La Raza Part Uno

Editor's Note: I have decided to break this up into two posts so that maybe JUST maybe I'll be able to get it done.

Here we go:

As it turns out, my Latino heritage only peeks out at specific times.

-Usually when I'm hanging around my Dad's family and all of their crazy ass Mexi antics come out to play. Specifically when we play Lotteria (Mexican Bingo), when they fight over how to raise each other's (20) kids, and of course when making fun of each other's drinking problems. Ahhhh, mi familia, me gusta!

-Typically when I'm watching SPURS games. "AAAAaaaaaye, that puto es sheeting. O-LE! O-LE! O-LE! O-LE!"

- And ALWAYS when my mom guilts me into doing something on the Westsiiiiiiiiide of town.

For example, this last Sunday was spent hashing out potato salad and/or onions and/or jalapenos to over 1600 people. All the while, listening to my parents fight over who is the better serving line wench (and it's clearly my Dad, because Mom is a lefty and we all know leftys are signs of the devil and naturally not made for such as demanding task as grabbing a plate, filling it with beans and passing it to the right) AND listening to my mom's friends talk about all the old days (last week) of stumbling around town drunk off their asses and hooking up with random guys (holy shit, there are like me!).