Even though I never got an actual interview from The Island Nation of Dana, I had my agents sneak over to her site and snag this "Firsts" page. Then, my Public Relations people filled it out for me. To be honest, I haven't even looked at it.

Firsts.

First car: It was '98 Mercury Tracer. According to the manual, the color was "mocha." *(Thanks for catching my error, Donovan.)

First date: An eigth-grade dance with a girl named Jenny.

First real kiss: Jenny

First break-up: Jenny. (That month was a romantic whirlwind.)

First job: Wendy's Old Fashioned Burgers. I worked there for an entire month. Oh man, it was sweet. "Hey, I'm frying up some more chicken nuggets!" "More nuggets? Man, the customers have been ordering a lot of those lately." "Um, yeah, the customers, right."

First screen name: Private Gurg, a throw-back to my brief stint in the Army.

First self purchased album: Cartoon's Greatest Hits, baby.

First funeral: I didn't know the guy.

First pets: My first pet was a teddy-bear hamster named "Homer."

First piercing/tattoo: The Bat-symbol on my left shoulder on Mother's Day, the day after I became 18. Garrett Sirota was there. He videotaped it. Garrett: "Any last words as an un-inked man?" Me: "I heart ink."

First True Love: You, the public, of course!

First enemy: The first? It was a whole gang of them. In second grade, I would mock and belittle them in class where it was safe, and then spend recess running away from all of them. But they started it. This established a trend that lasted until my sophomore year of high-school. I can remember the exact moment: I was in English class, and some guy was swaggering around the room. The teacher hadn't arrived. He announced that he "needed a pencil," and took mine off my desk. I was leaning back in my seat, and my narrowed eyes met his. He put the pencil back, mumbled something about "not really needing it," and went and sat down. If he had looked at me then, he would have seen only the surprise on my face.

First big trip: I travelled all over Mexico with Miguel when I was ten and he was 12 to visit the obscene amounts of family we have down there.

First musician you remember hearing in your house: The earliest song I remember is "Las Mananitas," which my Dad would play to wake us up the morning of our birthdays.

Lasts.

Last cigarette: Two weeks ago.

Last big car ride: 24-hour Six Flags Road Trip with Alan S., Andrew N., Lauren R., and Kate R.

Last kiss: The other night.

Last good cry: Good cry? About a two years ago, the family dog, Speak, attacked my sister while we were in the backyard. He just started biting her arm and her hand. Without thinking, I grabbed the 70-pound dog by the throat, lifted him into the air, and slammed him into the ground on his back. I stood hunched over him, my hands still wrapped around his throat. He submitted, not struggling or trying to bite me. My dog knew me pretty well, and I honestly think he knew in that instant that if he tried to fight me, I would kill him with my bare hands. There was a roaring in my ears, and I from somewhere far away I could hear my sister sobbing hysterically as she ran into the house. Donaldo, my younger brother, came out to see what was going on and he found me still pinning the dog down. I pried my fingers from Speak's neck and he just got up and trotted off to another part of the yard like nothing had happened.
Then my body had feeling again and I felt my hands shaking violently and tears starting to well up in my eyes. I had never been so enraged before. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. Donaldo noticed, of course. "Are you all right, man?" he asked softy. "I almost killed that dog," I managed to choke out as I walked past him into the house.

Last movie seen: Fern Gully. Hey, there isn't much to do at 3 in the morning on a Thursday night.

Last beverage drank: A Capri-Sun.

Last food consumed: Rice, beans, a tortilla, and a hot dog at my parent's house. That was almost 24 hours ago. I should eat.

Last crush: Michelle Branch. You mean the last person who has had a crush on me, right? If anyone knows Michelle Branch, though, let her know that my car is running and she won't have to drive if she wants to go out. Unless she wants to of course.

Last phone call: My new employers, letting them know that yes, I will be there on Monday at 4:00.

Last time showered: Yesterday night.

Last shoes worn: Sandals.

Last cd played: Burned CD of Nintendo songs.

Last item bought: A starter for my car.

Last annoyance: Myself.

Last disappointment: Myself.

Last time wanting to die: Day after my 21st birthday.

Last time scolded: My older brother Miguel who lives with our parents wrote a note on the fridge at my parent's house that said, "Dad, Memo, Luis, Do your own dishes!" (I'm Memo, by the way.) I wrote on it, "Take care of your own daughter," since he has been known to just go to sleep or go out and let my already very busy mother care for his one-year old daughter for hours at a time. He didn't actually see it, but when he heard that I had written that he called me and started to scold me. I was already irritated, so I wasn't polite about explaining that he put the "ass" in "assume." "I never said I wasn't going to do the dishes." Which is true, I would do my own dishes. I just figured that as long as we were all giving orders...
I'm not one of those people that will automatically not do something just because someone tells me to, but I don't like giving anyone the illusion that they can control my actions.

Last shirt worn: Simpson's shirt with Bart on it saying, "Gross, man!" It's thirteen years old, too small, and not even a real catch-phrase, but I like it.

Last website visited: Beno's sordid tale of sin and javelinas.