A REALLY BIG FISH

A REALLY BIG FISH: Ray Ramos, the Risk, Safety Manager for Rio Grande State Center in Harlingen, poses with a six foot eight inch Alligator Gar that he and RGSC Housekeeper Ruben Rodriquez caught in the reservoir next to the Rodriquez backyard. The Gar pulled their boat around the reservoir for an hour before it could be landed.

2 comments for “A REALLY BIG FISH

  1. eliot
    July 31, 2010 at 9:26 am

    THE LOVE CHRONICLES: How I Found The Rio Grande Valley’s Horrible Problem…

    Was she told when she was young
    that pain would lead to pleasure
    Did she understand it when they said
    That a man must break his back
    to earn his day of leisure?
    Will she still believe it when he’s dead
    – Girl, The Beatles

    By RICARDO KLEMENT
    Tribune Staff Writer

    HARLINGEN, Texas – In the best novels, those that delve deeply into the soul of their characters, women are best portrayed as either the essence of beauty or the victims of terrible love. Something strains the emotional ties, elongating and testing the string that is romance. Invariably, it is either women availing the sexual in unchained melodies or failing at the test most men assign to the bedroom.

    In the Rio Grande Valley, love is so devalued as to be unrecognizable. And much of the blame must be assigned to the inability to render love, by these local women, we mean. Undressing does not equal sex. Feigning pleasure is as easily distinguishable as is the the woman arriving for a simplistic poking. So, we ask today: Why are Valley women so unskilled in the sexual act? And why are they not as creative as women elsewhere? What is it about the local geography that has them taking it with so much left unsaid and undone?

    Literature is full of great couplings. Indeed, it is said that without sex there is no literature.

    What we get in the RGV in the way of romance more often tahn not is bad romance. The newspapers are full of stories telling of love-gone-wrong, of cheating, of knifing-the-wife, of catching him/her with another partner, of murder, of families torn apart viciously, utterly without mercy.

    The other day, I made love to a Valley woman. It was as unsatisfying an adventure as likely is the majority of local love-making. How can it be, I asked myself, solely slipping it & withdrawing it? How can this woman only wish to pleasure me? Why won’t she verbalize her desires, her needs? She rolled over when asked and popped-up when told. I waited. I waited for her to say it, to say it cooly like that woman I knew in Dallas: “Go down on me…”

    But she never did. This one allowed me no thrill beyond seeing her undress. There is a difference. There is a difference in making love to a woman who knows how and a woman who doesn’t. In the RGV, women have no idea there is so much more to fucking. They don’t know! They make love like women made love in the 1800s, as if with their clothing on, as if believing nakedness left them so vulnerable that to seek the best would somehow bother her male partner.

    And so it went. Me & my female torso on an up & down ride for a few minutes, followed by my string of usual requests, chased by my heightened blood flow, my ultimate jetting into her however-pelased vagina. I had no idea whether she’d gotten what I’d gotten, whether she had climbed the clouds, whether she had roared her lioness best, however-internally, far, far from where I worked it.

    Perhaps I’ll have to go upstate for my next round.

    Lord knows I need gorgeous companionship, not some ditzy, utilitarian doll…

    – 30 –

    [Courtesy of http://www.BrownsvilleHerald-Tribune.blogspot.com]

  2. V. Tinker Shays
    August 1, 2010 at 5:56 pm

    what in the world does that rambling tripe have to do with a couple of guys catching a nice fish?

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