How to Blame a Mexican in One Easy Step

I just burnt my thumb and forefinger while cooking tortillas over the direct flame of the stove top, and for just a moment, I blamed those damn Mexicans for teaching me that trick. Then, for another moment, I wished I had a young son, so I could teach him how to blame Mexicans as well.

“Daddy, how did you burn your fingers?”
“Son, I burned my fingers because those damn Mexicans taught me to cook tortillas on the stove top.”

“Daddy, how did you lose your pinky toe?”
“Son, those damn Mexicans taught me how to do all of my lawn care, from mowing, edging and even trimming the hedges, by using a weed whacker. But they didn’t tell me not to wear flip flops while doing it.”

“Daddy, why are we so fat?”
“Son, it was those damn Mexicans and their food that did this to us.”

“Daddy, how did you chip your tooth?”
“Son, I fell down on my face last summer. You see, Tecate beer is refreshing on a hot summer day, especially with lime in it. And, it’s brewed in Mexico and sent out in 30 pack cubes by those damn Mexicans.”

“But, daddy, how is that me and my three brothers and two sisters are Latino?”
“Son, that’s because your mother is a hot ass, damn Mexican, and she won’t let me wear a condom.”