I seriously want this on a t-shirt.
18 April 2017 at 10:15 am
I looked up ‘chingona’ ’cause I’m a writer and that’s my bag, just to get a sense of how others might interpret a word I’ve heard my Dad say all my life. I found a pretty fun thread about it, some think it’s profane, others just think it’s Pachuco slang. But a star for my favorite comment goes to the person who asked: “Isn’t it actually a shrub in Mexico that has beautiful purple flowers but smells more like garlic?”
18 April 2017 at 10:26 am
18 April 2017 at 4:43 pm
That’s a good word, if it can work triple duty. 🙂
18 April 2017 at 5:02 pm
I thought you, in particular, would appreciate it.
18 April 2017 at 8:34 pm
Leave it to Suze to make a bad-a$$ warrior really all about a rare weird flower. 🙂
60? I thought there were only 54. You know that I never met a numbered series of mythological symbols that I didn’t like. My most recent blog post talks about a Buddhist variety from my childhood that I almost forgot about.
18 April 2017 at 8:40 pm
Numero uno: what a kewl first thought. Exceedingly pleased.
Dos: Headin’ over to your place to check out the post!
19 April 2017 at 12:44 am
Understand, I was a child of the 1950s –familiar with some Pachuco epithets– but this one seems to have evolved across the spectrum like some anglo words like wicked, crazy, far-f’ing out, etc. which may be misunderstood if we wear the t-shirt around grandchildren. Then again, it might be hilarious.
19 April 2017 at 10:30 am
Having read your posts for years, I remember you were born the same year as my Dad. Your comment makes me wonder how close to the border you were raised. 🌵
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If everyone in this country of ours drove a rose automobile, we'd have a pink car nation.
If you have to ask yourself whether or not you love a girl or you love a boy, forget it. You don't.
So a story's the same way. You either feel a story, and need to write it. Or you better not write it.
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Persons attempting to find a plot in this narrative will be shot by order of the author.
It's about finding out who you are, in the space between the notes that they're offering you.
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