That’s right folks, it’s Cinco De Mayo, the celebration of Mexico’s unlikely victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla in 1862.

Or as we call it in the good old USA, “Shots!”

Yes, let’s grab some cheap tequila… no…. that one there with the plastic sombrero for a cap… and anything labeled “Margarita Mix”, and celebrate the people who do the jobs we won’t do, while simultaneously blaming them for taking our jobs! Let’s raise a glass to those proud, hard working… why the fuck isn’t there a worm? There’s supposed to be a goddamn worm! I wanted to eat the worm and hallucinate! I’m gonna beat the crap out of the bartender…..

Let’s stumble along from party to party, bar to bar, talking in our best “Speedy Gonzalez” accents, until that cheap ass souvenir sombrero (that nobody remembers having when this drunken fiasco started) begins to deteriorate, becoming a sad, pathetic metaphor for all the “fun” we’re having.

Then we’ll just put the old body on auto pilot, and keep drinking until we black the fuck out.

As usual we will wake up on Seis de Mayo, the traditional Mexican observance of sick, drunken Anglo idiots wandering home from whatever unfamiliar location they woke up in next to a pile of vomit, which they can only presume is their own, comprised of partially digested 7/11 burrito and a disturbing number of earthworms.

Happy Cinco De Mayo!