed back to the ranger station some time later after scouting out all of the acceptable camping spots. We wound up at spot number 50. Totally a choice spot. We unpacked the car. I decided that if I was going to camp that I should really assert myself, so I put up the tent all by myself. This was not an easy up tent somewhat like Jared at the power exchange, this was a six pole tent. It was more like Jared in Vallejo.

I wasn't even half way finished with the tent before Jared had sparked up a doobie. I don't quite understand pot smoking. It makes me stupid, but some how Jared always gets me to do it. I took a couple of hits. Things sort of get hazy from here, but what I do remember is that I almost fell out of my chair and into the fire. Ouch, that would have hurt. Some how I managed to cook a steak and salad. I was impressed. Darren made us a good 675 smores. We all fell asleep together with chocolate in the corners of our mouths.

The boys left me with a sleeping bag that was so thin it looked like you could fold it up and put it in the pocket of your tuxedo. Darren had a luxurious air mattress and Jared had this yoga mat looking thing to go underneath his sleeping bag. I had nothing. Jared wouldn't share his pad with me. That sounds like I just got my first period. Anyway... Darren was kind enough to let me share his air mattress. I later pushed him off all together and stretched out. I find I sleep better when I stretch out anyway. Then, in the middle of the night, Jared looked at me and said, "come keep me warm, I'm cold," to which I responded, "fuck off," and promptly fell back asleep.

The next morning I slept in while the boys (Darren) made breakfast. We had chocolate chip pancakes with bacon and orange juice. It was a wonderful way to start the day. Then we packed up all of our gear and headed home Sunday morning. I almost cried when I got my cell phone signal back. It was really the same kind of thrill that you get the first time you see Disneyland from the freeway.

Darren insisted that we stop at Fry's Electronics on the way home. By the time we got home we had not only our camping gear, but a new printer, wireless key board and some other miscellaneous items. We dropped off Darren, and then Jared dropped me off. I was finally home. I left work on Friday and headed home; I didn't make it until Sunday afternoon.