Dear Mexican: The other day, I witnessed a young gordita retrieve a bag of Fritos, open it, then walk over to the chili station and pump in two steaming piles of 7-11 chili into the bag. At that point the Frita Bandita then shook the bag and started comer those nasty, now-hot, chili-soaked Fritos. Needless to say, I was appalled. And enfermo. Why not just buy a bag of Chili Cheese Fritos? Do most Mexicans shamelessly mangle foodstuffs like this? What other foul comida are Mexicans shoving past their mustaches?
Dear Gabacho: You mean chili billies? The first time I had chili ladled over Fritos or tortilla chips were at Sage Park in Anaheim during my time riding the bench for the La Palma Little League Senior Minor division. Gabachos went crazy for the dish; us Mexicans shrugged, bought a bag of Fritos, and drowned it in Tapatío. Twenty-five years later, we pour Tapatio on Tapatío-flavored Doritos—and? Spare me your mock shock: the most famous dishes buried under chili, the Coney Island dog and Cincinnati chili five way (spaghetti, chili, cheese, onions, and beans) are favorites of poor gabachos in the South and Midwest. They're great dishes, and fulfill the working-class dream of filling your gut for cheap and offending precious pendejos like yourself.
The sentiment among most U.S. citizens is that new Mexican arrivals in the US of A should immediately learn to speak English (the least that they could do). How easy would that be for the Mexicans? Would it be easier for us to learn to speak Spanish? Are there more Spanish words than English words? Is it fair to even ask that question?
Dear Gabacho: All's fair in love and etymology, son! Gabachos don't realize how pinche hard it is to learn how to speak English. The Oxford English Dictionary currently has 171,476 words in its Second Edition that it categorizes as "current use" (and this is not including tenses and obsolete words) while the Real Academia Española estimates about 100,000. That said, Mexicans do learn how to speak English, if slowly: A 2016 study by the Migration Policy Institute (MPI) showed 69 percent of Mexican immigrants "reported limited English proficiency [LEP], compared to 50 percent of all immigrants." That might seem high, but compare that to another immigrant group that came from similar poverty: Vietnamese. The MPI showed 67 percent of Vietnamese report LEP, but I don't hear people freaking out about them. Maybe because they historically voted Republican?
Years ago, in response to some political bullshit heaved by Shrubya and his ignoble Cabal of Curs, I remember seeing long lines of people outside Mexican consular offices waiting to get a Matricula Consular card. I know matricula means "enrollment" but what exactly was the purpose of the cards? And why was it so important that people would stand in line all day to get one? P.S. #fucktrump —Gringo Wants to Play Bingo
Dear Gabacho: You said it, loco. All those cards do are serve as a form of ID for undocumented folks that allow them to do everything from open bank accounts to buy alcohol at clubs to apply for a driver's license in certain states. Know Nothings, of course, take the document as further proof Mexico is trying to Reconquista the United States, which is kinda like realizing you're on fire only when the flames expose your ulna.
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