Ahhh, Mexico. You’re so great. You’re just right there next door. Like the cute but slutty neighbor across the hall. I know that when I get home drunk at 3 in the morning and knock on your border you’ll always let me in for the night. And you’ll cook me a late night snack, before or after sex, whenever I’m hungry. If I lose a button right on my favorite shirt before I go out for a date with a hot Eastern European girl you’ll be right there to sew it back on my shirt before I go on. Sometimes I think I don’t appreciate you enough.
You know, I think sometimes that I don’t tell you enough how much I love you. You’re always there for me, with your perfect white sandy beaches, great fresh food, super nice cute Latina girls who love everything I do, excellent prices, super close proximity to home, and insane full speed ahead partying in Mexico City.
If I knew what was really good for me I’d just settle down with you. You are just so nice. You cook, you clean, you do laundry, you tell me how great I am and thank me for fucking you whenever I feel like it. And if I just want to watch football you’ll just sit there next to me and smile happily at being near me, and cheer for whatever team I’m cheering for. God bless you.
It’s so weird that you’re so nice right there across the border from me. My American girl roommate is such a bitch. She never cleans up after me, and barely after herself. I usually have to pay her rent because she’s waiting for the right “career opportunity” to come by that’s not “below her level of qualifications.” She’s always walking around in sweatpants and with her hair undone and no makeup and saying stupid shit. Remember when I knocked on your door at 2 am because we had a fight? You let me in, gave me a beer and then put on high heels and makeup before coming to give me a massage and make me a snack.
Really, I think we’ll end up together in the end. After I get this whole traveling the world and tasting the fruit of all the best that it has to offer, I see us living together in a little casita, drinking Mexican beer like in the Corona commercials and growing old as we watch the sun set over the Pacific Ocean. Except we’ll be drinking Pacifico, my favorite Mexican beer. Nobody really drinks Corona in Mexico.
I love you, Mexico.