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»

When I step out of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport it’s so hot it feels like my eyeballs are cooking in my head.

“It’s been 110 degrees for 3 days straight,” the van-man says.

That would be perfect if I was in town to cure meat.

“Take me to the bone yard my good man - and step on it.”

He shoots me a confused look.

“We only go to Sun City,” he says.

“Close enough. But hurry man. I have delicate skin.” read more»

gutter girls

oh crap, sam’s gone off again. over on prima panama he’s hacked-up a posting entitled “immigration stupidity at the border.” it’s his angry reaction to border officials turning away ticket-less tourists.

careful sam. you might just get deported. you know, i used to be like sam. i cared about immigration. i even wrote several impassioned articles about the problem.

but i’m over it. i’ve listened to my readers. and i’ve returned to the gutter where i belong.

read more»