Aguas Con Tus Aguacates

I know what you're thinking.  Yes, it's true.  Avocado does mean testicle. 

Avocado comes from the Spanish word aguacate which comes from the Nahuatl word āhuacatl, which means testicle. So, you're right.

On In one hand, avocados only have one big seed and not a million little ones.  On In the other hand, there's nothing more testicular than this weekend's upcoming SuperBoludos XLVIII, which, as we all know, is a 4-hour spectacle of amazingly good commercials and ridiculous musical dance sequences separated by moments of grabass between Los Piolines de Seattle and Los Denver Mafufos, all while freezing their cojones off in Nueva Jersey.

Personally, I only show up to the family fiesta for the food.  Me vale madre el partido, pero siempre llego lista pa' comer. Invite me to your pachanga and LA Naca will show up, eat your carne asada, chug your chelas and make out with your drunk tío.  What I won't do is show up empty-handed.

And neither should you, bola de sinvergüenzas.

The sure-fire way to make good with the hosts of the pari is by bringing food of the gods.  In this case, I mean guacamole.

In Nahuatl, (I know, I know. Here I go again with my fresa-talk.) āhuacamolli means ground avocados, or in paisa terms, aguacate molido. ¿Me entiéndes, Méndez o te lo explico, Federico?

To put this in nacomáticas...

āhuacamolli = Aguacate molido = guacamole

TOMA.

So, after many years of research and laziness, I've basically done the impossible.  I've perfected the art of guacamole.

If you want to follow in LA Naca's huaraches, first, make a visit to your local mercado and buy everything you see here:

Yes, I have bars on my windows. ¿Y qué?

As for kitchen supplies, all you need is a big knife and a cutting board, preferably not made of cardboard.

Step 1.  Wash everything.  No sean cochinos.

Step 2.  Turn on some music to get this pari started.

Step 3.  Under no circumstances are you allowed to touch your eyes while making this recipe.  ¿Me oyen?

Step 4.  Do all this:

Hay que cortar un manojo de cilantro.  First, cut off the ends.  Get rid of it.  Get it out of my face.  Then chop up the cilantro real fine like.  Then scoot it over to your left like this:

Next comes the fun part.

Take the jalapeño, chop off the stem, then cut it lengthwise down the middle so that it looks like this:

Beautiful, no?  OK, so here's where what you think matters.  Do you want your guacamole with lots of kick or just a little?  For lots, repeat the process to a second jalapeño and keep chopping.  If you want a medium-sized kick, just chop up one.  If you are feeding weaksauces, then take the seeds out of at least half the jalapeño, throw them away, and then continue chopping so that it looks like this:

Now move these over to the left next to the cilantro.  Now, it's cebolla time!  I only used half of a white onion, but I'm not big on onion breath, so it's totally up to you, but let's keep it real.  My way is probably better. 

Un

Dos

Tres

Scoot these over to the left, right next to the jalapeños.  I hope you remembered to take off the outside layers.  Now, come the Roma tomatoes.  

I only used two.  Chop off the ugly top part and then just go to town chopping up the rest.  Slide them on over next to the onions.  At this point, your chopping board should look the most beautiful it's ever looked.

¡Arriba el Tri, cabrones!

Now, throw this masterpiece into a bowl.  I used an 6" mixing bowl.  Nothing fancy.  You handle it however you want.  All I'm saying is, this is what it looks like:

If possible, please don't baba on your electronic devices or into the bowl.

Now, hopefully, you already have some aguacates on hand.  Maybe you have a tree.  Maybe your neighbor does.  Maybe your narco family runs the Caballeros Templarios so you get all the free aguacates you want and without shame. (If so, please wash the blood off your hands before proceeding.)  You can also do what all other paisas do and send your youngest out to buy them at el super.

As for LA Naca, well, I happen to have a supplier who hooks me up with aguacates every Monday.

Un chingo de aguacates.

Green avocados need to be ripened and are totally useless until they mature.  You know they're good when they're black.  I can already hear my comadres agreeing with me.  Go ahead and touch them in the fat, round end, opposite the stem.  If your thumb doesn't feel resistance, you're good to go!  Si todavía están verdes, ponlos en una bolsa de papel con una manzana, cierra la bolsa y déjalos en paz por una día.

Ripe and ready to go.

Now, pick up the same knife you've been using and cut it lengthwise.  Don't be a menso and try to cut through the seed.  And don't cut yourself, either.  Each one should look like this:

This is what sexy looks like.

Now, there's absolutely no need for a spoon at this point.  Put it away.  You'd just making a bigger mess.  All you have to do is just make small little cuts in the avocado...

Así se hace.

And then squeeze them out of the skin and into the bowl.

Please note that I don't have gross Megan Fox thumbs.  You're welcome.

You do the same with the other half and with all other avocados you're using.  If you don't know how to remove the pit, let my homegirl Martha show you how it's done.  Use as many as you want, but I used 4 Hass avocados.

Que chulada.

Next, I took my same knife and mixed everything together in the bowl until it looked like this:

Oro Verde.

Don't you just want to swim in it?  Naked?  No?  I guess that's just me.  Only two more steps left!  Next up, you do what all viejitas do to citrus.  We squeeze the shit out of it.

Action shot!

Now, all you have to do is stir the lime juice in a little more, add a little or a lot of salt and you're done!  

If you want, throw it in a molcajete to make it look like you're ready for marriage and you're good to go!

Muy fanci, esta.

Con una bolsa de totopos (o también se les dice ships de tortilla) y ya estuvo.

I hope you've enjoyed my tutorial on how to be the most fly guest at this Sunday's pari.  

This same recipe can be used for pari time for La Copa Mundial, Las Olimipiadas, or whatever you do instead of going to misa.  Hey, man, it's cool.  I don't judge your Sundays, you don't judge mine.

Hasta mañana.

Carcancha Confundida

¡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.

Hasta mañana.

Palabras Con Amigos

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."

In honor of this maravilla, and the fact that Walter Mercado survived a heart attack, my ass is going to misa tomorrow.

Hasta mañana.

M!erda Que Dice LA Naca

¡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.

Hasta mañana.

Vocab Viernes, Número Uno

Last night, I met the man of my dreams: chulo, chaparro, prieto, paisa, y fabuloso.

That's right, I met my match: a gay, Mexican crafter.  His name is Mark Montano.  I love him.  We're going to get married.  And have a litter of babies.  And watch this until it isn't funny anymore, which is never:

Bonjour, Girl! - watch more funny videos

Or maybe we just become besties and have the greatest time decoupaging la Virgen statues with sequins, tassels and glitter while watching Desperately Seeking Susan.  It could happen.

OK, so my only concern about my new novio is that he might be....a pocho who doesn't speak Spanish!  ¡Hijo de su madre! What am I supposed to do with that??

The truth is that he's not the first pocho in my (pretend or real) love life. After all, I'm still very much in love with Chulo Ethier, and he's a pocho!  But Andre is so phenomenally pretty that I can't see the pocho from beyond the celestial rays that beam around him and his halo of curly canas. (On a side note, congratulations, Andresito, on winning the Gold Glove. I'd really like to make a condom joke right now, but I'll refrain, because first and foremost, I'm a dama.) But I digress...

Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  Gays.  Always with the gays, esta.  Mind you, I am totally OK with having a joto jusband, but if we can't have a secret language to use to make fun of others, then what's the point?  Am I supposed to just STOP ridiculing people?  That's impossible.  In fact, I gave up smack-talking for Lent one year only because I knew once them 40 days and 40 nights were over, I was going to be as obscene as a Bob Saget celebrity roast.

So, what's a naca to do when she's fallen for a(nother) pocho? After much internal struggle, I took a hard look in the mirror and said, "LA Naca, pochos are people, too. Help them. Even the ugly ones. Love them in spite of their inferiority.  Also, pluck your bigote."

Now that the holidays are upon us, I'm reminded that we're approaching the 5 year anniversary of when LA Abogada was called a coconut by her mother.  No, wait.  Her mom said that she wasn't a coconut, but that she spoke Spanish like a coconut. Merry Christmas to you, too, Tía.

LA Doctora and I asked Tía if we spoke like coconuts, too, and she said, "no, just LA Abogada." ¡Chin Martin! In an effort to prevent her from shanking her mom on Christmas Eve, LA Doctora and I persuaded LA Abogada to join us in speaking in an on-the-spot created language we called Coconol, a very distinct Spanish dialect, spoken very well by very few.

Now, back to my new gbf.  So what if pochos can't speak their mother tongue?  The pocho child can't be blamed for having shameful parents who didn't pass on the value of their ancestral language! That's not the pocho's fault!  In the case of LA Abogada, she is not a pocha and she speaks Spanish. Personally, I think the holidays bring out the real putas in us which sometimes cause us to say pendejadas just to be heard. Luckily, we took what was supposed to be harsh criticism and created a cultural phenomenon!  Well, that might be a bit of a stretch.  But there is some growing interest in Coconol!  In fact, LA Abogada even made flashcards. She made them for a coworker so that she, too, could learn this exotic language.  They come complete with illustrations and pronunciation guide. I'm so happy these were inadvertently found in a drawer. (And by found, I mean stolen.)

So, in an attempt at de-pochification (and obviously to assist in the Reconquista, because that'll happen) here on Mi Vida Naca, I'm using the English/Spanish vocabulary flash cards LA Abogada made for our first lesson.  Cocos, pochos y nacos unidos nunca seremos vencidos!

Let's start off with some simple terms:

1. I like = me gusta (I'm not gonna lie. I'm really hoping a "no me gusta" flashcard will be sent to me soon.)

2. I love it = me encanta (It literally means it enchants me, but no one talks like that.)

3. question = pregunta (Quite possibly my favorite Coconol pronunciation.)

Alright, now that we have the basics down, let's babystep our way onward and upward.

4. gossip = cheese (Learn this and use it on the regular.)

(Sometimes, Coconol requires English to English translation.)

5. lovely or nice = lindo/a (Not just a woman's name. Alas, why haven't I ever met a man named Lindo?)

6. tell me = dime (An imperative verb most often used in conjunction with flashcard #4.)

7. delicious = sabroso (I'm on the fence with the translation on this one, but it still gets the point across.)

8. the bean = el frijol (The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf is our preferred fresa meeting spot in all of NacoLAndia.)

9. rage = coraje (MY FAVORITE FLASHCARD! Also, a term not heard nearly as often as it is seen.)

10. so much craziness = tanta locura (Do I tell her it's misspelled? What if she stops making flashcards? No, what if she shanks me for correcting her?!?)

OK, pochos.  There you have it.  Your very first Spanish vocab lesson. For Spanish speakers, here's your first Coconol vocab lesson.  Now, what would really make LA Naca's day is if you would please create the best sentences ever using the vocab terms above. That goes for my new novio, Mark, too, should he happen to find this blog by googling himself.  Muchas gracias.

Am I skipping over the fact that this is my first post this year?  Sí.  ¿Y qué?

Hasta mañana.