You know that I have 3 jobs, tres trabajos, verdad? I can count them on each of my remaining 3 fingers (aye, wonder how that happened? Hint, they weren’t bitten off by the Los Minis tag team). After kicking some nalgas in the ring, I cross the Mexican border, back to Estados Unidos to operate the turbo ride at the carnival, as well as man the illuminated dime toss game (sponsored by The Seeing I 501.c3). Now, when it comes to ruling the world, el mundo grande, I need a few amigos to assist me (only just a few). This is where YOU come in, me luchadors in training.
Oye, I want me luchador’s to listen up. Now is NOT the time to jump into the ring and fight it out. The luchador at the top, eh, me, have a real grande plan, and I’m gonna need you to stay alive. Escucha, my strategy is this…
Comprende, you know I’m a professional, I don’t make mistakes…ever. So realize that the obvious stupidity of my Boston blowout story is purposeful. Aye aye aye… that fat slob Hegel guy eat’s more bagels than they fattest luchador around! Y my ‘derelictic’ creates problemas, so that I might offer solutions the audience so much deserves. My ‘illegal’ slam down move was done in clear view for the following razons:
- To test how gullible the audience still is
- Create a distraction for all my other sneaky finger operations (slip my hand in your wallet and finger in su culo)
- Force laws in the stadium that will force both the audience and the ‘on the fence good guy luchadors’ to accept cavity searches before entering the ring
- Make it easier to list audience members as enemy luchadors
- Test the audiences willingness to have their casas searched by transvestite luchadors who confiscate anything the home owner may have to protect themselves
Esperete! But wait, there’s more…THE MAS IMPORTANTE REASONS FOLLOW:
- I did this to sucker the ‘on the fence luchadors’. I want them to get enraged and attack me! Ya know…flush them out of the crowd. All I need them to do is to jump in the ring before their match time. At that point, I’ll have every right to slaughter them with the ferocity of a luchador on crack. Besides, the audience is snoring between matches. I can hear them now, saying after they awaken, ‘Those luchadors deserved the whipping they got, get their bloodied bodies off the mat’.
- Uno mas vez, uh, one more thing paisanos… (this is only for those luchadors who wish to be at my right hand), I did this to create yet another hypnotic suggestion. One that makes little sense to the right brain, one that looks to usurp attention to manifest an objective, one that has everything to do with a particular ‘flood’ that is about to occur in su bano.
Oye, better get into your boat in Watertown!
Join the fiesta me luchadors, never a better time to celebrate a real cool hombres birthday anniversary, and a great finish line address.
Los illusions are based on life, death, and regeneration.
Viva El Luchador!