What else, hmmmn? Well, I cheated on my diet and went down to Carl Jr's to see if I could catch the local MILF union #203. Instead, I made another elderly lady friend. This is starting to get real weird. I'm starting to wonder if I'm really some senile old bugger who thinks he's just this young dude. That would explain a few things, like why I get cranky if I haven't had a nap. Anyway, this lady is telling me her life story and is being really sweet to me and all. Then, she starts bashing all the Mexicans that she works with there. I'm sorry, but don't bash the Mexicans around me. I've worked with my share of them and they're usually hard workers, smart, and funny as hell. Here's a little photo for y'all, proving my solidarity with my pachuccos from jobs past.
(My chinos were in the wash, man.)
This was a photo that I submitted to "Crip Fancy" a few years ago for a hopeful layout. I was wanting to mix in with some new social circles at the time. I went either by the name of "Pachucco de Guero" or "The Red-Haired Mexican". I really thought that my submission would make it into publication, but alas, it was not to be.
Here was their reply:
"Psssssh, man you are one loco gringo. You wearing a Cub Scout handkerchief on your donde capaesa, for god's sake. It looks like you got a couple of catapillers out of the garden and glued them to your face, puto. Get a life, white boy. Your mother's prolly worried sick about you. Go get some therapy while you're at it, chingala. Oh, and quit sending us these creepy pictures, man.Well, I must say that I was a little defeated after getting that rejection letter. But, I did not let this one negative experience keep me from being friends with the Mexican people. I mean, my brother looks Mexican. We have placed bets in our family to see if my brother was not conceived by the milkman. He's dark complexion is totally out of place with the rest of the family, or "day walkers" as I like to say. My mom says it's from our Cherokee blood line. I'm still not buying that one at all, mother. Oh, I've long since ditched the facial hair. Being someone suffering from Dick Clark's Disease (DCD) I will forever look twenty five, but sadly can never grow a kick-ass 'stache. I need a hug now.
Nice '70 Impala, though.
Please excuse any horrible spelling errors in Espanol. Plus, the punctuation is wrong, because I don't have the right characters.