Growing up in my small Zacatecan village, I never thought I would be so assimilated that I would prefer Taco Bell chalupas to the bacon-wrapped hot dogs served from dubious carts on the narrow streets of my childhood.
That is why I turn to porn for authenticity and have been saving Hustler’s Little Latina Cum Queens (“these hot & spicy senoritas love to get covered in cum!”) for today, el Cinco de Mayo, since I can’t return to mi tio‘s banana boat and hear the the soft dobro playing of mis abuelas in the shade of the guarana tree, the sounds of revoluccion echoing through the arroyos, the hijos living in fear of la chupacabra, and the vindication of our village when Zorro liberated us from los banditos.
OK, I’m not from Mexico.
But if I were, I would still wonder why cover girl Renae Cruz says not so much as an “Ay Papi” in this movie and Veronique Vega (“I’ll let you see my bewbs”) sounds more like a San Fernando Valley girl than an (insert name of valley in Mexico because I’m too lazy to go back to Wikipedia again here) girl. What’s worse is that Laurie Vargas subjects herself to the fakest popshot I have ever seen.