Handlebar Time

For the last couple of weeks, it's been getting close, but this morning
(as I was playing with my moustache riding the Chicken Bus back from San
Jerónimo) it finally started to curl correctly.

I believe that this is Emily's favorite moustache permutation. Just a
little hint of a handlebar curl. One inebriated peasant stopped on the
street, stared, and laughed openly. I wasn't offended--better that than
a reasoned response to at least 100 years of American imperialism in the
region.

Along completely different lines, have any of y'all ever heard the
Ramones' "We're a Happy Family"? Terrible (but hilarious) lyrics:

We're a happy family (x3)
Me, mom and daddy
We're a happy family (x3)
Me, mom and daddy

Sittin' here in Queens
Eatin' refried beans
Wearin' (?) all our magazines
Gulpin' down chlorazines (?)

We ain't got no friends
Our troubles never end
No Christmas cards to send
Daddy likes men...

Not quite as terrible as "Mississippi Mud" with Frankie Trumbauer, but
pretty terrible... It does help one to understand how people abroad get
such ridiculous ideas about people from the states. The Guatemalans
aren't afraid of the states (nor should they be--they're far tougher
than the average Estadounidense), but the Europeans down here have no
problem with traveling around Guatemala City, but "Isn't it dangerous in
the U.S., with all those guns?"

At that moment, I'm always torn between giving them the correct answer
("Only if you meet a big-haired, blonde, Texas woman in a dark alley")
and really playing up the "tough American" role ("Yeah, but the big hair
don't scare me!")

Please forgive the Texas bashing, incidentally. It's the Ramones.
They're putting me in a goofy mood.

I'm going to get some Pollo Campero!