Today, the fifth of May, marks an insidious annual attempt to lure John and Jane Q. Public into ignoring the threat to America posed by the Mexican Menace, also known as El Peligro Mejicano. While unsuspecting Americans quaff frosty bottles of Corona beer (the name symbolizes the attempt to establish an Aztec kingdom in the U.S. after the overthrow of the democratic republic), the campaign to destroy America proceeds rapidamente. The threat is subtle, as even corn-fed Midwesterners are being transformed into Mesoamerican corn people through, you got it, the consumption of corn. If God wanted humans to consume corn, corn would be naturally edible, with no need to resort to fiendish Aztec alchemy to render the stuff wholesome. At any rate, last year, the dumbest man in America stumbled upon the connection between the Mexicans and the Communists, a plot I covered in a post I wrote last year.
Will the fiendish Cinco de Mao plot succeed? With a heavy heart (I made a bunch of quesadillas with chorizo for lunch yesterday and will have a bigass pot of chili simmering on the stove later today), I have to say it's only A Matter of Time:
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6 comments:
Somebody warn Aunt Snow!
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Cuidado, llamas!!!
In a glaring example of human perversity, Cinco de Mayo celebrations are rooted in the Battle of Puebla, where a badly outnumbered Republican force held against multiple attacks by the French Expeditionary force over a number of days, fighting a defensive battle against lines of infantry that was decided, as these things tend to be, by men killing men at eyeball range in hand to hand and bayonet combat.
In the end, well over five hundred dead and dying littered the field, the air filled with their sobbing cries and the stench of their viscera in the evening rain.
Beer and Barbeque!!! Fun!!
Somebody warn Aunt Snow!
ERMAGERD!!! She's in on the plot!!!
Cuidado, llamas!!!
Llamas son peligrosas, pero alpacas son peores.
In the end, well over five hundred dead and dying littered the field, the air filled with their sobbing cries and the stench of their viscera in the evening rain.
Beer and Barbeque!!! Fun!!
To commemorate the stench of viscera, one could always dine on buche.
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Well, c'mon, dood, don't hog it all.
Break me off a piece of writing...
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