Monday, May 07, 2007

Cinco de What Now?

I didn't realize that I'd stopped celebrating Cinco de Mayo until someone asked me last week if I had *big* plans for the weekend.

You know, in that eye-brow raised way where you know they're expecting some kind of impressive and slightly debaucherous (now a word) response. Like how people ask about your trip to Vegas *wink wink*.

I had no idea what they were referring to since I haven't been to Vegas in over a year (sad) and the only plans I had in mind for the weekend were to take Jada to a new park and see Spiderman 3 (suckfest) with Bubba. Nothing lewd and salacious there. Not even with all the butt sniffing going on at the dog park.

Then it dawned on me. They were talking about Cinco de Mayo.


I'll tell you this about Cinco de Mayo: Mmm, no.

I might be getting old and boring, but still, no.

Although we did end up at Del Taco yesterday where we enjoyed some Del Scorcho sauce on our quesadillas and absorbed some local culture which happened to be parked/camping next to the drive through.

Yes, that is a slow burning campfire right there on the pavement. Yes, we realize their existence had nothing at all to do with Cinco de Mayo. But it's as close as we got to drunk weirdos and strange cleavage all weekend, and that was the point.

As it happens, Bubba and I don't revel in this holiday, much as we don't revel in most holidays. Mostly because they all seem to involve bad parking, hordes of stinky ill-behaved people operating under the guise of "festive cheer" and expensive low-grade food.

However, there was nowhere to hide from the sirens that carried through the night or the rumbling thunderstorms which passed regularly by our house disguised as iridescent Oldsmobiles. So, in a way, we did experience Cinco de Mayo in one way or another.

And, our weekend *did* involve drinking and merriment, albeit of a different variety. The variety that includes an Australian Syrah instead of overpriced margaritas made with cheap mix and a lot of time in the sunshine of our backyard where the only fights that got broken up were those between Jada and Rocket when someone's nose got too close to someone's hind end.

And who says we're not festive?


  1. Yeah, I hear ya. We celebrated with Taco Cabana breakfast tacos, which were sub-par at best, but it was more of a coincidence. There was that, and then I was puzzled by a strange little immigration protest we passed; hours later I realized it was 5/5 and wished my love a feliz Cinco de Mayo. Ole!

  2. hahaha! I can't believe that pic! Funny :)

  3. Is it sad that man's breasts are obviously larger (and more tanned) than mine?

  4. We celebrated Cinco de Mayo at home with Italian Pizza, Corona and a video.

  5. this is hilarious. i found your blog through have me laughing my ass off.

  6. Ok let me get this straight those people are literally camping in a restaurant parking lot???? Like full on camping with a camp fire & everything??? That is totally cracking me up! I have to send it to my mom!!! We always joke that the WalMart parking lot is America’s camp ground but this is just classic!

  7. Meg - Were there naked man-boobs at Taco Cabana? This is our new hallmark of Cinco de Mayo. Viva los boobies!

    dMarie - I couldn't either. I was, at that moment, so glad I always carry my camera with me. And also glad that Bubba was in the passenger seat and able to snap the pic while I ordered our taco bonanza WITH FRIES. Love Del Taco.

    Kell - I wouldn't take it too personally. His are furry, too and you don't want that.

    TinkerBlue - I think that is a perfect adaptation of the holiday for personal enjoyment. Who doesn't love corona and pizza anyway? Only commie bastards, that's who.

    string - Welcome! Always glad there are people out there who *aren't* offended by my world view.

    melisa - Oh you have it right - IN THE PARKING LOT. Right next to the Del Taco drive thru no less. The fact that they'd busted out their lawn chairs and stripped their shirts off was just icing on the cake. A fire? Is that legal? No. But it IS funny.

  8. OMG. That's frickin hilarous. No, really. It doesn't get much better than parking lot campfires.

    Something is vaguely coming back to me about the MTB's old nickname for me... was it not Scorchita or something? Ask him if he remembers.... Hey bubba, do you remember? I think it had something to do with PWBATTCCA initiation rites...

    Wine in the garden sounds lurvely. I am going to work on making my terrace presentable for a BBQ on Saturday... your magical handiwork has miraculously survived my ability to inadvertently kill all green things.


[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.