¡ATENCION! ¡ATENCION! If this is your car, I want to marry you. If you know whose car this is, tell them I want to marry them. If you know how to look up license plates and invade people's privacy, you need to hook a naca up ASAP.
I call this photograph "La Naquez Personified."
World's Best 1997 Lexus ES350 Toyota Corolla
Here, let me zoom in for you.
Please note that I didn't blur out the license plate, just in case there's more than one more naco out there who did this to their car. Also, before you ask, yes, this photo was taken on my way to the Citadel Outlets in Commerce. ¿Y qué? Why would I go to a fancy Old Navy and buy shirts for $9? ¡Yo no soy Carlos Eslim! Por eso voy al Ol Neybi tianguis y salgo con tres playeras por siete pesos.
And in honor of sweet rides...
Esta nalgona will always hold a special place in my heart, just as her purple jumpsuit holds a special place in my closet. Serio pedo.
Modern trends, current events and political awareness are not exactly LA Naca's strongest qualities.
That being said, I'm not completely in the dark, either. For example, I know who I'm voting for this November, and I can assure you his household does not include sisterwives. Mr. President, since you didn't get me kicked out of my house, I'm not kicking you out of yours.
I also know we nacos are not wanted in Arizona or Alabama, but let's keep it real. Unless you're a coyote, Arizona is only really useful for Spring Training, as opposed to Alabama, which doesn't even have a professional baseball team. If they were smart in wanting to catch illegals, they'd have a farm league called the Mobile Mojados. It's like a moth to a flame. But given recent legislation, it's obvious Alabama (and its once rich history in Civil Rights protests) is now a taco short of a combination plate.
That reminds me, another example in which I've gotten my MEChA on was by participating in the 2006 May Day Immigration Rally on Wilshire Boulevard.
(For the record, I don't know this LawThug character, but I approve of his/her name.)
Yes, I boycotted; yes, I marched; and yes, I wore white. But did I go to protest for the fair treatment of immigrants or did I go for the free Los Tigres del Norte show? I think we all know the answer to that.
Now, onto things I don't know. Can we eat grapes now? I boycotted for so many years that I've lost track. Since I don't know, I don't eat them. Así de fácil. It should also be noted that EVERYTHING on Anderson Cooper 360° goes over my head. Hell, I don't even remember the last time I read the newspaper, aside from the funnies, which is why I prefer to get my news from Primer Impacto, even though it just hasn't been the same since they kicked off Walter Mercado.
Other things I don't know how to do include, but are not limited to: my taxes, push-ups, or the Dougie. However, I have been known to fix a wonky oscillating fan with nothing more than a 2-liter bottle cap and a rubber band. Some would call this a MacGyver move. I like to say I naco-rigged it.
Now that I've given you a breakdown of my social awareness or lack thereof, I can get to the real topic of this post: God is everywhere, including the internets and He can most definitely see your shameful browser search history.
There's so much online greatness that no one cares about if it doesn't involve tetudas, free music or estalking exes. As an example, on Google Chrome, I recently found a game app called Bejeweled and every time I get a high score, Optimus Prime yells out "Awesome!" This makes me so incredibly happy! If it were Chente's voice narrating, I can't be sure it would make me as genuinely thrilled as this. However, no one cares. Why not? Because they're all too busy playing pinche Words With Friends.
Last week, my good friend, Mister Pompis, asked me to join him in playing this Words With Friends travesura. I'd heard of this game and I didn't really have interest in it. In fact, a while back, my old frenemy, Naco Libre, told me I should play him, but that really just gave me less reason to play. However, after contemplating this newest invitation for almost an entire week, last night, I finally threw in the towel, drank the cyanide-laced horchata and signed up.
This morning, I woke up to 3 game requests. I'm not gonna lie. It weirded me out a little. I guess I didn't realize it was that popular. I mean, it's just Scrabble, right? What's the big deal? Well, it turns out that 85% of Facebook and iPod Touch users play this game. For the record, that is a statistic directly pulled out of my nalgas.
Then, as I was playing one of my first games, this milagro appeared on my tile rack.
It's as if La Virgencita herself came down and said, "mija, te mando un mensaje pa' que veas que mi beybidady, Padre de mi Chuchito, verdaderamente está por dondequiera."
¡Feliz año nuevo que según los mayas también significa el fin del mundo!
If this is the end of the world as we know it, I'd like to feel fine, but that's all going to be determined by who winds up buying the Dodgers. But we'll dive into that subject at another time.
Today's subject is poop, specifically pooping on the internet.
Let me preface this entry by being perfectly clear: I have zero intentions of posting a youtube video called Dos Nacas, Una Cubeta, nor will I make a vlog called Mi Vida Caca. We all gots to pay our bills somehow, so a pay-per-view special isn't off the table. It just will never, ever be about cerotes.
Because of the "Chet [Insert Ethnicity and/or Gender Here] Say" videos that have flooded the internets and social networking sites for the past several weeks, I thought I'd dedicate my first entry of 2012 to this meme. Keep in mind, LA Naca is thoroughly offended by most of them, except for the ones that make me laugh because stereotypes exist for a reason.
As far as I can tell, this entire desmadre started on December 11, 2011 when this video went viral.
Hilarious, right? Well, shortly thereafter, everyone and their madres were inspired to make their own version. Not to sound discouraging, but if you don't have someone as choice as Julietita Lewis in your cast, chances are your video won't stack up. She's a great actress, but most importantly, 'ta loca la cabrona. And that is her real appeal.
She's a genuinely crazy white girl, and as we all know, crazy white people are EXTREMELY entertaining (Jerry Springer just celebrated his 20th year on the air) and do blindingly white things, like get hospitalized for exhaustion and dehydration. They throw adult temper tantrums and call them panic attacks. They also have "diseases" like acid reflux and lactose intolerance. Chuchito perdóname, pero I cannot trust a man who does not eat quesadillas.
So, back to JLew. Back in the day, she made headlines for showing up on the Oscars red carpet with her hair in cornrows. CORNROWS. Did I mention she crazy? Now, this nutbar is also extremely talented. If you've never seen it, watch Natural Born Killers. If not for her, then for Rodney Dangerfield. You'll never be the same again. Never. She's now on the new tv show The Firm based on the '90s John Grisham novel. (For me, reading his books was like getting free legal advice, but since LA Abogada passed the bar, I don't have to read anymore, so sue me!) Es más, for a long time, her arm candy was none other than Brad Pitt. (And I'm not talking about El Brad Pitt, the Mexican druglord whose nickname proves he either suffers from high self-esteem, or it's supposed to be sarcastic, like...calling este feo El Brad Pitt.) Es más, this was back in the '90s in the height of his fame from Interview with a Vampire, Legends of the Fall, and People's Sexiest Taco de Ojo Alive, which means guey before he turned into Benetton Dad.
Moral of the story: Brad Pitt=Most Adorable Laugh. El Brad Pitt=Should use a mirror for more than cutting coke.
So, back to cagadas. After Chet Girls Say was posted, which as of today, is at over 13 million views, a bunch of Santee-style knock-off videos followed. The first one I saw was what white girls say to black girls. It was cute. I even added it to my favorites. Then there was what girls say to gays. I'm not gonna lie. That one stung. Too close to home.
Then, all hell broke loose in brown town. An alleged friend told me that this sounded like me.
Hija de su madre. The video is funny, but it's a lie. Esta cabrona ni yo somos españolas. Let me esplain for those that don't understand what I'm talking about. To be Spanish is to be from Spain, mensos. Antonio Banderas is Spanish and yet everyone thinks he's Mexican because he's played Mexican characters for the better part of the past 20 years.
Also, how could someone think I'm a Spanish girl? Let's go over the facts via a simple Q&A with myself:
Me: Do I have a Sthpaniard listhp?
Yo: No. Because unlike the people who conquered The Greatest Country in the World, I know how to pronounce Cs and Zs.
Me: Am I singing you a pinche zarzuela and dancing flamenco while playing the castanets?
Yo: ¡Soy naca hasta la muerte, caramba! If imma do any singing, I'll be three sheets to the wind wailing some classic José Alfredo Jiménez advising you to steer clear of the road to Salamanca.
Me: Do I kiss the ground Penelope Cruz walks on?
Yo: No, because that heifer has the same profile as Big Bird and I'm more of an Oscar the Grouch fan, but that's mostly based on how many Oscars I've known, biblically or otherwise.
Also, let's call an espade an espade. There ain't nothing "Madre Patria" about this video. If I had to guess, a Nuyorican named Usnavy had something to do with the making of this mielda. And I live in NacoLAndia, not Espanish Harlem.
Then, I found this video which made me giggle.
It reminded me of my Penmar Park cousins, who speak neither Inglés nor Spanish well.
A few days later, I was asked if this is what my home is like.
Listen, lazy racists: this term, "hispanic", does not apply to all. Ni a mí, ni a LA Seño. This is straight up Nica, not Naca.
THEN, someone without Mexcellence in his blood told me I'm a dead ringer for this puta.
Ay, bendito sea Dios. Never in my life have I had a pregnancy scare. NUNCA. Ni lo digas de broma. Also... Jamás en mi vida he comido Flamin' Hot Cheetos. Sabritas Adobadas all the way, son. Recognize.
Then, today, de metiche feisbuqueando mis sanchos, I hit the jackpot.
From the delantal, to the bigote, this is me, minus the mom bit. CMC when they poke fun of the previous video, too.
So, if you make or know of any more of these videos, don't send them to me. Goldinacs finally found the perfect Chet LA Naca Says video. I think you'll agree.
