Hola Beeches!
Eet is I, Juan Carlos Miguel Jose Garcia Mendoza. Can joo believe that eet has been nearly a year since Mees Moi and I met up in that hotel room in the Miami Beach? ¡Ay, caramba! The way she scream and jump up on the bed, I felt bad for a second. I was only trying to make friends. But then she go down to the manager and make heem come up weeth three cans of Raid and a broomsteeck. No, I become very peesed off at her then, and I vow never to ever speak her name again.
Theese whole year, I try. I try to get her out of my mind. But, I cannot. Mees Moi, she is tenacious in the brain, like la Cucaracha in la Cucina. And then when I realize, from reading theese blog, that she lof Hennifer Lopez as much as I do, I think to myself, ay! maybe now we can be friends! Oh, the fun times me and mi madre and padre, and all of my cousins twice removed from my uncle's side from the Brooklyn branch have had in Meez Lopez's house. We lof her. Except that hosband, that skeletal man, heem, no, we do not like. Heem, we weesh could have been thees man:
Reeky Martin and Mees Lopez, they would have made the most beautiful bambinos, no? But, alas, Reeky's gate, eet sweeng the other way (shhhh, do not tell Mees Moi, eet steel make her cry) and there is no carpenter on earth or in heaven gonna feex that. Let us pause for a moment, shall we, to ponder hees beauty in the honor of all beauty everywhere.
So, anyway, I think, Ay! Moi and I, Juan Carlos, we have something een common! So, jes. I leave my home in the Miami and I walk across the Joonited States and I buy flowers. I climb all the way up to her house, and I knock, knock, knock on her door last night and what does she do? She throws another pair of those choos at me and then her dog, that fat one with the reedeeculous wrinkles on hees face, he try to eat me.
But theese time, I was ready. I bring the what you call it, the chloroform? And now I have Moi and those Perros locos tied up in the garach and I am typing on my leetle laptop from the inside of one of Moi's Louboutin's where I am eating all of her Cheetos and, jes, letting the cheeps fall where they may. And it is I, Juan Carlos, who will be blogging the Amerikeen Idol to joo all tonight. Ay, I am so like the Che Guevera. Except I cannot get this leetle beret to stay on my head.
Never the mind. We must hurry. Before that stupeed husband of hers, he come home with hees peestol.
Casey: "I Heard it Through the Grapevine" Who ees theese leetle boy with his grown up suit and beeg voice? I am confused. He ess not Reeky Martin sexy, but he has a quality. I know theese because Hennifer, she twinkles her eyes at heem. But I would say, lose the beard, muchacho. The ladies. They do not like the beards. They like the tentacles. Four tacos.
Thia: "Heat Wave" Heh. I geeve theese leetle girl a heat wave. She should come visit me, Juan Carlos, in the Miami in August. And we go get some carne asada at Pinolandia in Leetle Havana. Then we see eef she still sings like a leettle girl mouse whisperer. Peh. Two tacos.
Jacob: "You're All I Need to Get By" I lof the Marvin Gaye and I lof theese song. And I lof the way theese shiney boy in hees shiney pink suit jacket sing eet, weeeth just the right amount of feeling that never made me roll my eyes. But I liked not so much the keesing of everybody else's bottom. Four tacos and a jalapeño.
Lauren: "Keep Me Hanging On" For uno momento, I thought la chica, she was gonna treep in that silly long dress but then I say to my self, Juan Carlos, she got a the pipes. The pipes will get her through. Four tacos.
Stefano: "Jello"
Once upon a time, Mees Moi was at a dance at school when theese boy he asks her to dance a the slow song to theese Lionel Reechy song, which she hate, but she like theese boy, so she says, "Okay," and then theese boy, he tells her he lof her, even though he step on her choos, but then a day later he tell Moi's frien' he lof her, which, Dios mios, was not a good idea. So Moi, she tape a theese song and call theese boy tree, four time a night and play it over hees telephone because those were the days before that stupeed star-seex-nine ruined all a the prank call fun. Two tacos.
Haley: "You Really Got a Hold On Me"
Not so much hate theese week as last, but eet wasn't the song that was the problem. Eet was her drum majorette outfit. An' I for juan deedn't see no Beeg Band, did joo? Three tacos.
Scotty: "For Once in My Life"
Ay, I hear a the Texas accent and I start looking up expecting the roach-keecker cowboy boots to land on my head. Hennifer, I think she lof heem, though. Two and a half tacos.
Pia: "All in Love is Fair"
Oh, sorry, eet's so snuggly warm down here inside thees Louboutin's I had a nice leetle nap and missed performance. But I theenk I could make Moi my frien' eef I buy her that dress. Jes, even I, Juan Carlos, knows that the dress, eet is awesome. Two tacos.
Paul: "Tracks of My Tears"
Oh, jes, I know what to do weeth theese Paul now. Send heem to Reeky Martin, with a big red bow wrapped around hees butt. However, for once he didn't make me want to put charp steeks in my ears. Three tacos.
Thia: "Dancing in the Streets"
Moi, she says she like a theese girl. Moi, she is maybe un pocito loco. Even Reeky wouldn't wear those pantalones. Two and a half tacos.
James: "Living For the City"
Dios mios, theese raccoon tail boy. One week I lof heem, the next I want to keek heem in hees head. Tonight, I ask myself, "When deed Adam Lambert have a son? I thought hees gait sweeng a the other way?" Also: "Why does he keep squeenting hees eyes like a peegy?" Two and a half tacos. And a quarter jalapeño.
Jokay, compadres. Ees time for me to go hide. I see joo next week! Unless I get peestoled . . .
