Chuy wants a new tattoo for his new lady love — in a special spot right over his heart. But, he wonders, is a new tat a symbol of undying devotion or merely another way to get the chicas to give it up? When Smiley pointedly asks about Chuy’s old girlfriend, an intense discussion ensues. (NSFW language.)

Barack Hussein Obama’s biggest donors and best crony capitalist friends at JP Morgan Chase recently lost over two billion dollars in risky trades.

Instead of wailing about this so-called “Wall Street reform” nonsense, I have decided to open my own bank and mega Wall Street trading firm: JP Mormon.

At JP Mormon, we promise to keep your money away from the risky trades of Wall Street and in safe, secure island strongholds.

We will also store your hard-earned trust fund payments in secret European locations, places where Michele Bachman once held dual citizenship.

JP Mormon will actively pursue extremely safe and conservative trades in high risk derivatives and other financial instruments that even I don’t understand and have yet to be invented.

JP Mormon will invest your money in the burgeoning car elevator technology field, dog travel systems, and the highly profitable Overseas Job Outsourcing industry.  We will assist our top 1% of customers with excellent tax plans that will one day get their tax rates to 1% levels. The cutting edge, yet sensible approach of JP Mormon will help usher back the financially exciting era that our great country first experienced during the George W. Bush presidency.

Every JP Mormon customer service representative will be dressed in an appropriate conservative attire consisting of short white sleeved shirts with plain ties and safety helmets for their company vehicles. In fact, they will come to you, endlessly ringing your doorbell and handing out JP Mormon literature. Each JP Mormon banking center will be ornate and beautifully appointed, although customers will be encouraged to only use the ATMs outside, unless they are fully vetted to enter the “banktuary.”

There will be no free coffee in the lobby, don’t even ask.

JP Mormon won’t just treat you like a person, we will treat you like a corporation. Our goal is to restore the greatness of the America back to its Golden Age, the late 1920s.

And JP Mormon can guarantee you this: We will give you a free toaster with every new account that you open, or for every $2 billion of yours that we lose.

On behalf of JP Mormon, I’m Mitt Romney, and I approve this message.

Dear Abuelita,
OK so I went to this internet dating site and filled out this long questionnaire about my inner feelings and wants and desires and what are my values and what is important to me and all that and still I get no replies from the chicas I email. I will be out in eight months and then under home detention so these girls know I can’t run around on them. What am I doing wrong?
Signed, 098765433456789

Dear 098765433456789,
Obviously you haven’t heard of FirmeHynas.com because that site is filled with locas who love jailbirds. You’ve got better odds finding a mate on this dating site than you have coming out of the pinta with you sphincter intact.

Those homegirls are desperate for love and will beat down their own daughter or mother for a man. You want true love – they’ll give you their undivided devotion con dedications on the radio even.

Another thing – these rucas are not young or fit, and are bien fea but who are you to ask for anything more. You are in no position to be picky.

Tu Abuelita just did a quick browse for you and LilSpooky69 is available. A little heavy on the Aqua Net but, overall, not too bad. Dale chansa, check her out, ey!
Con carino, Abuelita

Dear Abuelita,
Your photo looks so familiar, I swear I know you. Were you at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967 and do you remember meeting a kid from Oakland after Jimi Hendrix’s performance ended? Someone who talked to you about The Who and the magic of patchouli oil? Someone you led by the hand to a secluded area behind the light towers and screwed like there was no tomorrow? Samantha I miss you so!
Signed, Blast from the Past

Dear Blast from the Past,
Orale, are you still tripping on LSD? You’ve got me confused with someone else. I was On The Road Again with Canned Heat at the Fantasy Fair and Magic Mountain Music Festival the week before you say we screwed. Besides, why would I want to mess with a greñudo chavalon concert-goer like you when I had my pick of manly rock stars. Sorry, the summer of this abuelita’s love making did not include you. Cabron, don’t be spreading rumors.
P.S.: Call me later

—————-
Do you have a pregunta for your Dear Abuelita, mijos? I want to help!

Click here to send me your question.

No question too odd. No answers guaranteed.
Vatos: If your question lasts for more than for hours,
please make sure you send me your home phone.

More Dear Abuelita here!

I knew that I was in a heap of trouble when the mechanics showed up in a big old beat-up four-wheel-drive mud-covered truck with a hand-painted sign on the doors that read Cooter’s Roadside Auto Repair.

These fellas sat in their truck a little too long — staring at me — before they got out to reveal they were dressed in camouflage hunting outfits from head to toe. Their caps were camo as well, except for the Confederate flag emblem on the front. Their clothes were covered in dirt, grease, and what looked like blood stains, the same stains they had on their faces.

I was on my way back to Austin, TX from the East Coast. I had gone to do some remodeling work on my rich sister’s vacation home on Chesapeake Bay and was happy to be coming home with a little extra cash, around three grand, in my pocket.

Then, as luck would have it, or as my dad would say, all the good shit just turned to crap.

My little white Chevy work truck broke down in the middle of backwoods Alabama somewhere between Montgomery and Mobile.

It was the first time I had passed thru this state having driven the northern route on my way up to the East Coast.

I had been on the road for about ten hours and it was about two in the afternoon when my truck decided to quit on me. I coasted to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. I got out and looked underneath toward the rear axle, where the loud banging noise had been coming from. It was a badly damaged driveshaft from failure to replace worn out U-joints. I knew enough to fix it, but I only had my carpenter and not my mechanic tools with me.

I would also need new U-joints and a new or used driveshaft to get the truck back on the road. I was a only about a mile away from a small town so I pulled out my phone, got on the Internet, and found the number to the nearest and only auto parts store there. I called them to see if they had the parts. They had the U-joints but not the driveshaft, so I asked them if they could recommend a good roadside mechanic in the area.

The phone number they gave me was for Cooter’s Roadside Service. The woman that answered when I called sounded like a sweet Southern lady and she told me that she would send her husband out to assist me right away. It took them about an hour or so to get there after I made the call and another ten minutes to get out of their truck.

They were standing in front of me looking like Boss Hogg from the Dukes of Hazard and his deputy. To break the uncomfortable silence and to confirm my own diagnosis of my truck’s problem I asked the mechanics to take a look at it.

Cooter, the Boss Hogg look alike, with a humongous beer belly had a little trouble getting down on the ground to take a look underneath and even more trouble getting back up. He spoke up very slowly displaying a few dark brown snuff stained teeth. “That looks bad, that drive shaft is fucked up and it’s gonna take a few days and a whole lotta dough to get that fixed,” he said.

“Yeaup, yeaup, yeaup, it looks real bad, real bad,” echoed his partner, the tall skinny meth-head-looking one with the long greasy mullet dangling from the back of his dirty gimme cap. He had crawled all the way under the truck and popped right back up faster than greased lightning. He looked me up and down from head to toe and as he shook his head in agreement. I could’ve sworn that at that precise moment I heard the faint sound of banjos in the background.

“Do have an idea how long it will take and how much it’s going to cost me to get it fixed? I asked nervously trying to lose my Tex-Mex accent, remembering that Alabama had recently passed anti-immigrant legislation that was even more severe than Arizona’s.

Not that I’m an undocumented immigrant, although I could possibly be mistaken for one. I have migrated within the U.S quite a bit. I was born in Texas, the good ole U.S.A, so were my parents, and my grandparents too. When my great great grandparents were born, Texas was still part of Mexico. My Tejano pride deflated instanly when Cooter spoke back up.

“Hell, that driveshaft is gonna be to hard to find. I’ll probably have to go get a new one from a dealer in Mobile,” he said scratching his balls like he there was no tomorrow.

“You’re lookin’ at two or three days, maybe more. It ain’t gonna be cheap, I’ll tell you dat much. Tell you what I’ll do, little buddy, I’ll tow it back to my place and get it fixed as soon as I get the part. We live back dare about 20 miles off the highway. We got plenty room in my mobile home for you to stay, Junior here will share his room with you, won’t you Junior?” asked Cooter while he pulled a pinch of snuff from the round tin with the same greasy hand he had been scratching his balls with and put the brown wad in between his cheek and gum.

Junior smiled and revealed his own set of brown stained and very pointy teeth as he continued to shake his head up and down like a bobble head doll. My question about the cost and time of the repair was not directly answered and I was none too pleased with his suggestion.

Now both mechanics were staring at me waiting for a response and I had to think of something quick.

My thinking was interrupted by Junior’s whispering to Cooter something that to me sounded like “He sure is a purdy little Messcin.” The faint sound of banjos suddenly exploded in my head, it got so fast and intense I almost passed out. It was do or die time, I knew I had to come up with my best survival response immediately.

“Well, I certainly appreciate the offer fellas, but that just ain’t gonna work for me, I have to get back to Texas by no later than tomorrow morning cause I gotta report to my probation officer. I guess I will have to get someone from back home to drive out here and tow me back,” I said wondering to myself why I was starting to talk like them, scratching my own balls, and making shit up to make it sound like I just got out of prison.

The mechanics continued to stand there staring at me with a look that I couldn’t quite comprehend. Suddenly it dawned on me that they were expecting to get paid for having driven out to the highway where I was stranded.

I decided that it would only be fare to at least pay them for the gas they used up to drive out. I did not want to pull out the wad of cash I had in my pocket. So I fished out a couple of bills from the bundle knowing that I had put the smaller ones on the outside. I quickly noticed that they were one dollar bills. I knew it was not enough, especially since both men were now looking at the measly dollar bills like I was holding a piece of dog shit it my hands. I pulled one more bill out of the same pocket and thank goodness it was a twenty. I handed the money to Cooter, who and said, “thanks for driving out here fellas. Let me at least pay for your gas.”

A moment of deadly silence followed what I thought was my generous offer.

“We charge a $100 for our roadside service calls,” responded Cooter, with a scowl on his face as he reluctantly took the $22 in his oily hands. ‘Yup a hundred bucks,” said Junior still shaking his head up and down so fast I wanted to reach over and slap the back of his head.

“Aw man, I’m really sorry fellas but that’s all I can spare right now, I still gotta figure out how I’m going to get my ass and my truck back home, but I really, really do appreciate ya’ll,” I said still trying to sound like a good ole boy but instantly regretted that I had just drawn more attention to my little ass.

The camouflaged mechanics stared at me for a few more seconds than they should have and then looked at each other with dumbfounded and disappointed looks on their faces. They slowly got back into their big truck and drove off without saying thank you or goodbye. How rude I thought, as I let out a big sigh of relief. I watched them disappear into the distance and the banjo music faded with them.

I was still in the same situation except with $22 less in my pocket but very thankful that the sun was still shining and I had literally saved my own ass, at least for the time being.

Something on your mind? Tell POCHO all about it using our handy SUBMIT link.

Alabama road sign photo by TheCustomOfLife.

Pepito is all over Juan’s case and blames him for all their mistakes. And after their teacher died, he asks, what exactly does that make the two of them?

Click here for all the previous chapters if you’re tuning in late!

Castellano band The Pinker Tones love Life in Stereo and are determined to follow their dreams despite the unfortunate kidnapping of one member by blue winged flying saucer people in diapers (could also be purple — hard to tell)  who is then transported to the Land of Mono. After a completing a successful rescue mission in a red rocket ship, the group said their new CD will indeed come out on schedule today — in the Land of Stereo.

The Sheik dissed Canseco on Twitter

The Sheik plans to "humble" Canseco

(PNS reporting from DIXIE) Though the competition was stiffer than Ronald Reagan’s corpse, retired MLB douchebag and Twitter hack Jose Canseco has been declared the Worst Mexican of All Time by ex-professional wrestler The Iron Sheik.

Canseco has the “raisin balls” and is an embarrassment to all of Mexico, The Sheik told PNS.

The contest was too close to call by many Mexperts but after the votes were tallied, Canseco won the prestigious title hands down, beating out Geraldo Rivera, Tito Santana, Raffi Torres, Mel Gibson, O.J. Simpson and Mario Lopez.

When notified he did not win, Geraldo responded by weeping on Fox and Friends, remarking that he felt “manually raped” by the results.

The Iron Sheik, a man of choice words, has long had a feud with Canseco and says he is “a piece of shit.” Sheik told PNS says that given the chance, he would love to break Canseco’s back and “humble” him.

“I will suplex Canseco! Put him in the Camel Clutch, break his back, fuck his ass, and make him humble, old country way!” Shiek said.

According to Urban Dictionary, the broken back allows for easier penetration and the recipient of a humbling is often “worse than Hulk Hogan.”

“If you vote for the Jose Canseco you also vote for him to be biggest cocksucker, no good motherfucker Mexican in world. Jose Canseco have smaller dick than grasshopper and he worse Mexican than the Mel Gibson or O.J. Simpson,” Sheik said via his Twitter account.

Canseco Tweeted his reply to the Sheik

Canseco, the definitive Mexi-CAN’T, is no stranger to being the worst at anything. He replied to the Sheik’s declaration with a Twitter threat.

“Be careful old man, I won’t take it easy on you like I have everyone else,” Canseco said.

The award ceremony for Worst Mexican of All-Time will be held at The Iron Sheik’s wrestling school in Fayetteville, GA on June 2. Sheik hopes to crown Canseco personally with a sombrero made of dog shit before beating him to a bloody pulp and then humbling him on live PPV. Sheik said he also hopes to award runner-up trophies to Lopez, Gibson, Torres, Santana, Rivera and Simpson (assuming he can get him extradited for the ceremony.)

Canseco had “no comment” when asked if he will attend the ceremony.

We’re not sure if WWE’s Vince McMahon reads POCHO but if he does, Sheik vs Canseco would be an epic match.

S. J. Rivera remembers when wrasslin’ was fun and is an Indie Publisher/Author @ Broken Sword Publications

Pocho Ñews Service PNS is a wholly-fictitious subsidiary of Pochismo, Inc., a California corporation, who is a person according to the Supreme Court.  Don’t ask us, we just work here.

Eva Mendes stars as UFW cofounder Dolores Huerta

(PNS reporting from HOLLYWOOD) Following the warm reception to the upcoming César Chávez biopic, producers in Hollywood have mounted an international effort to produce the “most extensive Chicano film in history.”

The production not only features an all-star cast from the United States and Latin America but also includes both factual and fictitious events in Chicano history.

“The idea is to jam pack as much history, culture and entertainment into two hours of film so that young Chicanos don’t have to read any books to learn about who they are,” said  the project’s director, Pedro Almodóvar.

“In fact, if possible we are going to try to make the two hours into an hour-and-a-half, because our target audience has no attention span.”

The film – Mi Familia Bound By Honor For Glory —   begins when Hernán Cortés lands in the New World, follows the history of Latin America through colonialism, revolution, “Love in the Time of Cholera,” “Like Water for Chocolate,” “Destilando Amor,”  through the Great Depression, World War II, the Civil Rights Movement, the Raiders moving back to Oakland and to the current struggles of today’s Latinos — like bad cell phone reception.

Lou Diamond Phillips plays Che Guevara

“I feel like this project is important not only to me, and the rest of the cast, for professional and personal reasons. It’s the first time that we — are a bunch of people who are not Mexican-American but capitalize on pretending to be — have the chance to tell the authentic Mexican-American story,” said Cuban-American actress Eva Mendes, who is starring in the film as United Farm Worker co-founder Dolores Huerta. (She beat out Rosario Dawson for the role.)

The film’s other iconic roles:

• Levy as Hernán Cortés
• Wilmer Valderrama as Moctezuma
• JLo as the Virgen de Guadalupe
• Javier Bardem or Antonio Banderas as Simón Bolívar
• Freddy Prinze Jr. as Emiliano Zapata
• Lou Diamond Phillips as Ché Guevara
• Don Francisco and Jimmy Smits as the Flores Magón brothers
• John Leguizamo as César Chávez
• Carlos Mencia as Bill Richardson
• Elton John as Governor Jan Brewer
• Shakira as Sonia Sotomayor and
• Esai Morales as himself.

“I’m honored to be playing such an important figure in Chicano history,” said Diamond Phillips. “Without Guevara, Chicano protest wear would have never been the same. Plus, it’s great to have a paycheck, myself and many of the other cast members haven’t had a decent gig since the early 90s.”

Mi Familia Bound By Honor For Glory is set for release in the fall of 2014, with a simultaneous DVD release at the Pico Rivera Swap Meet.

Pocho Ñews Service PNS is a wholly-fictitious subsidiary of Pochismo, Inc., a California corporation, who is a person according to the Supreme Court.  Don’t ask us, we just work here.

Pepito and Juan continue their post-mortem review of the school video project on the way home…

Click here for all the previous chapters if you’re tuning in late!

Everything is chill when the street musician starts playing his accordian in the park — until the suave guitarist shows up. Who will win this battle of the park work stars? The musical gunfight is a toss-up, until a mysterious third man appears.