Black Lives Really Don't Matter

I was the white-skinned member in a black church through most of university. Not because I was making a human rights statement. I just liked the blues-based music better than the country stuff across town. Most of the women I've loved have been Latina. Not because of a fetish. Just because I've often lived in places where the hotties within reach were brownies. I care about skin color about as much as I care about eye color. The lack of racism in my heart isn't because I'm righteous. I think I've committed every other sin except orgies, and that's just because no one ever invited me.

Cracker Lives Matter In Lima Peru

Nirvana is to be experienced rather than defined, except to say that the airport in Lima is its exact opposite. Gray drizzly clouds block all window views of the natural world. Glaring florescent lights thrust a salty, greasy, sugary world of McDonald's, Papa John's, and Dunkin' Donuts into a traveler's throbbing brain. Peruvian women do little to restore my bliss. Many faces suggest human/llama crossbreeding, while many bodies offer a plus-size-version of Daddy Yankee's "Shaky Shaky" video. An overpriced taxi to the cheezy-sounding Nirvana Hotel seems like a ticket to paradise for me.