DEAR MEXICAN: A Mexican man recently broke up with me. We had great sex, but a somewhat distant relationship. Anyways, the reason he left me: his immigration status. He says he can’t “be with me mentally” because he’s somewhere else mentally—that’s to say, not knowing where he might be living in the next days and months is really bothering him. Aside from that fact is he can’t find work now because of Efile. I’m trying to find closure. It’s only been a few days since he left me, but I’m struggling with finding peace in myself. My friends say things like “You’re better off without him” and “Things happen for a reason.” I miss him, I miss the great sex (adventurous, great oral, got very close to anal), and most of all, I miss the idea of him. He’s liberal politically, helps his family here and in Mexico, is a good person, helps others, and is very organic. I forgot to mention he has beautiful long hair and is “como un tren,” which means he’s solid like a football player and made me melt when I touched his “guns.” Please help me deal.
La Heina No More
DEAR YA NO THE CHICK: Man, you know Donald Trump is destroying lives when Mexicans can’t even have sex with gabachas anymore without deportation on their mind (quick thought, gents: Think of 45’s blobbish physique to hold out just a bit more). It seems as if the two of you had a great relationship outside of el sexo, and he’s obviously concerned about his livelihood, as well as that of his fellow undocumented friends and family, so don’t take it personal. Be there for him, even if he’s unavailable physically. Protest whenever the inevitable migra raids inflict terror on the barrios in your city. Bombard your congressman and senators with demands they oppose Trump’s wall of shame. Donate to nonprofits designed to help out people like your hombre. Remember: The most important body part of his to have right now is his back. Oh, and #fucktrump.
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DEAR MEXICAN: This past Thanksgiving weekend for me was a bit surreal. I was born and raised here in the beautiful city of Nuestra Señora de Los Angeles and decided to visit my mother in Arkansas, where she recently moved with her new husband (who is from the state of Guerrero!). Before my boyfriend (who is white) and I arrived, my mother told me that her husband’s family and friends were going to kill a goat in honor of our arrival and have a huge fiesta on Saturday. I thought she was pulling my leg. Thursday, we had the traditional turkey; come Friday evening, there was a weird stench coming from the back yard of the house. My boyfriend and I noticed that my mom’s husband and his friends were preparing the goat. Mind you, my boyfriend and I only eat three meats in our diet—chicken, beef and a little bit of pork. Someone told me that this tradition happens in many places in the world and the type of animal they kill in your honor depends how important you are. So do Mexicans really do this, or am I just super-special with my family?
DEAR GABACHA: I have always maintained that only the world’s superior cultures go crazy for goat. That means that the GOATs of the world are Jamaicans, Vietnamese, Korean, Pakistanis and, of course, Mexicans. If your ‘billy mom is now with a guy who’s immersing her in the art of cabrito, consider yourself blessed. That he and his compas slaughtered a goat in your name is nothing but respect. “Weird stench”? Watch your manners—and be glad they didn’t make you a taco bowl with a helping of Montezuma’s Revenge.