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THAT’S BARRIO: Paper Planes

January 21, 2011

When I was little, I crashed my paper airplane (flight 711) into my mother’s dandruff-filled scalp.

“Cabrón!”

“Sorry!  I tried to fly it over your snow-covered mountain but didn’t gain enough altitude!”

“Desgraciado!”

She proceeded to crush flight 711 in her bare hands.

My airline has a perfect on-time record so I immediately created flight 712 from my report card and flew it south because my grades were going down fast.

THUMP!  Flight 712 slammed into my father’s face and his cigarette burned up his mustache.

“Cabrón!”

“Sorry!  Your cigarette smoke blinded me like the fog!”

My father proceeded to stomp on flight 712 so I immediately created flight 713 from my drawing of the north star and flew north.

BOOM!  My plane crashed into Diosito’s heavenly gates.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, my Lord.  Please open up.  May I land in Heaven’s airport?”

“Of course, my son.  Circle around and land wherever you want.”

He opened the gates…I circled around and ran out of gas just before I reached the gates.

Thank you, Mexicana Airlines.

Corona

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