OK, wait. Stop. These aren’t real names. You got me. I just typed “Francisco Downtodastoretogetdaeggsandsomemilkforhismama” and realized that I am living a lie here. Forgive me, in English and Spanish. I don’t know what got into me. It is uncalled for and a damned disgrace. There is no excuse for being such a subversive horse’s ass in plain view of the entire world.
I love Spain and its peoples. I usually never say ‘peoples’ but in this case I think it is warranted even though ‘people’ is already plural, but ‘peoples’ makes me sound like I have travelled the world and bedded many beautiful women. I love Barcelona. I even pronounce it ‘Bar-thay-LO-na’ because I love it so damn much. I roll my R’s with such vigor that my tongue goes numb and the roof of my mouth is sore for a week after. I said ‘Ricky Ricardo’ one time and generated enough power from the motion of my tongue to light my house for a month. You could see my tongue from space for 17 seconds. Me and the Great Wall of China, whats up? I pronounce ‘Madrid’ ‘Ma-SHREE-th’ and oh yes, you’ll get spit in your eye every time from the ‘-th’ at the end. I snap it right the F off. I eat tortillas with every meal, and while I am eating them I often say “Have you ever tasted such perfect Tor-tee-JASSS?” I have the tiniest pencil-thin mustache that accentuates my upper lip in such a way that the entire country of Spain would probably consider putting my face on their currency if they ever met me. Did I mention I wear a black cape and swordfight every sorry son of a bitch that crosses my path? Do you see where I’m coming from here? Do you think I’m playing games? If Spain were a woman I would marry the whole damned thing. I would even let Portugal tag along on the honeymoon. Viva Espana! Viva Espana! Hablamamos con los huevos! Sierra la puerta como un perro! Los Lonely Boys! Uh, Ricardo Montalban! Salsa?
Blast From The Past!!!
3 years ago