by Hector Alamo, Jr. Saturday night was long. Needless to say, I ended up talking the long way home from the bar, the way that involves walking. And even though the walk seemed longer and rougher than the night had been, something really valuable came out of my little sunrise trek.
by Hector Alamo, Jr. People who try to tell you what to say or how to say things really get under my skin. You use the word shit, and they jump in their seats. You say “fuck” and they wince, as if innocent word like “fuck” ever hurt anybody. What’s America’s obsession with curtailing the so-called potty mouth?