Monday, December 12, 2011

Caowin's Editorial on Spanish Speakers

As I finish finals week, I find myself recalling some of my best college memories... For example, there was that time that I was on the phone trying to get ahold of my college to ask if this whole “homework” thing was really necessary. That’s when it happened - the automatic message said, “Welcome to the College of Southern Nevada. Por espanol, toque numero uno”.

So I was like, “Bitch! I might not know Spanish, but I can tell that you were just cussing me out!” Out of anger, I launched my cell phone into the wall, shattering it into seven pieces.

“What did you just do?” my mother asked as she ran into the room.

“AARRGGHH!!” I yelled, jumping up and down on the couch, pulling the hair off my various body parts.

Three mental hospital workers and one dart filled with horse tranquilizers later, a nice lady in scrubs was explaining to me that it is common for automatic call directing things to ask if the caller prefers to use Spanish. I tried telling her that this was America, and here we speak English, but she just said that not everyone does.

Apparently, and I’m not making this up, people from Mexico and other English-hating countries will come to the USA. I know what you’re thinking. “Caowin, that can’t be legal!” [Editor’s Note: Y. S. Rice. “Not all of our readers are xenophobic assholes like you Caowin.”]

And you know; that’s the funny thing. Most of the time, it’s NOT legal. People with brownish skin are coming into this country despite the fact that our laws clearly say, “No, senor!”  They’re called illegal aliens, and despite what their name would suggest, they’re much worse than ET.

Unlike ET, they move into our neighborhoods, take our jobs, and most importantly, SPEAK SPANISH.  Worst yet, when they birth their young here, they (the little brown babies, also called “brownitos”) have all the rights of Americans! And people think I’M crazy for not thinking this is a good idea? And thusly ripping out all my chest hair?

Luckily, there’s something we can do – we can join the Minutemen, the greatest group of guys in America. All you need is a gun and you can help them shoot down any brown-looking person you see crossing the border. Sure, you’ll occasionally hit a Cancun vacationer who got miserably lost after a particularly eventful night, but that’s a small price to pay for keeping our country safe. Let the morgues figure out whether or not that John Doe was really a Juan Dorito. I’ve been trying to join them myself for a while now, but they’re worried that the brown people won’t be stopped by my Super Soaker 3000. Obviously they’ve never seen me crash a Quincenera.

So Mexico, watch out. I’m about to crash the biggest Quincenera of them all.


No comments:

Post a Comment