Tex-Mex Guy (1)

   
   "Tex-Mex Guy (1)"
   
   He resided out in the scalding yet dry heat of Arizona, clearing up his armpit psoriasis, not down in Old Orleans, where the resonating vibrations of Saint Joan of Arc are highly gyrating on the mystical frequencies, arriving swifter, many times so, than the speed of light, like unto immediate Internet service; specifically, the Tex-Mex guy called, through cerebral focus, that particular Saint unto him, not selfishly, yet to assist him with the negatives and positives of life, knowing they (the Saints) have the ability to superposition themselves through time, space, and other dimensions, all due to them being supernaturally alive in Christ, being a magnanimous frequency of total reality; thus, Saint Joan was with his seemingly-perpetual delivery of:  chili con carne, fajitas, and cheesy nachos.
   So, piloting his 1987 five liter, 302 cubic inch Ford Mustang, no hatchback; furthermore, one of the LX models, it only taking six flat seconds to triumph towards sixty, him redesigning the intake with ram air induction, and having two supertrapps sticking out of the rear end for increased vehicular outtake--the Tex-Mex guy was a metaphorical Mercury concerning delivery.
   Too, the Tex-Mex guy wore an inauthentic sombrero, part of the blue-collar job's innate humility, moving swiftly past hot women in their Lexus turbo-models, and flashing a curved grin underneath a wiry mustache that displayed his sense of pseudo-dandyism, and a Basset Hound named Curtis alongside him in the passenger seat, buckled in by the influencing protection of Saints.  
   It was a modest yet content lifestyle, him affording cheap rent at a crappy apartment, using Swedish Snus to control his anxiety, and never thinking of Saint Joan in any creepy way, yet only to help save his impoverished sufferings--her, a gift from God, as Saints mostly are, the Saintly soldier being a Divine shield against the capitalistic roller-coaster ride that can wither away a healthy corporeal existence--so it goes for the Tex-Mex Guy, anyway.