Paul Perez
Bio
Jazz, House music, Star Wars, Biking, and Dubble Bubble are the most simple and free contentments, but Jesus leads me. I'm just a blessed soul with a humorous and spiritual side and everyone needs a gentleman like that around.
Stories (3/0)
The Umpire
My father, Robert Edmundo Perez, of Mexicali, Baja California, Mexico, son of Edmundo Perez, of Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, has come a long way. He wasn’t born under a full moon or surrounded by a large group in celebration of his arrival, but he was brought into this life with genuine love. Love. It seems like a very simple concept that exists in life. Love encompasses many things. A will. A goal. A choice. A desire. Ganas.
By Paul Perez3 years ago in Serve
House Plug
Alex House. I met this young man in grade school. I am not sure if it was fourth or fifth grade but Alex was like me. He was quiet, not much of a talker, but he managed to get by and be noticed among the rest of us of kids. Alex was a tall, slender white boy with long blonde hair. I don’t know why I became friends with him, but he just was. By the way, I was a short slender Mexican looking boy myself. I wasn’t too dark skinned. I was more light skinned on average for a Mexican kid. Alex and I used to play together at recess and we’d do a lot of mischievous things while playing too. One of those things was sneaking to the back restrooms during recess. The back restrooms were not the closet restrooms to the playground area. The back restrooms were on the other side of the school. There was no significant purpose to sneak out to the back restrooms, but it was just something to do. Alex and I thought we were so slick in sneaking to the back restrooms. We even monitored and observed the campus supervisor and waited for the right moment to mill our way across this small elementary school to the other side of the school just for fun. Alex and I would go in short intervals, peering through the different buildings undetected until we both reached the back restrooms. None of us got caught on the way to the back restrooms. We acted as if we were on a covet James Bond type mission. For what? I have no idea.
By Paul Perez3 years ago in Beat
Yo, Han! Why Are You Always Making Me Fit the Falcon?
Han, (translated from Wookiespeak to Galactic Basic by C3P0, human-cyborg, relations) I am tired of you always having me fit the Falcon for you, especially when we land on distant planets en route to our final destination. We blast through the galaxy smuggling goods for a hefty price, and it’s cool that I got half the cut, but when we step off the ramp of the Falcon, the first that comes out of your mouth is “Chewie, see what’s wrong with the Falcon. I’ll have a look around.”
By Paul Perez3 years ago in Futurism
