I equate this web page to an airline vomit bag. Basically, when I can no longer keep down the nausea of my emotional turbulence, this is the place where I expel the good intentions that have soured in my soul.
Please note, there will be foul language in the pages to come. If that offends you, you should probably turn back now.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
So, now the sterile and boring self-introduction. Nah, I’m sure by this time you’ve discovered my name – but what’s in a name (thanks for the segue, Bill)? Some perspective on your author, however, may be helpful in understanding the gobblygook to come.
My age, to intentionally be vague, is at the beginning of, what I believe to be, the latter half of this century-long sentence in this flesh-bag you would call life. Did that sound pessimistic or sarcastic? Good. After all, I need to make an impression on you with only a few paragraphs.
2011 saw the end of a 20-year marriage that left me a better person and the realization that I had more blessings than a man deserves (I know, I was surprised too). The marriage also left me with two fantastic kids (all parents say that, don’t they) but apparently, that wasn’t good enough for me. 2019 will see (or saw) my attempt at grooming the next ex-Mrs. Garcia with two-and-two of her own (two kids and two grandkids). Hey, some people collect bottles of urine, I collect step-children.
Regardless of the fact that at some point during a conversation with me you will call me a dick (or an ass; there seems to be a debate over which I am), I’m still a pretty good person. To know me is to love me, they say. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very modest but if you had the outpouring of friendship I’ve had during the first two turbulent years, post-divorce, you too would have to face the fact that people like you.
My page is called OsoNice – a play on words. Please allow me to explain. I stand 6’3″ and of Hispanic descent. Back in the day (when I had some big-ass eighties hair) they used to call me Oso – Spanish for ‘Bear’. Thereafter came all the variations; Oso Grande, Oso Broke, Oso Tired, etc. I still have fun with the word associations. So there you have it.
I did horrible in English class and always believed I was a complete idiot when it came to writing. It was when I started writing letters of recommendations for employees that I found (good or bad) I was enjoying composing my thoughts. Eventually, something I wrote was read by my wife who encouraged me to keep it up. So now it’s my own little piece of free therapy. I hope you find my writings of interest.
- Welcome Page
- My Father’s Obituary – 2006
- I prayed last night
- I am a beaner
- Three Heads Are NOT Better Than One
- Untiltled Rant In A Drunken Stupor
- Simple Observations of a Simple Mind
- Profession Of My Love For George
- Protected: Emotionally Unavailable (available on request)
- Would’a, Could’a, Should’a
- My Cruel Mistress
- Mirror, Mirror