The "Party Bus" Driver
ROSSMAN
Only in the United States can the military victory
of another country become an official "party and drinking day"
for people not even of the ethnic decent of the country who's
victory it was in the first place. God bless us, everyone.
Anyway, I'm here to review and rate one of the
greatest drinking holidays ever, the muy bueno Cinco de Mayo
(second only to St. Patty's Day for creating new raging alcoholics
every year). Honestly, I don't know what the fuck Cinco de
Mayo really means (I mean, I know it translates as "The
Fifth of May Drunken Cock Whores", I just don't know its
true purpose). Is it like our Fourth of July? Is it like August
9th in Japan?
We may never know, but we may never care either. Cinco de Mayo
isn't about fighting or wars in America. Nope, here it's all
about tacos, nachos and cerveza. Mucha cerveza. Andele! Andele!
Arriba! Arriba!
See, for me it all started back in my freshman
year in high school. That was the first time I had even heard of
the concept of Cinco de Mayo. No, it wasn't in my Spanish class
that year that I was told of this holiday, because that would
have made sense (my Spanish
teacher, though, was a crusty old, evil man from Colombia who
we all swore was going to kidnap us and make us work on his
illegal
and scurvy drug plantation whenever he got the evil chance).
No, instead I got my first glimpse of real Mexican heritage
and
holiday festivities from a Taco Bell commercial -- long before
any of that gay talking chihuahua crap. It was an eye and ear
grabbing commercial that meant something and taught us all
a really
good lesson about ourselves. And it sold lots of refried beans.
If I remember correctly the commercial in question had a real
catchy tune that my whole class kept getting in trouble
for singing during the previously mentioned Spanish clase with
our sadistic "blow dealer" sensei. The ad had a couple
of Mexican guys in sombreros and woolen tarps in a dusty
town square (I thought
it was the
Alamo the first two times I saw it, cause I had just seen Pee-Wee's
Big Adventure the week before on TV) who
were serenading a group of onlookers with the menu of their
local Taco Bell establishment:
"Cinco de Mayo, bean burrito,
Taco, pinto and cheese!
We make the stuff you really like,
So make a run for the border, if you pleeeeeease!"
Or something not even close to that. Wow, looks
like Mom was right about sniffing stamps. My memory really
sucks the flour off a tortilla. Anyway, the commercial just
reinforced in our minds that all Mexicans cared about was wearing
giant party hats and singing about all the different kinds
of food you can make with only 4 ingredients. But we all loved
them for it. They had a CULTURE! And they cared about it so
much they were willing to pimp themselves out to the Bell just
so they could get the word out to all the gringos the world
over who NEEDED to know about the Cinco of Mayo. And for that
the world was grateful.
Now, flash forward a few years to college and
my first REAL taste of what Cinco de Mayo truly was about.
Up till my freshman year in post-high school education, I was
under the impression that Cinco de Mayo was a Taco Bell holiday.
You know like Hallmark with their Valentine's Day, Mother's
Day, Father's Day, Grandparents' Day, Birthdays and Christmas.
I
simply thought
it was there to hawk enchiladas. But then I found out the truth:
Cinco de Mayo isn't about selling Puerto Rican food, it's about
selling Central American ALCOHOL. I think I unfortunately only
stuck with Juan's Red Worm Tequila on my first true blurry-visioned
Cinco de Mayo fiesta, but subsequent Cincos have shown me
the light. They have shown me the glory of all that is Dos
Equis
Amber, and Corona with a wedge of lime. And I thank Rosita,
my sexy, touchy-feely waitress at the Mexicalli Bar and Grill
for showing me the correct way to play "Titty Quarters" with
shots
of mescal. Mios Dios, Rosita was a REAL mujer! Aye yi yiiii!
Never once have I traveled South of the border
to actually witness a real Mexican Cinco de Mayo, but to be
truthful, I'm pretty sure I'd be disappointed. I doubt that
the enthusiasm of a bunch of white, black and Asian guys, who
don't speak a lick of Spanish, but who celebrate the Day Rasputin
Was Gunned Down by Pecos Bill (probably the closest to the
truth you'll ever get out of any non-Mexican about the history
behind the day), could actually be matched by the people who
live in
the real country that the true, historical event happened in
(and are bored to death with drinking Tecate, Bohemia and Pacifico
day
in
and
day out,
and just want a nice thick-headed Guinness instead). It's like
how Canadians make a bigger deal of the Queen's birthday than
the Brits, mostly cause they don't have to look at her mug
every day and hear about how she's shagging the members of
Parliament
like a sheep dog. That slut.
Anyway, this year I plan to go all out in trying
to recapture my youthful interpretation of what it means to
be a white guy during a Puerto Rican holiday. I'm going to
eat one of everything on the Taco Bell menu (which should keep
it under my $2.58 budget), have two drinks of everything that
starts with "la" or "el" at the Taco Stand
downtown, and then I plan to find Rosita and drink her firm
little Honduran ass
under the table where I plan to use up that Spanish fly I got
a few years back from shiftyeyesore44723 on eBay). Wish me
luck, amigos.
So, what do I think of the recurring holiday
of Cinco de Mayo? Primero usted debe entender que no tomo el
arte de beber, ni los días de fiesta que animan beber,
muy ligeramente. Cualquier día de fiesta, el americano
o no, que vive simplemente para conseguir la gente bebida fuera
de sus cabezas es buenisimo en mi libro. Doy el Cinco
de Mayo un pulgar para arriba. Ahora para poner encendido mi máscara
de lucha y soplar cosas para arriba con mis misiles de la caja
de la guitarra.
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The Cinced Up MALCOLM Z
This is some fucked up shit, hombres. Yo, mothafucka,
I ain't Mexican or whatever, but this shit is just all wrong.
Why the hell do you Latin motherfuckas stand fo this shit?!
See, you let us Americans just
shit all over your holiday and make a drunken mockery of it
and yo goddamn culture, and you jus' sit the fuck back and
take it up the rear like a bitch. Like a real fuckin' puta.
You get me, bitch?
See, all you uneducated crackers out there, Cinco
de Mayo ain't the motherfuckin' Mexican Independence Day. That's
in motherfuckin' Septiembre and shit. Get me? No, bitch, el
Cinco is about the Battle of Puebla in 1862. It's where a few
thousand Mexicans busted lots of caps up the Faggy French army
that tried to turn all them Spanish speakin' taco fuckers into
pastry eatin' coffee slurpers. God! That pisses me off even
more than I's already wuz about them goddamn frogs! Ha! At
least now they's no longer a world motherfuckin' power. Goddamn
Nazi bitches.
So fuck this shit. You turned a motherfuckin'
noble as shit Mexican war victory into a drinkin' holiday?!
What the fuck is next, honkeys? Make a Chin Chow Chang Day
and drink motherfuckin' Tsing Tao while you eat your dog in
noodles and claim you is just experiencin' the fuckin' Chinese
culture. You make me sicker than super freakin' Rick James.
Fuck this shit with a ten foot whitey
pole, bitch. I give this shit a motherfucka thumb
down. Jus'
be grateful it ain't no damn knife to yo jugular.
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