Monday, April 17, 2006

Que Onda Guero?

First off, I just want to say that I'm glad to be alive. Nothing says, "Ahhhhhhh! I want to live...I want to liiiiiiiiive!!!", more than getting sideways in a utility van going down a snow covered road. It's just sad to think how much I would have been missed--what great adventures not lived--had I succumbed to ditching the "Blue Goose" into a canal. Someone up there wants me alive. I better not piss them off, now.

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.
Nice '70 Impala, though.

Sincerely,
Geno Tovar."
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.

Please excuse any horrible spelling errors in Espanol. Plus, the punctuation is wrong, because I don't have the right characters.



11 comments:

The Grunt said...

Damn Blogger hates me. Sorry for the tiny text in places.

Logophile said...

Blogger hates everyone, including Mexicans.
I would hug you but I am too weirded out by the mint jelly in your ears.
Will a hearty handshake do?
Perhaps a polite wave from a safe distance?

Güggs said...

I can't grow a proper mustache either. I end up looking like a pervert if I grow it.

Hence, I grow it.

Scott said...

Haha... that is a classic pic. Thanks for the post.

Cheers,

Scott

Güggs said...

..sometimes i need to clarify myself b/c my sarcasm doesn't come across...no, i don't have a mustache.

p.s. we don't have a carl's jr. here. perhaps our local chapter goes to wendy's.

Crystal said...

you have the hugest hand i have ever seen in my entire life.

Vera said...

so did you toss hot-sauce into the old lady's eyeballs or what?

fabulous picture, i can imagine you in a scene from "the good, the bad and the ugly"... mmmwomp womp mwomp...

v

verification word: eiideglz

eiideglz are the frozen tears that freeze your eyeballs open in a very harsh northern wind.

The Grunt said...

Crystal~I do have giant hands. When I clap it bursts eardrums. That comes from genetics and a little thing I call Emanuel Labor--a whole lifetime of it, starting at age 10 when they strapped the weekly paper load to my undeveloped frame and the fun hasn't stopped since. I have been told to "get a jarb" and that "dreams are for pussies" *sniff*. I'm looking to end that phase of my life, however. I don't want to be crippled by fifty.

Vera~I just stopped talking to her. I love that movie, BTW.

If you guys think my hands are big, then you should see my shoulders standing next to another man--for reference. I could set up a buffet table across them.

Logo~You're a married woman, so a hearty handshake is fine. I respect family values:)

Scott~Congrats on the new job, man.

Guggs~Yeah, if I grow a full goatee it doesn't look bad at all, but on its own it looks wrong, wrong, wrong! I get you, BTW. Don't ever feel like you've inserted your foot in your mouth here, buddy.

Logophile said...

Oh, my family values are all about fondling the single guy and leaving him wondering what the hell that was about, but I shriek and carry on if you do it back, just so you know.

The Grunt said...

Oh...Ohhhhhh! Huh? I'm a good sport, Logo--it's cool--I know the rules.

vera said...

verification word: obybu