Yesterday was the family reunion.
That was... interesting.
I showed up at 7:30, like I said I would.
For the most part, I was ok. I was smiling a lot because the relatives I care for showed up... and together, we made fun of the occasion.
Me: So... where the tacos good?
(I guess I should explain that I did not have a bite or drink at this party. I brought my own liter of water and I ate before showing up. I still paid my motherfucking share, but I'll get into that in a second)
Cousin X: Definitely not 100 dollars worth.
This exchange would make me laugh (EVERYONE I spoke to had that reaction)... because I did mention we were being charged to go to this shit, right ($100 per family, or $25-$30 a person)? But I do believe I failed to inform that we were going to be eating TACOS at the shindig.
We each paid $25 for TACOS.
MEXICANS PAID SOMEONE TO PREPARE THEM TACOS...
The taco man supposedly cost all of us TWENTY-FIVE (some paid 30... poor suckers) DOLLARS PER PERSON.
Tacos you can buy at TACOS MEXICO... you know, the ones with the baby tortillas... THE 99 CENT TACOS.
Have I managed to make my point here?
The two ladies responsible for throwing this FAMILY REUNION tried convincing US Vegas relatives that we were paying the $25 for TACOS (goddamn it, I'm going to say that motherfucking word until you hate it as much as I do). Drinks we had to pay for at the bar. Yeah, that's right, drinks NOT included in the $25 entry fee.
LadyThrowingTheParty (Maggie): These tacos are REALLY GOOD, trust me!
Yeah... no. From what I saw (and heard) I make better tacos... and I've only been in the business of making my own tacos for the last two months or so... so... I better start setting up shop, make some dough off of lazy Mexicans.
What made me cuss and get angry was the fact that I believed this dumb broad about the entry fee... her supposed reasons.
She said the place were the party was being held cost her two grand to rent.
Apparently this bitch doesn't use her fucking head when lying... or at least she doesn't put enough effort into the fucking process, and she forgot the lady who OWNS the place is my dad's 1st cousin... his favorite one. So what did Dad do? He talked to his cousin. He made her believe he wanted to throw a family reunion for their family, the D's, and he was curious to know how much it would cost him to rent the place out.
Dad'sCousin: Oh, I'd have to give you my family discount. For you, it'd be... 800.
Dad: That's cool. I'll think about it.
Dad'sCousin'sHusband: Yo, J, I'll rent it to you for 700.
Dad: Oh wow, I don't want you to lose too much in this. That price is just making me feel bad. A $1,300 discount? I'd be robbing you guys!
Dad'sCousin'sHusband: What are you talking about? We rent this place for a thousand.
... Once I heard that, I was outraged.
I mean, it's one thing to get a profit out of throwing a party for strangers, because it's your job or whatever the fuck.
But to profit off of your family under the guise that it's a "family function"... ? What the fuck are you thinking? My parents don't bust their ass working from sun up to sun down so that YOU can have a sweet-ass life. Get a real job... or be upfront and say "Yo, this is my job, I need to make money." Don't make my folks, as well as the rest of the family, fork up dough with lies.
What infuriates me most is that the poor folks who came form out of town have NO CLUE this went on. NO CLUE.
They stayed over at the homes of these women and their immediate family, so Out-of-Town family thinks it's all roses with us.
Looking around at the party yesterday, it was obvious who was from out of town-- they were smiling and dancing.
We locals were sitting down, pissed off, usually staring at the motherfucking taco set-up... or the bar... clearly thinking "BULLSHIT!!!"
Now I'm going to stop talking about it, because I feel like I'm going to pass out from holding my breath for so long (I do it because it's the most effective way I hold back from yelling obscenities).
Let's move on to today... which can best be described like this:
FUTBOL.
I cussed, screamed, kicked, jumped... all of that shit, all while watching the female's World Cup finale.
Nothing against the Japanese squad, if I wanted anyone to win this aside from the US, it was them (after watching them rape Mexico 4-0, I knew those chicks were no joke). I agree with everyone who says that country deserves good news after such a tough start to the year. But the US had SO MANY opportunities to take this. It was their fucking match to lose... and that they CLEARLY did. Those penalties... I should have recorded myself, because I doubt I have EVER cussed and screamed that hard in my life. I was furious. Way to suck out, US.
So my chest hurt from that moment on... then I switched it to the spanish channel.
I had been switching back and forth form the women's game to the Brazil-Paraguay game, which was going in the same direction as the women's game.
The B-P game also went to penalties, and by then, the women's game was over.
Brazil missed all of their penalties.
THAT made me laugh... and the heavy weight lift off my chest.
I also cussed when that happened... form joy, obviously, because I dislike the Brazilian soccer team... since Mom, D, and Rafa love them (yeah, when they were killing it in the World Cups. I resisted).
I then went ahead and watched a third match, Venezuela-Chile. I bet Dad Venezuela was going to win, he went with Chile... and I only bet because HE suggested it (he swears he knows more than I do when it comes to soccer. It's like me claiming I know more about cars than he does. I've been watching soccer since I have use of memory... Dad watches it sporadically, when his workers won't shut the fuck up about it and he has to try and act like he knows what's going on. Cars, on the other hand, I'd rather stay away from. I know when I like a car... and I know how to change a flat tire... but aside from that, I'm fucking lost. Dad has been working with cars for two thirds of his life... he definitely knows more than I do). Since there was a bet on the line, I became emotionally invested in the game... and the colorful language began to fly.
This game was pretty intense to watch.
Venezuela's defense is... something else.
Who came out victorious? Venezolanos, baby!
Did I get paid? No. Dad just laughed in my face.
Bunch-a-bullshit.
High-five for dirty mouths! It prevents many (ME!) some mean-ass tachycardia.
Looking around at the party yesterday, it was obvious who was from out of town-- they were smiling and dancing.
We locals were sitting down, pissed off, usually staring at the motherfucking taco set-up... or the bar... clearly thinking "BULLSHIT!!!"
Now I'm going to stop talking about it, because I feel like I'm going to pass out from holding my breath for so long (I do it because it's the most effective way I hold back from yelling obscenities).
Let's move on to today... which can best be described like this:
FUTBOL.
I cussed, screamed, kicked, jumped... all of that shit, all while watching the female's World Cup finale.
Nothing against the Japanese squad, if I wanted anyone to win this aside from the US, it was them (after watching them rape Mexico 4-0, I knew those chicks were no joke). I agree with everyone who says that country deserves good news after such a tough start to the year. But the US had SO MANY opportunities to take this. It was their fucking match to lose... and that they CLEARLY did. Those penalties... I should have recorded myself, because I doubt I have EVER cussed and screamed that hard in my life. I was furious. Way to suck out, US.
So my chest hurt from that moment on... then I switched it to the spanish channel.
I had been switching back and forth form the women's game to the Brazil-Paraguay game, which was going in the same direction as the women's game.
The B-P game also went to penalties, and by then, the women's game was over.
Brazil missed all of their penalties.
THAT made me laugh... and the heavy weight lift off my chest.
I also cussed when that happened... form joy, obviously, because I dislike the Brazilian soccer team... since Mom, D, and Rafa love them (yeah, when they were killing it in the World Cups. I resisted).
I then went ahead and watched a third match, Venezuela-Chile. I bet Dad Venezuela was going to win, he went with Chile... and I only bet because HE suggested it (he swears he knows more than I do when it comes to soccer. It's like me claiming I know more about cars than he does. I've been watching soccer since I have use of memory... Dad watches it sporadically, when his workers won't shut the fuck up about it and he has to try and act like he knows what's going on. Cars, on the other hand, I'd rather stay away from. I know when I like a car... and I know how to change a flat tire... but aside from that, I'm fucking lost. Dad has been working with cars for two thirds of his life... he definitely knows more than I do). Since there was a bet on the line, I became emotionally invested in the game... and the colorful language began to fly.
This game was pretty intense to watch.
Venezuela's defense is... something else.
Who came out victorious? Venezolanos, baby!
Did I get paid? No. Dad just laughed in my face.
Bunch-a-bullshit.
High-five for dirty mouths! It prevents many (ME!) some mean-ass tachycardia.
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