Highly doubtful. (I've personally handled Mexican "dynamite" and let me tell you, it's weak!)
So why the big urge to go out and celebrate something that has little bearing on our country? I don't know, but I did tip my sombrero to my neighbors to the south by cooking up a meal that resembled some of Oaxaca's Finest: Turkey tacos, refried black beans, mexican rice, and the "piece de resistance," fried ice cream. No, I didn't make my own fried ice cream...it actually is a flavor that I found at the store. It amazingly tastes just like the real McCoy, or should I say, the real Martinez!


Tracking!!! Tracking!!!!
Of course, with a movie that old, I've got it memorized. No kidding. I could probably go through it and quote every line. But that gets boring after a while, a futile exercise that makes you realize that you're probably never going to get that 2 hrs of your life back (or 90 minutes, as they made 'em back in the old days).
So was it a waste? Seeing Ned, Lucky and Dusty play the fools, only to end up being rewarded by justice in the end? Far from it.
For me, the supporting cast makes the movie one of the best Lorne Michaels films ever: Jefe, El Guapo, The German, The Bartender. They all play integral parts that keep the story ticking...like a "stopvotch." Besides, I'm convinced that the word "plethora" was brought into everyone's vocabulary and made popular in the American lexicon by that pinata conversation between Jefe and El Guapo.
Jefe: I have put many beautiful pinatas in the storeroom, each of them filled with little suprises.
El Guapo: Many pinatas?
Jefe: Oh yes, many!
El Guapo: Would you say I have a plethora of pinatas?
Jefe: A what?
El Guapo: A *plethora*.
Jefe: Oh yes, you have a plethora.
El Guapo: Jefe, what is a plethora?
Jefe: Why, El Guapo?
El Guapo: Well, you told me I have a plethora. And I just would like to know if you know what a plethora is. I would not like to think that a person would tell someone he has a plethora, and then find out that that person has *no idea* what it means to have a plethora.
Maybe that's what we have to be thankful about on the 5th of May....
....Now if I could only get that damn singing bush out of my head!
2 comments:
She'll be coming around the mountain when she comes....had a mule her name is Sall, fifteen miles on the Eerie Canal.....
Fattenings? Es like beer.
Damn you! That Erie Canal song is the one that tends to stick on the brain!
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