bg/ish: How To Evade A Pit Maneuver
I get a lot of (unsolicited) emails from friends, aquantences and former co-workers in my Inbox on the daily. (Say, me say many money, say me say many many many) Pretty much next to nothing ever gets any further than that, let alone pushed out thru this blog. I'm posting this video, though, for the following reasons...
- It's a police chase in Orange County
- I'm familiar with every stretch of road it happens on
- It's a Scion xB, which enables me to fantasize that it's my brother and your boy Duyu Nohu giving the proverbial "two fingers up" to those filthy cops
- And I know, what many of you may not, that your boy and mine ag loves himself some pit maneuvers
Of course, the pit maneuver doesn't always have a 100% success rate, as is evident here. This leaves the cops with no other option than to pull out the rarely seen outside of pornographic videos, "Let's slam this bitch from every angle at the same time" maneuver.
If only they'd used it when the crazy woman driving decided to use the "Get out of the car to curse out the cops only to leave it in drive and then have to run it down and jump back in a moving car" maneuver.
thanks Kai-Chun
Monday, August 31, 2009
bg/ish: I'm Addicted
I'm calling for an investigation.
This may be a cry for help.
I can't walk away. No matter how bad I feel in the end, the euphoria of consumption is enough to override all prevailing logic. I'd kicked this terrible habit once before, but it's slowly crept back into my life and may be in full swing once again. No matter how scummy I feel on my way to pick it up, or how certain I am of the ensuing misery that will follow once it's all passed through my system, I continue to use.
Or rather, eat.
Damn you Del Taco. What the fuck are you putting in those spicy chicken burritos, those chili cheese fries, or those quesadillas that keeps me fienin' like Dennis and Dee for the crack rock?!?
I suppose I've progressed a little. I'm no longer in denial. When I lived in Orange County, I chalked it up to convenience. After all, I lived on 18th Street, and Del Taco was on 17th Street. Oh but it was so much more than that. I'd sit in that filthy drive thru no matter how long it took, and at any time of the day or night to get my hands on that vile sustenance.
After moving to San Francisco, my fast-food intake dropped by at least 90%! Ah, I was free for months, only to discover the one, single Del Taco in the city was a mere block and a half away from my job. I held out for a while, choosing only to eat the finer offerings of the Financial District. Soon, however, poverty set in, and I knew the one place I could turn to for a lunch under $3 was only a short walk away.
"Just a taste", I thought, which is about as effective as a deterrent as the "Just the tip" philosophy. It wasn't long before the days of poverty had passed, and I still found myself craving the sub-human offerings wrapped in those warm tortillas. What was initially a 'once every couple months' outing has now become a 'couple of times a week' affair. Personally, I'm disgusted, and yet I can't pull myself away.
Now, I'm nowhere near the degenerate level I'd reached living behind the miserable Orange Curtain, but as with any addiction, it's a slippery slope. So here it is, a Monday afternoon, I just got paid, and can eat any delectable lunch my filthy heart desires, and I've got nothing but Del Taco on my mind.
Can we figure out what exactly is going on in those dingy kitchens? Is there some secret ingredient? Some highly addictive additive? Has anyone looked into what makes those fries so damn tasty? I need help, damn it! Is anyone planning an intervention on my behalf?
I'm staring this addiction in the face, and if you don't believe me, as soon as I hit "Publish Post" I'm running over to Market Street and swooping up a brown bag of the nonsense they're offering up. I'll surely be worse off for it, but I just don't care.
I'm addicted.
I'm calling for an investigation.
This may be a cry for help.
I can't walk away. No matter how bad I feel in the end, the euphoria of consumption is enough to override all prevailing logic. I'd kicked this terrible habit once before, but it's slowly crept back into my life and may be in full swing once again. No matter how scummy I feel on my way to pick it up, or how certain I am of the ensuing misery that will follow once it's all passed through my system, I continue to use.
Or rather, eat.
Damn you Del Taco. What the fuck are you putting in those spicy chicken burritos, those chili cheese fries, or those quesadillas that keeps me fienin' like Dennis and Dee for the crack rock?!?
I suppose I've progressed a little. I'm no longer in denial. When I lived in Orange County, I chalked it up to convenience. After all, I lived on 18th Street, and Del Taco was on 17th Street. Oh but it was so much more than that. I'd sit in that filthy drive thru no matter how long it took, and at any time of the day or night to get my hands on that vile sustenance.
After moving to San Francisco, my fast-food intake dropped by at least 90%! Ah, I was free for months, only to discover the one, single Del Taco in the city was a mere block and a half away from my job. I held out for a while, choosing only to eat the finer offerings of the Financial District. Soon, however, poverty set in, and I knew the one place I could turn to for a lunch under $3 was only a short walk away.
"Just a taste", I thought, which is about as effective as a deterrent as the "Just the tip" philosophy. It wasn't long before the days of poverty had passed, and I still found myself craving the sub-human offerings wrapped in those warm tortillas. What was initially a 'once every couple months' outing has now become a 'couple of times a week' affair. Personally, I'm disgusted, and yet I can't pull myself away.
Now, I'm nowhere near the degenerate level I'd reached living behind the miserable Orange Curtain, but as with any addiction, it's a slippery slope. So here it is, a Monday afternoon, I just got paid, and can eat any delectable lunch my filthy heart desires, and I've got nothing but Del Taco on my mind.
Can we figure out what exactly is going on in those dingy kitchens? Is there some secret ingredient? Some highly addictive additive? Has anyone looked into what makes those fries so damn tasty? I need help, damn it! Is anyone planning an intervention on my behalf?
I'm staring this addiction in the face, and if you don't believe me, as soon as I hit "Publish Post" I'm running over to Market Street and swooping up a brown bag of the nonsense they're offering up. I'll surely be worse off for it, but I just don't care.
I'm addicted.
bg/ish: Weekend: Clothing Optional
With August coming to and end and September only a day away, it's safe to say that it's officially Summer here in San Francisco. Temperatures reached the 90's on Friday afternoon, and by the time I got off work and made it to Dolores Park the scene was in full swing and it was obvious that nobody planned on going home anytime soon. We stayed in the park until around 10 p.m., but as far as I could tell people were still there until at least 5 a.m.
It was just one of those insanely warm San Francisco nights where nobody wants to be indoors. We get maybe 4 or 5 of those a year. A certain madness seems to take people over and drive them to boisterous fits of drinking and roaming the streets into the early morning hours. Personally, I just didn't want to have any clothes on.
I was up on Saturday morning at 7 a.m., and it felt like it could have been noon. Or 3 p.m. Bright and hot. Not a cloud in the sky. After a large breakfast and a relaxing smoking session in a shady spot, we gathered up the usual crew and sped off on our bikes to Baker Beach. The heat was stifling in the Mission, but the closer we got to the water it began to relent a little.
The sand was hot under my feet and the sun was tormenting me from above. I wasted no time in jumping enthusiastically into the ocean. As I swam out past the breaking waves and floated on my back I couldn't help but feel a bit like Mersault, only there was no Marie with me and I never got around to killing an Arab.
The view from Baker Beach is absolutely amazing. As I swam in the water, when my thoughts weren't on surviving the assault of waves, they were solely on the majesty of the view...
Of course, Baker Beach is also a nude beach, so at any given moment, your view might be something closer to this...
As it was, your boy bg managed to keep all of his clothes on, much to the disappointment of thousands.
After a ride back to the Lower Haight and a massive burger at Memphis Minnie's BBQ Joint I crashed out at around 7:30 and wasn't to be heard from again until 7:30 a.m. on Sunday morning.
Sunday turned out to be slightly overcast and a bit windy, but I managed to get in a decent bike ride, and stopped by AT&T Park to catch some of the Giants sweep over the Rockies from the free viewing area at McCovey cove. Topped the night off with a slice from Deja Vu and a glass of wine at a friends house. All in all, your boy bg isn't complaining one bit.
As of this morning it's back to 60 degrees in the city and the heat of the weekend is a forgotten memory that seems like it could have been two days or two months ago. I know we'll have at least one more of these days (hopefully on a weekend) before our "summer" is over.
As always, when you're looking to have some good clean fun in the heat, clothing is optional.
With August coming to and end and September only a day away, it's safe to say that it's officially Summer here in San Francisco. Temperatures reached the 90's on Friday afternoon, and by the time I got off work and made it to Dolores Park the scene was in full swing and it was obvious that nobody planned on going home anytime soon. We stayed in the park until around 10 p.m., but as far as I could tell people were still there until at least 5 a.m.
It was just one of those insanely warm San Francisco nights where nobody wants to be indoors. We get maybe 4 or 5 of those a year. A certain madness seems to take people over and drive them to boisterous fits of drinking and roaming the streets into the early morning hours. Personally, I just didn't want to have any clothes on.
I was up on Saturday morning at 7 a.m., and it felt like it could have been noon. Or 3 p.m. Bright and hot. Not a cloud in the sky. After a large breakfast and a relaxing smoking session in a shady spot, we gathered up the usual crew and sped off on our bikes to Baker Beach. The heat was stifling in the Mission, but the closer we got to the water it began to relent a little.
The sand was hot under my feet and the sun was tormenting me from above. I wasted no time in jumping enthusiastically into the ocean. As I swam out past the breaking waves and floated on my back I couldn't help but feel a bit like Mersault, only there was no Marie with me and I never got around to killing an Arab.
The view from Baker Beach is absolutely amazing. As I swam in the water, when my thoughts weren't on surviving the assault of waves, they were solely on the majesty of the view...
Of course, Baker Beach is also a nude beach, so at any given moment, your view might be something closer to this...
As it was, your boy bg managed to keep all of his clothes on, much to the disappointment of thousands.
After a ride back to the Lower Haight and a massive burger at Memphis Minnie's BBQ Joint I crashed out at around 7:30 and wasn't to be heard from again until 7:30 a.m. on Sunday morning.
Sunday turned out to be slightly overcast and a bit windy, but I managed to get in a decent bike ride, and stopped by AT&T Park to catch some of the Giants sweep over the Rockies from the free viewing area at McCovey cove. Topped the night off with a slice from Deja Vu and a glass of wine at a friends house. All in all, your boy bg isn't complaining one bit.
As of this morning it's back to 60 degrees in the city and the heat of the weekend is a forgotten memory that seems like it could have been two days or two months ago. I know we'll have at least one more of these days (hopefully on a weekend) before our "summer" is over.
As always, when you're looking to have some good clean fun in the heat, clothing is optional.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
chair: t(h)ree
one of my first and fondest memories of dw is when we both discovered our love of trees. i forgot how or when this bit of info came out, but i do remember handing him a 20$ bill for a little baggie in front of the vending machine in the breakroom of our workplace. i rarely get to just sit and session with the dude though, since when the trio gets together the goal is usually to drink until someone projectiles vomit (ahem ag).
anyway...i smoked last night for the first time in a long time (a week! haha). admist all this legal trouble, i'm being super cautious with everything. gone are the days of stashing my pink pouch in the center console of my car and smoking whenever, wherever the hell i feel like it. california, i hate you but love you at the same time. fuck you for taunting the availability and ease in my face and fuck me for not being able to take advantage of it. well, i just got some o jeezy or something and i plan on being very high up in the clouds because i'm pretty sure i have to take a longg break when the gavel hits the wood in november.
here's what i've been listening to when i'm spacing.
oh how i miss trees.
one of my first and fondest memories of dw is when we both discovered our love of trees. i forgot how or when this bit of info came out, but i do remember handing him a 20$ bill for a little baggie in front of the vending machine in the breakroom of our workplace. i rarely get to just sit and session with the dude though, since when the trio gets together the goal is usually to drink until someone projectiles vomit (ahem ag).
anyway...i smoked last night for the first time in a long time (a week! haha). admist all this legal trouble, i'm being super cautious with everything. gone are the days of stashing my pink pouch in the center console of my car and smoking whenever, wherever the hell i feel like it. california, i hate you but love you at the same time. fuck you for taunting the availability and ease in my face and fuck me for not being able to take advantage of it. well, i just got some o jeezy or something and i plan on being very high up in the clouds because i'm pretty sure i have to take a longg break when the gavel hits the wood in november.
here's what i've been listening to when i'm spacing.
oh how i miss trees.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
agIsh: "The Jerk Store called..."
...and they said they're running out of the guys at Sony Computer Entertainment and Rocksteady Studios.
The 120GB PS3 Slim is out this Thursday while Batman: Arkham Asylum came out today. At a time when I really shouldn't be buying anything else, I'm seriously considering dropping cash for these two lovely items. Anyone who knows me knows I'll do anything for Batman.
Anything.
Yes, even that.
*weeps*
nv@ag
...and they said they're running out of the guys at Sony Computer Entertainment and Rocksteady Studios.
The 120GB PS3 Slim is out this Thursday while Batman: Arkham Asylum came out today. At a time when I really shouldn't be buying anything else, I'm seriously considering dropping cash for these two lovely items. Anyone who knows me knows I'll do anything for Batman.
Anything.
Yes, even that.
*weeps*
nv@ag
bg/ish: "We're the stars of CCTV"
I'd made reference to the day we bombed the grassy hills of Dolores Park in this blog before, but I admit I quite surprised to head over to Mission Mission today and see your boy bg standing atop the park next to that little kart of death.
As it turns out, some women sitting on the bench behind us were getting some of the madness on video. It's not a terribly exciting video, although Chewie almost gets rubbed out, and although my crash goes mostly unseen, it's apparent by the reaction of the onlookers.
Aptly titled "Life Size Pinewood Derby", enjoy this brief clip of our insanity.
I'd made reference to the day we bombed the grassy hills of Dolores Park in this blog before, but I admit I quite surprised to head over to Mission Mission today and see your boy bg standing atop the park next to that little kart of death.
As it turns out, some women sitting on the bench behind us were getting some of the madness on video. It's not a terribly exciting video, although Chewie almost gets rubbed out, and although my crash goes mostly unseen, it's apparent by the reaction of the onlookers.
Aptly titled "Life Size Pinewood Derby", enjoy this brief clip of our insanity.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
chair: accidents
i’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life. i’m sure it’s all a part of growing up and learning by trial and error, but right now the ramifications of several bad decisions made in the span of a few hours is eating me up.
given my lifestyle, it was only a matter of time before i joined the rest of my 20-something friends and acquaintances in the dui’d group. i just wish it wasn’t coupled with an accident and a felony posession charge. i don’t know if i can spend more time going over what exactly happened. moving forward seems to be the appropriate path here but it’s hard. a lot of people are concerned about me and assisting me in so many ways and even though it’s cheesy and cliche–it is times like these that i realize how loved i am. it also makes me feel like shit for making so many people worry about me.
i’m meeting the first of many lawyers today. he’s asking for 6k upfront. i have no idea how i am going to come up with the money. asking family is out of the question. they have been calling me and i’ve been avoiding the calls, ignoring the texts. extremely selfish on my part perhaps but with my sister’s wedding and mom’s health looming in the very near future, i feel like i can’t let them know. it’s not so much that i’m worried they will judge me; that’s inevitable. i just don’t know…
p.s. sorry to have been mia only to return with a non pub-ish entry. just wanted to let my boys know i'm ok...
Friday, August 14, 2009
bg/ish: Ariel Diaz on Tumblr
I've linked to some of his work before, and now he's got some of his art up at tumblr. The kid has a cutty style. Enjoy.
Ariel Diaz on tumblr.
I've linked to some of his work before, and now he's got some of his art up at tumblr. The kid has a cutty style. Enjoy.
Ariel Diaz on tumblr.
bg/ish: Chelsea FC 2009/10 Preview
Nothing less than a title will do this year. Well, I suppose I feel that way every year. But this year, seriously, the Blues need that silverware. They've lived in the filthy red shadow of Man U for the last 3 seasons now, and last year was even worse as that whiny bitch Rafa and his Liverpool scumbags somehow edged them out for second.
A win in the Community Sheild was a nice start. My boys will be looking to come out of the gate strong at home against Hull. Welcome to the Premiere League, Jozy.
New head man Carlos Ancelotti arrives with both his tactics and his pimp hand strong. Not a lot of new signings, but bringing in Yuri Zhirkov on the left makes me downright giddy.
The attack remains strong and experienced with Drogba and Anelka leading the charge.
The defense is as strong as ever, as newly rich Man City's attempts to pry The Captain of Chelsea, Captain of England, John Terry away failed miserably. His pairing with Ricardo Carvalho should prove to be one of the toughest in the BPL, aided by Cole on the left and Bosingwa on the right.
The biggest boost though, in my humble opinion, is the return of my boy and yours, the unstoppable force, the unmovable object known as Michael Essien! After shredding his knee last year he brings unmatched quality to the midfield.
Am I a little excited? You could say that. After the ugly exit of The Special One, the dour Avram Grant era, the failure of World Cup winner Scolari, and the magic touch of Guus, it's been a rough three years watching that joyless fuck Fergie and his squad of arrogant chumps at Man U lift that filthy Barclay's Cup every year.
Lampard is pure class. Obi Mikel is growing up. Kalou "don't do coke like Adrian Mutu, Mutu!" Ballack, Captain of Germany returns. Deco stuck around. Also back from injury, "he's here, he's there, he's every-fucking-where! Joey Cole!"
This is a classy squad. Let's go unbeaten at the Bridge!
Go Blues!
Nothing less than a title will do this year. Well, I suppose I feel that way every year. But this year, seriously, the Blues need that silverware. They've lived in the filthy red shadow of Man U for the last 3 seasons now, and last year was even worse as that whiny bitch Rafa and his Liverpool scumbags somehow edged them out for second.
A win in the Community Sheild was a nice start. My boys will be looking to come out of the gate strong at home against Hull. Welcome to the Premiere League, Jozy.
New head man Carlos Ancelotti arrives with both his tactics and his pimp hand strong. Not a lot of new signings, but bringing in Yuri Zhirkov on the left makes me downright giddy.
The attack remains strong and experienced with Drogba and Anelka leading the charge.
The defense is as strong as ever, as newly rich Man City's attempts to pry The Captain of Chelsea, Captain of England, John Terry away failed miserably. His pairing with Ricardo Carvalho should prove to be one of the toughest in the BPL, aided by Cole on the left and Bosingwa on the right.
The biggest boost though, in my humble opinion, is the return of my boy and yours, the unstoppable force, the unmovable object known as Michael Essien! After shredding his knee last year he brings unmatched quality to the midfield.
Am I a little excited? You could say that. After the ugly exit of The Special One, the dour Avram Grant era, the failure of World Cup winner Scolari, and the magic touch of Guus, it's been a rough three years watching that joyless fuck Fergie and his squad of arrogant chumps at Man U lift that filthy Barclay's Cup every year.
Lampard is pure class. Obi Mikel is growing up. Kalou "don't do coke like Adrian Mutu, Mutu!" Ballack, Captain of Germany returns. Deco stuck around. Also back from injury, "he's here, he's there, he's every-fucking-where! Joey Cole!"
This is a classy squad. Let's go unbeaten at the Bridge!
Go Blues!
bg/ish: Barclay's Premier League Kick-off... Nuff Said.
bg/ish: Barclay's Premier League Kick-off Weekend... Nuff Said.
Head on over to ESPN Soccernet for complete coverage.
bg/ish: Barclay's Premier League Kick-off Weekend... Nuff Said.
Head on over to ESPN Soccernet for complete coverage.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
bg/ish: File This Under "Inexplicable"
Really? No, I mean, seriously?!?
So, let me get this straight. We currently live in an age of media where political correctness abounds, and a football player can be heavily criticized for calling himself a "fucking soldier" during a time of war. It's insensitive apparently.
"[Kellen] Winslow took heavy criticism for the rant since many critics felt it was disrespectful to actual soldiers who were serving on duty in the Iraq War, which had started several months before. On November 10, 2003, Winslow issued a written apology for his comments, writing that: "I meant no disrespect to the men and women who have served, or are currently serving, in the Armed Forces. I cannot begin to imagine the magnitude of war or its consequences."
Alright, alright. That's fine. Personally, that all seems a bit silly. But connotation is what it is. So, SFGate and Christie Kieth, please fucking forgive me for my mild annoyance at your liberal use of the words "DISCRIMINATION" and "COLOR BARRIER"...
...in reference to fucking dogs! Black dogs! Fuck!
Let me walk you through this...
A glance at the front page of SFGate today led me to this:
Um. Ok. That's odd. So I clicked the link:
Color barrier? Really? Is this a joke? I mean, I realize this article isn't about race or racial struggles, but, doesn't it trivialize it? Even slightly? Let's recap briefly. If a football player who calls himself a "fucking soldier" offends people who are sensitive to the plight of US troops in Iraq, then shouldn't referring to black dogs as facing a "color barrier" be considered even slightly offensive? Am I alone on this?
Ok, maybe I'm wrong, but then, why does this reader comment sound to me like the proverbial, "I've got 3 black friends and have even had one of them over my house for dinner!" schtick?...
And someone wouldn't dare make a case for dogs, based on their color, would they? Really?!?!
I'm sure I'm probably making a bigger deal out of this than I should. Call me crazy. I'm sure it's just a twisted case of coincidence that one of today's featured SFGate Staff Blog discusses this:
I think my head just exploded.
Really? No, I mean, seriously?!?
So, let me get this straight. We currently live in an age of media where political correctness abounds, and a football player can be heavily criticized for calling himself a "fucking soldier" during a time of war. It's insensitive apparently.
"[Kellen] Winslow took heavy criticism for the rant since many critics felt it was disrespectful to actual soldiers who were serving on duty in the Iraq War, which had started several months before. On November 10, 2003, Winslow issued a written apology for his comments, writing that: "I meant no disrespect to the men and women who have served, or are currently serving, in the Armed Forces. I cannot begin to imagine the magnitude of war or its consequences."
Alright, alright. That's fine. Personally, that all seems a bit silly. But connotation is what it is. So, SFGate and Christie Kieth, please fucking forgive me for my mild annoyance at your liberal use of the words "DISCRIMINATION" and "COLOR BARRIER"...
...in reference to fucking dogs! Black dogs! Fuck!
Let me walk you through this...
A glance at the front page of SFGate today led me to this:
Um. Ok. That's odd. So I clicked the link:
Color barrier? Really? Is this a joke? I mean, I realize this article isn't about race or racial struggles, but, doesn't it trivialize it? Even slightly? Let's recap briefly. If a football player who calls himself a "fucking soldier" offends people who are sensitive to the plight of US troops in Iraq, then shouldn't referring to black dogs as facing a "color barrier" be considered even slightly offensive? Am I alone on this?
Ok, maybe I'm wrong, but then, why does this reader comment sound to me like the proverbial, "I've got 3 black friends and have even had one of them over my house for dinner!" schtick?...
And someone wouldn't dare make a case for dogs, based on their color, would they? Really?!?!
I'm sure I'm probably making a bigger deal out of this than I should. Call me crazy. I'm sure it's just a twisted case of coincidence that one of today's featured SFGate Staff Blog discusses this:
I think my head just exploded.
Monday, August 10, 2009
agIsh: Flava In Ya Ear
Here's a cool little track I caught on Pandora. Totally random, I have no idea who this guy is but I like this ditty a lot; the video makes it even better! Good start to an unwritten week. His name is James Hunter and the piece is called Carina.
Don't be sad, look up...cuz looking down gives you bad posture.
nv@ag
Here's a cool little track I caught on Pandora. Totally random, I have no idea who this guy is but I like this ditty a lot; the video makes it even better! Good start to an unwritten week. His name is James Hunter and the piece is called Carina.
Don't be sad, look up...cuz looking down gives you bad posture.
nv@ag
Friday, August 07, 2009
bg/ish: Return of the Wolfman
Last Friday the Wolfman rolled through again, with reinforcements. All in all we had a good weekend. Then this week rolled around. Eh...
At any rate, I haven't had anything to say this week, and can't say I do now. So here are a few photos of the peeps. Have a good weekend.
Last Friday the Wolfman rolled through again, with reinforcements. All in all we had a good weekend. Then this week rolled around. Eh...
At any rate, I haven't had anything to say this week, and can't say I do now. So here are a few photos of the peeps. Have a good weekend.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
agIsh: "Cuchi-cuchi!"
I do not believe that Charo (known only as "María Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Moquiere de les Esperades Santa Ana Romanguera y de la Najosa Rasten" by her parents) is capable of aging. She either possesses a gene which stunts her growth at 40 years of age, a gene that scientists must study immediately, or she has made a deal with an evil and powerful entity. If I were a betting man, I'd bet she possesses said "mutant" gene. I swear she looked the same 15 years ago! Although I am not a betting man, I'd bet she was born looking like this.
I do not believe that Charo (known only as "María Rosario Pilar Martínez Molina Moquiere de les Esperades Santa Ana Romanguera y de la Najosa Rasten" by her parents) is capable of aging. She either possesses a gene which stunts her growth at 40 years of age, a gene that scientists must study immediately, or she has made a deal with an evil and powerful entity. If I were a betting man, I'd bet she possesses said "mutant" gene. I swear she looked the same 15 years ago! Although I am not a betting man, I'd bet she was born looking like this.
From left to right: Charo 3 minutes after birth, at 30 years of age, present day.
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