True Story: My dad still has one of these in his garage. It’s from 1996.

I don’t know why but every Panaderia has been giving out the same two or three calendars for the past thirty years. Of course the dates have changed but the image is always the same, an Aztec Warrior carrying “Maria” in his arms. You know, the one where every other day is some kinda saint’s holiday or something. The only time these come in handy is on Mexican Mother’s Day since Aubelita wants to here from you then, not on American Mother’s Day.

In fact, the year’s almost over. Next time you see your abuela, take her some pan mexicano, give her a hug and the new 2012 calendar. Also, light her veladora, according to the all-knowing panaderia calendar, tomorrow is St. Augustin Don Martin Pedro’s birthday.

Part of the Mexican Way is to show off your chest hair. Bonus points if you’re wearing a gold chain with a crucifix. You see, it’s hot as hell in Mexico, or maybe Mexico is hell? Anyway, in order to stay cool, our dads and tios have figured out that unbuttoning that third button reduces temperatures by up to 20% OK, I made that shit up and Mythbusters wont return my calls so let just go with it.

Chest hair is part of the machismo that we pride ourselves in. It means you’re a man. You have a job, drive a Ford, and will serenade your girl with love songs when you’re drunk. We’re bullfighters, lovers, and hairy, mysterious men with a gold Jesus buried in a forest of curly pelos. It drives the white girls crazy too. They say once you go black you never go back. But ladies, trust me, once you go Mexican, you’ll never second guess again.

VAMANOS PUTOS!

Parents had to get inventive.  They were always fond of one ghost story.  La Llorona.  Everyone has their own version of it.  Here’s mine.

She was a beautiful young woman.  Tall.  Slender.  Long black hair.  A mother of two children who would always argue and fight with her every single day.  They drove her mad, making her yell and scream.  Soon, her beauty began to fade.  Sadness upon her face.  She grew tired of being a mother. One night she couldn’t fall asleep.  The wind had an angry howl, capturing just how she felt.  Then the clouds moved away, the full moon illuminating her eyes.  Slowly she crept.  Her white robe sweeping the floor.  The children’s door creaked open.  She picked them up like you would a sleeping baby.  Each child’s chest upon hers, arms wrapped firmly around them.

Hair flailing, the moon guided her to the lake.  She stared at the water, as she finally arrived.  Letting go of her embrace, the moon began to ripple.  The children screamed and cried.  Just as the wind. They waved their arms violently.  Along with her hair. A cloud passed over the moon, it was dark, then silent.  That is when the woman began to weep.  Walking into the lake, descending into the darkness.  Slowly, until she was no more.

Now she wanders in the night.  Looking everywhere for children, death upon her pale face.  Her eyes black, an abyss.  Tonight, close your eyes and listen.  Her wails of sorrow carried by the wind. Listen.

The two most popular teams are The Chivas and America.  The Chivas are named after goats? Ay Diosito, dame paciencia!  Why do Mexicans like goats so much?  I still have nightmares of when I was a kid, well… I thought my Dad bought a pet goat.  It was tied to a tree.  Later a bunch of people came over.  “We’re having a party!”  “…hey, Mommy…where’s the goat?”  And that was the day I learned, that literally, MY PARENTS WERE CHUPACABRAS.

So readers, what team is better? Chivas or America?

We don’t know.

This is the greatest mystery of our culture.  It will never be solved.

Sorry,

El Borracho

Also, black makes you look tough.  We Mexicans pride ourselves in looking tough.  We shave our heads (Mr. Clean looked tough right?) wear black (Raiders gear), and wear baggy pants (metaphor for how big are “balls” are).  Plus, Raiders fans are just plain psycho, so if we can add fear by proxy by wearing a jersey, then hell yeah we will.

So why haven’t I updated for so long?  Well, part of the Mexican Way is to be lazy. enjoy your leisure time.  We like to chillax with the homies.  I’ve been working on my car, drinking bud light, and eating crazy amounts of eggs with chorrizo and nopales.  I guess you can say this blog had itself a little siesta.

I’m back PUTOS!

Mexicans like to believe in natural cures.  It dates back to small villages not having access to a doctor.  Some of my favorites include:

Fever- Drink 7Up

Upset Stomach- Tecate with lots of lime juice (this one works with enough doses)

Constipation- Call your mom’s friend’s Aunt who know how to do this weird massage ritual thingy.

Stuffy Nose- Grandma’s Chile Verde

Heartbreak- Suaza Hornitos, 6 pack of…you guessed it, and a radio

Hangover- Menudo.  Crudo? Try Menudo!