Mexi-Cans

Americans have become very lazy. There is very little physical labor that our children do anymore. It used to be that if young Bobby wanted to buy a comic book, he had to get his lazy fucking ass off the couch and go do some work. Fortunately, old Mr. Hopkins down the street needed his picket fence painted white every other month and would pay a handsome 25 cents for a job well done. Little Bobby is filled with joy to start immediately and paints the fucking fence in no time. The problem is that some Americans tried to get smart. Notice I said ‘tried’. Little Bobbys around the country began to realize that if they found 50 people like Mr. Hopkins, they could hire younger kids to paint a fence for a nickel, and then keep the 20 cents as profit.

One neighborhood kid would be running a ten-child fence painting service while sitting on their ass and raking in dough. Not so bad right? Wrong you douche bags. Bobby would grow up with this mentality of hiring cheap labor and sitting around on his ass, eating fast food and accumulating high amounts of cholesterol in his arteries. The four heart attacks he has now drive up health insurance and end up costing me my hard earned dollars. I have to pay a $40.00 co-pay BEFORE I even get to see the doctor about my broken hand from punching retards like that daily. Fuck you Bobby, little shit head.

Anyways, all the little greedy white kids wanted to be a Bobby, so they began to move up in the business. Soon rednecks took on the painting and low-end labor jobs, but surprisingly, they too wanted a promotion. Eventually it came to point where no American wanted to do the work to make this fucking nation look nice and stay clean. Who comes to the aid? MEXICO. A swarm of Mexicans rushed in to fill the vacuum of open labor positions.

Let’s move to the present day now and be honest. Have you ever seen a homeless Mexican standing around a barrel fire with white and black bums shooting the shit? I don’t fucking think so. Even saying ‘homeless Mexican’ is an oxy moron. A Mexican could make a three-story condo out of 35 taco shells, balsa wood and some duct tape, yet your average bum chooses to sleep on park benches. Have you ever seen a bunch of Mexicans off work at 4pm for happy hour at the local pub? Fuck no. Those sons of bitches are working till at least 7pm. Then they go to Wendy’s and order off the extra value menu. They go where other Mexicans are working so they can get the fucking hookup.

Mexicans are fucking resilient and thrifty. That’s why the Survivor TV series has never had a REAL Mexican on the show. They may have had Emilio Garciapara from Los Angeles, who owns his own insurance company and is 2nd generation Hispanic/Spanish mix, who might last a few episodes, but nothing compared to a true Mexican. Survivor fears real Mexicans because they would win the show every time. In fact, the other contestants would see a Mexican’s true skill on the first day and either give up or drown themselves when the realized they didn’t stand a fucking chance. The white, black and Chinese people spend their days fighting other clans, hunting and fishing. A Mexican would wake up, make peace with other clans by making them burritos and beer; then fish, hunt, and build a boat, all while simultaneously jumping through rings of fire, running across tight ropes and wrestling sharks.

Mexicans, like all people in the country, wish to climb the economic ladder to financial freedom. One thing I have noticed is that Mexicans have a very distinct way of going about it and they do it exactly the same way too.

Let’s start at the very beginning of the Mexican journey through life, which is upon entry into the United States.



The Mexican then gets a job at a trench digging company. What the hell is a trench digging company you may be asking? Fuck if I know, I always so those fuckers out there digging something up. Remember douche bags, this is the ‘fence painting job’ that no one wants to do.



The Mexican then gets his first car.

The Mexican gets a job at a landscaping company. The job pays better and the Mexican begins to experience the basic feeling of financial stability. He purchases this car:


After a few years this man becomes a Hispanic landscaping wonder. He is a pro. There isn’t a bush he can’t trim, a tree he cant prune or a field he cant mow. In fact, the son of a bitch has transcended using machinery and cuts lawns with his bare hands.



You will also notice that Mexicans never eat at Taco Bell or Taco Johns. Sadly, this perplexes many people. I can explain it to those confused souls in 5-8 words. IT IS NOT MEXICAN FOOD YOU FUCK HEADS. I don’t think the preferred dish of families in the heart of the Mexican country side would be a Seven Layer Crunch-Wrap Supreme, two Steak Baja Gorditias, a 24 oz. Mountain Dew and 5 packets of fire sauce with shitty jokes on them.

To prove my case even further that Mexicans are the shit are and you are not, I spent some time touring around my home town observing and gathering data. I meticulously analyzed the type of people in the landscaping business for almost a month. After compiling all the data, I carefully organized it and came out with the chart below.