Dear Mexican: After working with Mexicans for years, I have noticed that Mexican men have a double standard when it comes to homosexuality. Why is it that the "giver" is not regarded as being just as gay as the "receiver"?
Dear Cowboy Gabacho: I think all heterosexual societies condemn the catcher more than the pitcher, ¿qué no? If it seems Mexicans exaggerate this idiotic double standard more than others, then blame their pendejo ancestors. The Aztecs reserved the death sentence for a cuiloni (their term for the reamed in a homosexual tryst), while the Spaniards just killed anyone who practiced the amor that dare not speak its name. Some revisionist historians argue that the Spaniards distorted Aztec homophobia to reflect their own views (read "Aztec Homosexuality: The Textual Evidence," by Geoffrey Kimball, for a fascinating comparison of modern-day translations of Aztec codices with those written by seventeenth-century padres that most of the world cites when referencing Mexican mores), but what's indisputable is that the confluence of two macho societies created a hyper-masculinized raza cósmica that frowns upon gay men unless they're flamin'. Times are changing, though: Last year, Mexico City approved civil unions for gays and lesbians, a small step on the road to eradicating Mexico's rampant joto-hating and more proof of initiative than virtually every American municipality not governed by the mariposa agenda can show.
Dear Mexican: Why do people think Mexicans have small dicks? My novio sure doesn't!
Dear Gabacha: And neither do I, chula! Lies aside, correlating penis length to ethnicity is a science as imprecise as building a border fence to keep out Mexicans. Out of hundreds of shlong-sized surveys the Mexican consulted, almost all concluded that the average Mexican verga ranked below gabachos and negritos on the pipi scale but ahead of chinitos. Who cares? It's not the tamaño of the ship, but the motion of the oceano that matters. Besides, Mexican men don't obsess about how much chorizo they pack, as gabachos do; we're usually more concerned with beating them in the fertility game. And in that concern, Mexicans are a veritable John Holmes to the gabachos' Howard Stern.
Dear Mexican: Why is it that Mexicans are always making out in the park? Do trees make them horny?
Your Friendly Neighborhood Park Watcher
Dear Gabacho: Por favor, be more sympathetic to the plight of such Mexicans. Many of them still live at home with parents, or room with a dozen other people, meaning privacy is impossible. No-tell motels cost too much, and their paramour probably lives in a similar situation. The only places for such folks to steal some kisses are the back seats of cars and parks. Let Mexicans make out, pervert! As long as they're not putting the moves on you, you shouldn't worry. And if letting wabs get their rocks off doesn't sit well with you, then refry this: Mexicans are art lovers, and we love to re-create Manet's "The Luncheon on the Grass" whenever possible.
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