Whatchu Call Me!!?!!?

Ah, the sun is back! Flowers are blooming....Ladies clothes are getting smaller....I'm turning brown...It's SPRING BLING! What an awesome time to be in the Great State of Texas! So how the crap did I end up back in the Pelican State???

I recently returned from Lafayette, LA. As you know from reading posts past, LA is a little different and I always come back with a story. While I was driving around this thriving metropolis built on craw-fish tails and bread pudding, I made an odd observation...I was going to post on FB for the world to enjoy...it was going to read: Only in Louisiana would you see a Ruth's Chris and Sonic share a parking lot. 

As I pondered my unparalleled wit it hit me. Man, I'm boojee! Besides PLT, no one is even gonna know what I'm talking about!

You won't find the word "boojee" in the Oxford Dictionary, but who the crap are they? They think they know a butt-load about words, but they don't. So here is the Urban Dictionary definition:

Boojee
adj. Derived from the french word Bourgeois, Boojee refers to a *black person who acts stuck up; acts like they are to good for everyone else *Yes, I know I'm yellow right now, but same-same...

As you can imagine, this surprised me. I did what I always do when I have an epiphany - I called Nelly. Still in awe, I hit her with this new found truth. She replied with the beat-box: psshh, I could have told you that!

Nelly is the devil.

I'm not sure when I changed. I don't think it was a light-switch thing. It had to be a process. I'm pretty sure it started when we moved to Texas. When I was an Average Joe, I could go to Micky Deez or Jack in the Crack for lunch and be happy. I enjoyed Western Bacon Burgers and Double-Doubles when the desire arose. All that changed on my first day at work here in the Lone Star state. Man, these dudes can eat!

The guys from work went out to lunch EVERY DAY. I'm not talking about burger and fries,  I'm taking about sit-down, water-up-front, salad,  main dish, maybe-dessert type of meals. I can remember going to lunch with Nelly when she recommended Subway. I thought she had lost her mind. I looked her up-n-down then sideways and then said, "I want to be served!"

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....that IS boojee! But that was the start of my downward spiral. Now I rock a mini-fauxhawk, wear extra-tight skinny jeans, throw on Baby GAP t-shirts and minimize manual labor every chance I get. Check this out, I have white guys mowing my lawn. INSANE! I know! It's a good thing my dad doesn't read this blog. He would have a crap-attack if he knew I was not in-charge of my own lawn care.

To add to that nonsense, we have a crazy, old white lady cleaning our house. We have a maid service! My Salvadorian wife and I pay someone to come clean.

I've never painted a wall in this house. Five rooms here have been painted, one of them twice, and I never shook a can, popped a lid, or grabbed a roller.

I'm a Mexican that doesn't mow lawns or paint.

I drive a Lexus. Of course I look gorgeous in it. But, I looked just as delicious when I rocked my sweet-ass Toyota Matrix XR. To date, that Matrix was the best car I have ever owned. It just wasn't boojee enough for me. It didn't have "nalgas." So I sold-out and upgraded.

My favorite artist is Avril Lavigne. Scratch that...it doesn't really count 'cause no matter where I live or what I do, she so EFFEN rocks!

So, my secret is out. I'm soft. No, we're not talking about my goods. We're talking about my distaste for perspiration due to work.

Truth be told, I'm looking for someone that can type this blog while I sit back can spew greatness. And awesomeness.

There you have it, cyberspace. You're welcome.