If you think that Mexicans should get the fuck out of your country, then you know what? I think you should get the fuck out of your country. Mexicans are out there harvesting the food you are cramming into your fat gullet while you watch Fox News, get pissed off about Mexicans, and gain weight. I attended the U2 concert at Soldier Field in Chicago last night. Great night, good show. Sure Bono is now playing a caricature of himself these days, but he still has high entertainment value. There were three Mexican people in my row, and they were loving the shit out of life. Put a smile on my face every time I looked at them. One guy made the same “Are you getting me a beer?” joke every time I walked past him to use the toilet or get a drink. In between songs he yelled “Helllllooooo Bono, my frrriend!” at the stage. His other mates danced and screamed broken lyrics at the top of their lungs during the particularly energetic songs. Just so happy to be there. It was the same vibe I got during a long run on the morning of July 3rd along the lake front. Mexican families everywhere just kicking the hell out of it. Setting up blankets and barbecues and lawn chairs and tents in the parks and on the beaches. Tank tops and smiles and Virgin Mary amulets everywhere. They didn’t have much money and they didn’t give a fuck. All they need is pollo on the grill, some corn tortillas, a few cervezas, a soccer ball, a lopsided generic volleyball net with tears in it, and they are fucking good to go for hours. Dudes pushing trundle carts full of frozen shit I’ve never even heard of. Made my miserable fucking sado-masochistic run tolerable to see how much joy these immigrants were carving out of nothing. And I know, “Half them fuckers ain’t even legal!”. Guess what, half your fucking drunk potato digging Irish ancestors weren’t legal either. And Mayflower redneck xenophobic assholes just like you said they’d ruin the country. And look what happened. St. Patrick’s Day kicks so much fucking ass I can’t even tell you how much fucking ass it kicks. I don’t have the words. Mexicans are out there working their tits off doing labor that fat lazy assed Americans don’t want to do (I include myself in this group), while fat lazy Americans bitch about how they are “Takin’ our fuckin’ jobs!” (I do not include myself in this group). Sure, they have some problems with crime and alcoholism and obese welfare recipients, but tell me what ethnic group-Caucasians included-doesn’t have these problems? From the limited interaction I’ve had with Mexican immigrants while working on construction crews, hanging out with friends who manage bars/restaurants, the dudes who work in the locker room at my gym, and the lawn crew at my building complex, I’ve found the following: They are, on average, a pretty fun and hard-working lot that enjoys smiling and loves to laugh. So guess what? If given a choice of hanging out with them in a hovel on the outskirts of town with roosters running around the yard, or at your house with Glenn Beck shouting in the background and you pissing and moaning about the country being stolen from you by the evil, conniving wetbacks, I’m drinking Tecates and throwing bones with the Mexicans any day of the week and thrice on Sunday. So all I’m saying, while rambling incoherently for a really long page space, is instead of bitching about the Mexicans you’ve never introduced yourself to, turn off the fucking Bill O’Reilly (hmmmm O’Reilly, where did your ancestors arrive from???) and download a Rosetta Stone Spanish edition and learn how to say hello to the neighbors who like it or not, are here.
Also, do your fucking homework. We stole half of Mexico in the 1800′s, by hook and by crook. Sent our most rabidly anti-social, greedy fucking citizens down there to squat on their land and then pick a fight so we could rape and pillage the shit out of the northern half of their country. Where do you think “Don’t Mess With Texas” comes from? Now they’re back not with guns and an army, but a lawn mower and dish rag. Fucking deal with it.