TO THE COMMITTEE TO ELECT BALBINA HERRERA:

I would like to write for, and assist Balbina’s campaign for president of Panama. Who am I? Think of me as a pot smoking Karl Rove, but with a bigger penis and better music collection.

I’m not cheap. I’m American. So I’ll need a starting salary of at least $100k, my own government issue 4×4 with tinted windows and bulletproof glass.

Of course I’ll expect you to provide me with an assistant. She should be young, very bendy, and like to get it on with old gringos. A nymphomaniac gymnast would be nice. But please, nobody from San Miguelito. I really can’t afford to catch the clap again. read more»

I’ve always enjoyed Thanksgiving in Panama: the music tipico, “chicha fuerte”, and those funny conquistador hats. I remember one year we cooked up a conejo. Another time we broiled an iguana.

At least I was told it was iguana. It could have been monkey balls for all I know. Not that I’m complaining. Everyone knows Panama has some of the finest monkey balls in the world.

The best thing about Thanksgiving in Panama is that I don’t have to do too much. You know the culture. The women do all the cooking and cleaning. The men do all the drinking and complaining. And everyone’s happy as long as there’s enough to eat.

Unfortunately, I was in Arizona this year. And I was invited to dine with Mormons; or as I like to call them, my vaguely racist relatives. Now my family is too old to cook. They mostly sit around in their magic underwear watching Fox news and complaining about liberals, illegals, and activist judges.

In other words, my family has outlived their usefulness to society. read more»

“Everyone always wanted a piece of Cojito,” says longtime girlfriend Alex Diaz.

One gringo wanted Cojito’s collection of soiled stripper panties. Another man just wanted Cojito to start writing again.

A half-empty bottle of Abuelo, an unopened box of extra large condoms, and a lid of Torrijos brand hydro, purchased just before the big bust over on Calle Uruguay, were among the items auctioned off yesterday by Alex Diaz, from her hut atop a muddy hill in Arraiján.

Cojito and Alex lived together from 2004-2008. During that time Cojito wrote for Panama After Hours, and in his free time taught underprivileged natives the value of irony. Most of the items sold were from the apartment the couple shared in El Cangrejo. read more»