For some crazy, sexy, cool reason I’m getting paid to blog about penises and stuff. Yeah, I know it’s like a dream come true for me.

I grew up reading Latina magazine ’cause it’s a cool rag about my tribe’s culture, fashion, recipes and stuff. And now, I’m the magazine’s official sex and dating blogger. Laugh. Roll your eyes at me. Be happy for my ass. All I know is that I’m going to write as honestly as I can and hope to connect with readers. And no, I’m not the next Carrie Bradshaw or Julia Allison. I’m like a befuddled Ugly Betty that gets naked with old dudes.

Anyway, I’m not gonna lie. I’m really excited and super stoked about the new gig. HOLLA!

I love you!!! And if you hate me, fuck it. I still <3 your ass!!

Lex

This is my new dance. I’m gonna roll and bounce around like Rick Astley at my big party on May 31!

I made out with a hot British guy last night. It was our first date and in true AlexisT fashion, I belted Pat Benatar’s “Love is a Battlefield” at a karaoke bar as Brit boy watched in stunned amazement (or disgust?)

I opened my first savings account today…at the age of 27.

My old roommate gave me very upsetting news that made me cry on Friday.

I leave you with the muppets since I resemble a Puerto Rican muppet of sorts.

When they come for me I’ll be sitting at my desk with a gun in my hand wearing a bullet-proof vest

It’s my co-worker’s away message and it makes me literally, laugh my chubby face off.

I’m so busy making out and writing but I have a good story about some dude I kissed last week. Man, it’s such a “This Would Only Happen to Alexis” story. Why does crazy shit still happen to me at 27?!?!

I’m headed to Florida this weekend for my grandma’s 90th birthday so I’ll have some time to write all about it. I’m going to be hanging out with 3253463463454365034960390349 Puerto Rican aunts, uncles, cousins, and stuff so I KNOW I’ll want to escape from them to blog. Haha.

Stay tuned MoFo’s — until then, rock yo b-proof vest.

Alexis T.

I wrote a piece for Time Out New York, in which I had to insult New Yorkers! It was scary and people were offended but I then I told them it was for a story so they didn’t want to punch me in my face anymore.

Also, you really need to do what this link tells you to do – I swear you’ll love it, yo!

On Saturday night I attended a hipster party (MisShapes DJ’s! Ultragrrrl! Project Runway winner Christian) for a very talented photographer named Brad Walsh.

The route to the party was eerily familiar to me. I’ve driven my car across Manhattan Bridge many times to visit the dude I was once madly in love with.

The party was held in a basement — I gulped lots of cranberry cocktail concoctions, flirted with gays boys in high school and dance to Whitney Houston tunes with James Brown (I wanna dance with SOMEBODY! I wanna feel the HEAT with SOMEBODY!)

Around midnight, James Brown, Big Gay Al and I left the party and walked to my car. We stumbled upon a tranny-looking gal posing with her legs spread open on the hood of my car, as if she were filming a Warrant music video.

“I’m sooooo sorry!” Tranny slurred as writhed her body away from the car.

“Hey no problem, I’m honored. It’s a sexy Volkswagen,” I said with a grin.

As I drove home we laughed about the odd encounter until I gasped. I didn’t realize that I would be driving past my ex’s apartment. His light was on and I felt a chill run through my body.

I thought about the bizarre way we broke up, the things I discovered abot him after the relationship was over. It felt like someone I thought had died, came back to life…and the light was evidence that the ghost was alive and well.

It made me sad and I didn’t want to sleep alone.

I quickly texted my current beau to see if we could hang but he was in different neighborhood of Brooklyn and I had to take my dear friends home. Rather than run to the arms of a guy I somewhat knew, I drove home to my parent’s house. I ended up snuggling with Mimosa, my family’s cheery Golden Retriever. I made a wise choice for once in my life.

Yet, here I am, 8 months after we broke up, still feeling sadness and emptiness in my heart. I’ve been in “interesting” relationships, my friends rule the world, I love my family more than life itself, my writing career has never been better…yet I wonder when I’ll finally get over him, get over the fact that our relationship was a facade.

I’m with Big Gay Al and Anna right now…we’re in Miami getting wasted, shopping, eavesdropping on Drew Barrymore and hanging with pick-up artists. I miss my kinda sorta boyfriend ’cause he defines the word, “Dope.”

Jennifer Aniston and Rene Zellweger are staying in the same hotel as us. And um, we’re staying at a $2,500 suite for FREE…for 2 days.

Life is beautiful people.

Oh and please pick up this week’s Time Out New York (the Psychic issue). I have stories on pages 10 and 20. If you don’t want to pick it up check out the stories here and here.

Plus, this is kinda funny. I have interesting suitors. Hahhaa.

OMG, I cried tears of laughter when I got an email from James Brown today. He wrote:

have you listened to this yet??

you kind of look alike!! Can you PLEASE get a perm and recreate that?

OMFG, I totally look like a member of The Jets! I am so happy today. I’ve written some dope stories in the past month and I hooked up with some stellar dudes. My God, life doesn’t get better than this. Does it?!!?!

Yup, it’s true. I continue to do crazy things for the love of journalism. Haha.

When I saw my photo for the story in this week’s Time Out New York I was horrified. Sure, I know I have a big ol’ butt but man, my ass resembled a SOFA in the photo. My college boyfriend was right on when he used to sing the Trick Daddy song to me, “Whoop! Whoop! Pull over dat a$$ is too fat.” Holla!

“Is your bed made?
Is your sweater on?
Do you want to faaahk…
Like you know I dooooooo!”

- Vampire Weekend

Yeah, I know I’m quoting a Vampire Weekend lyric like some silly hipster. They’re a mediocre band but I love that set of lyrics above. It reminds me of having a crush in 7th grade and desperately wanting to kiss said crush sooooooo bad. These days, I’m still crushing on guys, I just want to take their clothes off. Haha.

The other night I was on the phone with a dude which is weird ’cause all I ever do is email and text guys, but whatever, I guess you can still use a cell phone to talk to a boy. ANYWAY, he told me that he changes his bed sheets at least once a week, his pillow cases twice a week and his bathroom towels after every 2-3 showers.

“Whoa dude, I’m dirtier than you,” I mumbled as I ran my fingers through my unwashed hair and contemplated my laundry list. I change my sheets, pillow cases and bath towels every two weeks. Is this a deal breaker? Am I dirtier than Xtina Aguilera circa 2k2?

I asked my roommate about this and she said, “Whatever, I’m lucky if I change my sheets once a month.” Ha!

Is this a deal breaker? Are we considered dirty gals? Is the dude I’m talking to an OCD neat freak? And if he’s so clean does that mean he might be lame in bed, since he’s scared of dirt and stuff?

How often do you clean your sheets and towels? And are you turned off if your partner doesn’t clean them as much as you? Please let me know in comments, yo!

Duders:

I had to act like a clueless cat for a cool Time Out New York Story. Check it out here! You can see my butt too!

ALSO…
Kinda dorky but dope: Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia (cough, cough) has a contest every year in which employees pitch a “big idea” for the company. Martha has narrowed it down to the top 7 finalist and you can vote for your favorite idea. This is more important than voting for the primaries! Not really, but VOTE!!!!