291 Newsletter
12/04/99
Confessions Of A Mexican
It happened when I was three.
I was just standing there, minding my own business, when all of a sudden a horde of dirty cannibals came out of nowhere and abducted me.
I hadn't been asked to go with them. In fact, I politely requested them to leave me alone. They took me anyway, and within moments of first laying my eyes upon their blood-encrusted spears and headdresses festooned with shrunken heads I was hauled off unceremoniously after they tied me up with a piece of vine. My dog Lobo, a little yet spunky terrier, yapped and pranced around their feet, just threatening to maul all of them should they try to take off with me. He then launched himself at one of the cannibals and completely failed to rip out the neanderthal's jugular in a spectacular display of instinctive animal prowess and cunning reflexes.
As they carried me back to wherever our destination was (they had tied me up in a double-looped slipshank knot), I reflected on my current options. Being three, I hadn't quite fully developed my natural athletic abilities, and was outnumbered anyway by a good 17 to 3. I noticed on course of our already four and a half minute journey that our normal West Texas desert environment had changed rather mysteriously into tropical jungle. The dark underbrush shifted with our approaching steps as monkeys, birds and insects chirped and chattered in the foliage overhead a wild yet strangely beautiful cacophony of sound.
Soon we arrived at a small village tucked away deep in the dark heart of the jungle. In the center a massive black pot boiled a vile broth, and various inhabitants of the motley collection of huts milled about doing cannibal things. My captors paraded me triumphantly about the village, ending by hoisting me up above the pot. My life flashed before my eyes. It was rather depressing as to how short it was, and I couldn't even get any slow-motion replays.
As I dangled precariously over the pot (well, not really precariously, as it was a double-looped slipshank knot), a drum roll sounded. At the far end of the village, the door flew open at the largest hut, and a rather portly man stepped out in a fantastic headress. Behind him, three buxom young women stepped out. The man seemed to be of much importance, as immediately most of the village fell groveling before him, all except those who were holding me over the pot.
"Kie wanna wanga!" he bellowed with outstretched hands. The three lovely young women stepped forward towards the pot, obviously getting ready to add some spices or something. However, something made them all stop before reaching the pot.
This obviously wasn't meant to happen, as the stout and now irritated man asked some question, then bellowed another statement. The three lovely ladies launched into some sort of argument. Although the man was quite obviously some sort of chief, it soon became apparent that he was going to lose the argument. He stormed off back to the hut soon, and the ladies seemed extremely relieved. The village sort of stood around as if in shock. I was sure that whatever had just happened was not a common occurrence.
I was taken down and released, and they lead me away into another hut across the village.
That was how I came to live with the savages. I soon picked up the language, and quickly became a regular tribal member. They taught me how to hunt, forage, tie a double-looped slipshank knot, and the tastiness of a medium rare human calf. Pillaged, raped and plundered with them.
By this time I was seven and ready to face the world on my own. Before I could leave, I had to go thank those three lovely young buxom women. I asked them why they saved this poor little Mexican boy when it meant that the village wouldn't eat that night. That's when they told me something about myself that would change the rest of my life. It was something that they had noticed when they first saw me, something they knew that the rest of the world had to experience.
They told me I was, am, and would always be The Sexiest Man Alive.
I spent the next five years of my life hitchhiking along the Australian plains. I met a very interesting family of koalas that took me in as a son for three of those years. They taught me many things about life, the universe, and everything. They taught me to always use my inherent sexiness for good. Mostly though, they taught me to always be polite, treat my everybody as friends, and about my number one enemy-white people.
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate all white people. In fact, there have been some really spiffy white people. The Beatles for one. Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, and Alan Greenspan are all white. Dave Matthews comes to mind as an incredibly spiffy white man. However, as a whole, there just hasn't been much else to thank white people for. The koalas helped me realize this and many other things about the universe.
After Australia came my greenish-purple period, where I spent a lot of time drinking iced tea and taking long baths. I mean, I took some monumental baths. Lasted for weeks, even months, some of them. You wouldn't believe how many interesting things you can do with a soap dish.
That pretty mush brings me to where I am today. I am a student at Rice University. I have managed to hide my sexiness from most of the rest of the world under the careful and clever guise of a mild-mannered debate nerd. Every once in a while, though, some young lady will recognize my true nature and throw herself upon me in a frenzy of hormones.
I continue my quest against the tyranny and oppression of the white man. I have made several significant steps towards realizing my ultimate dream of a non-whitey society, though most of the advancements have been hidden from the public eye until the master plan can be set into action. I must go now, though. Duty calls.