I have to be honest: I don't really know Omar very well. I know his sister. She was my babysitter when I was ten and now she's a close family friend. I remember meeting Omar a few times when I was that age, and soon after he moved to Boston and I honestly don't think I've seen him in about fifteen years. However, we do correspond on Facebook, and he's a fan of this blog. I also know that he's a pretty cool guy, or at least a lot cooler than his lame-ass attempt at a sister. I've asked him to provide his own introduction:
An intro, eh? I'll say this: it took a lot longer to figure out how to introduce myself than writing the blog. Well, my name is obvious, though my identity is not. It's Omar, if you were just wondering. Hmm. Not sure what to say that would define me. Too many variables and too many numbers dot my life, making it that much harder to pin down what I'm about. Anarchy. A lack of respect for arbitrary traditions and borders. I'm hardly a nihilist, but it's hard to not be cynical. I suppose the only thing I really respect that people do is art. That's how I define myself: an artist. I don't mean painting or writing or anything else that would be considered 'art'. There are no rules in art, and I think that's what I love about it, and why I try to live in a wold with no rules. You know the thing about chaos? It's fair. My name is Omar Cedeno.
Thanks to Omar for his guest post, and readers, please enjoy!
ON WOMEN IN BOSTON
With his usual deadpan-snide-remarks, Max inadvertently invited me to write a guest column on his awesomely named “Last Jew Standing” (which sounds suspiciously like some underground fight club). That being said, I can see why someone would shy away from this grenade of an article. Nothing of what I say is meant in a blanket generalizations.
I used to live on Long Island. First Southampton (which is an entirely different column), and then Brentwood, which is pretty much the ghetto. While there I met all kinds of women. I lucked out because I became very good friends with some women that I still keep in contact with. In October of 2000, I moved to Winthrop, a suburb outside of Boston. Not a bad place, nice people, very safe. Now, I've lived here for almost 10 years, and the girls (and I stress girls) haven't exactly impressed me with their own morality.
There was a former friend who bragged about fucking 3 guys in a 24 hour period. I'll save you the details she shoved in my face (so to speak). I was disgusted. I don't even know why she told me those dirty details. I repeatedly told her to knock it off, but she had to say she was scared of one of the cocks. She then mentioned that her girlfriend was jealous she was in the other room fucking another guy. The orgies and group sex stuff was fucking gross. I'm no prude (my god, I have a porn collection that would put stores to shame), but that went well beyond any acceptable behavior. If you ain't a porn star, don't pull that shit.
Especially when you don't use protection.
It wasn't just that, though. She was a mother of a just-born child. That's totally wrong. This is just the tip of the iceberg of debauchery. Every girl I've met who has been in a relationship (and I mean serious ones) have cheated. And told me about it. I don't get it-- you have something good, why do you want to fuck it up? Duh, men do the same thing, but women are supposedly “the fairer sex.” Bah. I think feminism is at the point in the road where it's dark, and some feel like sleeping around is a feminist idea. I like to think of myself as feminist, but I don't see the connection. If you sleep around, you're gonna get a rep, y'know? Men, same sentiments.
But lets talk about the women I know in Boston.