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March 22, 2013

In any event, I don’t see how taking a porch monkey to the mall makes me a sexist.


Someone told me the other day that I’m sexist and it offended me. After all, you’re talking to a guy with 8 sisters.

It all came about when I went to the mall with my new internet friend, Jorge (whore HEY.) He’s a Mexican. Anyway, as we drove up this typical Swedish chick with her inch thick glasses and buck teeth was swerving around looking for a parking space. We both saw it at the same time but, alas, she was closer and turned in first.

Annoyed that I missed the spot, my frustration compounded as I waited for her six-to-ten point turn.

As I drove past I said “Learn to park, Tojo,” and that was it. Jorge looked at me weird, and he said I must not like women very much to say that. I chalked it up to the language barrier and let it slide.

Our first stop was the cinnamon roll place because, frankly, them cakes be good. Also, I wanted to introduce José to American culture so he knew we didn’t just eat pork chops. Foreigners think we only eat pork chops. That’s probably because of TV and movies (but we all know who runs Hollywood. I don’t have anything against the Coons per se, but they’re greedy and ruining American culture.)

Speaking of, we were in line behind a lady with a nose like a trysail who seemed surprised  she had to pay for extra frosting. Typical. As she fumbled around in her purse, I said (quiet like, so only Manuel could hear) “Just like a Chink, huh? Trying to save some money.”

I didn’t find it offensive, but he did  judging by the face he made. Kind of like he just bit into an extra hot jalapeño at whatever fancy parties those ragheads have up there in Meh-he-co and he didn’t want to embarrass himself.

Anyhow, we weren’t off to a great start. As we smacked on our creamy dough balls, we watched some Blacky Chan practice roundhouse kicks in the Dojo next door. Still trying to acclimatize him, I told Juan that this was unusual since most of the Coloreds aren’t up this early. Maybe they are back in Antarctica so they can boomerang a zebra for lunch, but the Camel Jockeys here are pretty shiftless and lazy. They like their rap dancing and knifings, sure, but only after 4pm when the liquor store is open. 

We started down the mall and he wanted to go in the Oriental Gift shop. I smartly steered him away, realizing he hadn’t been here long enough. You shouldn't  buy from a Spear Chucker your first-time out. Haggling is part of their culture,  and they can spot a rube a kilometer away. (I don’t normally use metric, but I know Pablo’s people don’t habla mi-le-os.)

After a pretty happy couple of hours I was getting tired. My legs were. If we didn’t have to walk around so many fat people it probably wouldn’t have been so bad, but it was like today was free diabetes day and someone had put out fliers at the Wal-Mart. While I’m not sexist, I will admit to not liking homos. Put down the Snickers bar and go for a jog already, am I right?

We were walking behind some Kikes, and I think this is where he got the idea I disparage women. But they were super queer with their hands in each other’s back pocket. These two chicks couldn’t have been more gay if they were making out at an Avril Levigne concert during a summer’s eve commercial starring Rosie O’Donnell and Martha Stewart riding unicorns through a rainbow.

Anyway, I nudged Gustav and asked if his continent would allow this sort of public display (I hear  Sharia Law is pretty strict about this stuff.) He said it was normal in his town, and that I should be more accepting of other people.

This shocked me into thinking about what I may have done to upset him. Did he take offense to my suggestion that rug-munchers are probably good at vacuuming? Was it when I said they’re probably on their way to the cucumber aisle?

Well that’s what I apologized for because nothing else came to mind. I explained that I have sisters, and that I have the utmost respect for women of all types. Even the Wops. Besides, it’s his people that make women wear lip disks and bandanas.

Talk turned to President Osama and the future of US-Mexican relations. Treading carefully as I consider myself an ambassador for America (we should all think of ourselves this way. If more people were open-minded, the Jews probably wouldn’t have shot down that skyscraper on 9-11. Just saying.)

 Anyway, treading lightly and being very diplomatic, I told him how we Amuricans welcome the wetbacks, but that we need a wall to keep the terrorists from sneaking in. I explained that only our guns and vigilance are keeping this country safe from the gooks and liberal media who want to destroy us - and steal the freedoms we fought the blacks for during the Civil War.

I think he understood (finally) what America is all about, and I felt like a Chinese gentleman sitting down to a plate of dog stew. (And no, I don’t have anything against the Krauts, but everyone knows they eat dogs. Pick up a book sometime.)

My friend was flying out later that evening and I didn’t want to waste the whole day window shopping.  I suggested we could buy some lotion then go back to my place and maybe give each other some non-gay massages. He said his flight was early so I took him to the airport instead.

In any event, I don’t see how taking a porch monkey to the mall makes me a sexist.