Tex-Mex Guy (3)

   
   "Tex-Mex Guy (3)"

   The Tex-Mex Guy was alone on his futon, petting the synergy-like slobber of Curtis upon his khaki pants; moreover, Saint Joan wasn't there--she was not always around to heavenly haunt him into pure energy, unless he called, or she knocked politely.  
   Too, Tex-Mex Guy had his transistor radio playing, fueled by them ancient batteries that Robert Conrad dared you to knock off, along with that obviously divine chip on his chiseled shoulder.  It was Labor Day, and the Phoenix papers basically said about local events:  "Just go to the movies."
   Tex-Mex Guy and the Basset Hound Curtis knew that entertainment crap was high-dollar, for just a tub of buttered popcorn could give you the rectal squirts; plus, set you back a half-tank of gas; thus, he just chilled and pondered himself.
   His last name was Adami--an Italian surname basically meaning:  the son of Adam.  Kinda like Christ referred to Himself as:  the Son of Man.  Furthermore, The Tex-Mex Guy knew he blended in with his highly Hispanic community, for even the Italian man named Columbus, well--his mighty journey was financed by the Spanish--and did they then not produce offspring with the South American Tribes, giving us modernization below the border?  Of course.
   Moreover, as a Catholic, The Tex-Mex Guy's favorite ship used by Columbus was the La Santa Maria--the most magnificent ship of them all.  So, even though he was American--in a quiet, meek way--he celebrated his Italian heritage; next, blessed himself, put a piece of Swedish Snus under his lip, spooned with Curtis, and took a nap while the AM Frequencies enchanted with a political dream.