Border Control FRQ style

Since i love all my latino peoples, trust this has nothing to do with the US-Mexico Border or immigration. This is all about FRQ

i'm closing my borders. no entry. i have no choice, seriously. you don't understand me. you ever have a guess at your home and within the first 30 minutes they become unwelcome. yes, unwelcome. no, i am not talking about that uncouth person who came by during the drought of 2006. nor the person who gets too comfortable all of a sudden, like so you are just gonna leave that plate on the floor.? and you dogged all of the juice. nor my personal favorite, "she came out of the kitchen, with megabowl in hand, filled to the brim with Cap'n Crunch with Crunchberries. and i responded, did she eat with a big serving spoon too. pleas forgive me, i have digressed like always.

i am talking about someone who likes you yet you dont feel quite the same. and it doesnt become evident until they come to your house. now sometimes you dont know this upon their arrival. if you read this, you can assume that i step away from the norm. needless to say, my house reflects that. i have books, magazines, pictures, cd's, albums etc, that express all of my diverse interests. so at times, i have an unlucky guest who gets so enthralled in me and all my curiousities. now, this should be a good thing. oh and at times it is. but with the last batch of women i have met over the last two years, it has been all bad. this home visit is usually the kiss of death for them. as they plunge deeper and into me, the disparity widens and widens. i try to mask my growing contempt as they question and the excitement grows in their eyes. sometimes they even get giddy.

for the time being, i am reinforcing the wall that keeps you from my house. its going deeper and higher like the US-Mexico Border. i am steeping up overlapping patrols and putting more munitions to keep you out. sorry but i have no choice.

and the one line that will get you permanently banished from Quentin Street, is when are you gonna cook for me? just because I have a few cookbooks, in no way entitles you to dine at my house. nor should you think that i will cook for you. that has to be earned. seriously, do you know how many stray women i could seduce by cooking something new or different? you gotta earn that sweetie. i shouldn't even say that. you need to be the chosen one, like a golden child or something. i know i want some of that bad bush but i can't come off of that. i gotta like myself afterward, and that sinks the ship. every man has a code, standards, something.

plus i live in an old house. the kitchen is isolated and retains all heat. at times i want to cook with only an apron and boxers. and thats not quite sanitary. once again, you must retain some standards.