The Mexican finally brings something good to the white people table. I mean, forget all the other contributions the Mexican has provided (fresh produce, the California Missions, the bandanna hairpiece, the word “holmes”) as those all pale in comparison to the glory that is a cold Corona with a bitter-sweet taste of lime. So, back to what I was saying, finally the Mexican brings something great to the table only to have it ruined by some cheap ass broke-back, er, I mean bar-back, who’s boss finally let him tend bar instead of wipe the foamy puddle of beer residue off the floor and the damn kid forgets to put a lime in the Corona. I mean, picture this, there you are finally having mustered up the cajones to fork out $4.50 for a beer outside of Sams-to-Go one sunny Sunday afternoon and by an act of idiocy you are left lime-less, left with a taste of something that is a cross between flat budweiser and that funky sewage smell you experience when pushing through the barred gate on your way out of Tijuana while trying to wipe that sweet horror that is the donkey show image out of your mind. Speaking of donkey shows, you are half way through your lime-less and now warm Corona and all you can think of is how you would love to take that 3-foot long donkey wang and whack Broke-Back over the head with it until he bleeds lime juice out of his nose. Who forgets the damn lime especially on Cinco de Mayo? Idiot. I hope he gets some ‘wang’ cheese in his hair.