The World O' Crap Archive

Welcome to the Collected World O' Crap, a comprehensive library of posts from the original Salon Blog, and our successor site, (2006 to 2010).

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Thursday, June 27, 2013

Sanctuary? We Don’ Need No Steeking Sanctuary!

Pastor Doug Giles, Vicar of the Vagabond Inn, sayeth unto his flock that the banditos from Treasure of the Sierra Madre are a’coming to burn our homesteads, rape our cattle and stampede our women.
I have nothing against friendly foreigners who want to get the heck out of their banana republic and get a legal life over here in the land of plenty. I feel your pain, hombres. Well, not really. Actually, I have no idea what kind of gruel you have to slog through while I live on a marina in Miami next to a world-class golf course.
Just like Jesus did.  Although He was able to just step off his 46′ ketch and walk directly across the channel to the Pro Shop whenever he felt like knocking around a quick nine, whereas Doug, His humble apostle, has to take the long way through the reserved parking lot and around the Yacht Basin.
However, given the fact that you’re leaving your homeland in flippin’ droves, I’m guessin’ the place sucks like a ravenous Rosie working the fleshy remnants of a ripe mango seed.
The Rosie-is-fat joke has even less to do with the column than usual, but Doug has to protect his trademark.  (Whenever I get to the inevitable Dykes!  Adipose tissue! jape, I’m reminded of the end of a Jack Webb production, when a hammer wielded by a brawny, glistening forewarm would stamp out the Mark VII logo.)  Anyway, chunky lesbians aren’t the target of Doug’s blank-eyed verse today; he has browner fish to fry.
Look, if I were a Mexican living in Mexico, I too would be braving long walks through the desert and even swimming across the Rio Grande during flood stage. Why?
Because we like you!  Oh wait.  Anyhow, raise your hand if you believe Doug would risk getting his hair wet after he’d just applied a fresh coat of Kerastase Mousse Volumactive.
There are three reasons:
1. American TV is better. Have you seen the horrid Mexican stuff they torture their citizens with?
Yeah, who’d want to sit through crap like Yo soy Betty, la fea, when you could be watching Deal Or No Deal?  By the way, Doug, a lot of Spanish language television — at least, the kind you’re probably familiar with — is produced in and around Miami, so why don’t you go pound on your neighbor’s door and tell them to quit blowing their leaves in your yard and producing crap like Dame Chocolate?
2. I’d get sick of mariachis playing their big guitars and singing through their noses at me in restaurants.
Outside of the major tourists areas, your chances of avoiding this in Mexico are pretty good. But if you insist on immigrating, I’d suggest you steer clear of El Torito on Saturday nights. 
I like peace and quiet when I eat an enchilada with my lady.
Doug, despite his collection of cranberry Banana Republic shirts and religious devotion to tweezing, will be represented by the “Dud” card in “Mystery Date.”
I don’t want three chunky Julios butchering their guitars in my face, singing “Frito Bandito” at the top of their lungs while I’m masticating with my Maria in public. Comprende?
Comprendo.  And a friendly tip: if you want to hear the “Frito Bandito song” you’ll get better results requesting “Cielito Lindo.”  Also, it’s illegal in four Mexican states to masticate your Maria in public.
3. I want some money, honey. I’d be running north to the States through Gila monsters, prickly pear and javelinas…
Wow!  It’s just like that one Christopher Cross song!
…because after about a year of living La Vida Broka, I’d like to earn some real cash, dammit. Getting paid in drinking gourds, chickens and corn tortillas after pouring concrete for 18 hours a day in 119 degree heat would get real old muy quickly.
On the bright side, I hear that over the next two decades, Mexico is planning to slowly transition from a strictly barter-based economy and introduce some form of specie.
Yes, I would be looking across the border for the bigger, better deal for me and mi casa if I were an upright Mexican with kids to take care of. Who can blame them?
I’m gonna take a wild leap here and guess…You?
I’d also be looking to relocate in the States if I were a punk criminal/piece of Samsonite/worthless scum bucket/Darwinian holdover from anywhere in the world. Why? It’s quite obvious. America has more stuff and better stuff for the criminal’s clutches.
Criminals are marked by certain innate characteristics, among them: ambition, a tireless work ethic, and a Horatio Alger-like willingness to endure hardship in order to improve their circumstances.  Also, they can’t be hurt or scratched, even when a gorilla throws them around his cage.
Look, sombrero and donkey theft in Guadalajara is only fun for the first two, maybe three times, and after that the buzz wears thin. In America, however, there are all kinds of toys to steal and plenty of people, places and things to use and abuse.
Yep, there’s nothing in Latin America worth stealing except livestock and comical headgear.  Is it just me, or do you get the impression that the closest Doug has come to Mexico is the front counter at Taco Bell? 
In some cities if we catch you, the illegal alien, we won’t even report you or deport you. Isn’t that yummy?
“Yummy?”  What are you, Charles Nelson Reilly?  I think what you’re referring to, Doug, are the municipalities that prevent police from asking about the immigration status of people who are being questioned, but not arrested.  But rest assured, if you’ve been caught redhanded in non-donkey-related theft north of the border, the authorities are likely to get a little more inquisitive.  So you should probably just take a deep breath and relax before you really get wound up and start shouting epithets at your readers…
However, you must be careful, you chunk of thieving, raping, killing and gang-bangin’ crud, that you stay in a “Sanctuary City.” Indeed, in order to have a long and successful life of crime here in the United States of Anarchy, you, the felonious illegal freak, have to choose with precision the places to prey upon our people. If you don’t, you could (if caught in some municipalities) get sent back to Suckville and the old donkey thieving, mariachis and Mexican soap opera schlock. And you wouldn’t want that to happen now would you, señor?
While Doug wrote this paragraph, he paused periodically to choke the life from a Speedy Gonzalez plush toy.
You think your gardner is just a nice, hard-working guy?  Well here he is on his day off!
To help you in your evil and illegal existence here in the States, herewith is a partial list of craven, criminal-assisting cities to inhabit in order for you to carry out dirty deeds…
If arrested here, never fear; the local authorities won’t even ask you where you are from and if you are legal. You will not be deported. It’s a satanic dream-come-true for you poor little darlings.
Because the local ordinances of Cicero, Illinois, and Katy, Texas trump the power of the U.S. government.  Look how the Feds had to back off from enforcing the drug laws in states that passed medical marijuana initiatives.  Suck on that, DEA, while I suck on this joint!  HA!
Rest assured, demoniacs, that the Mayor McCheeses who lord over the sanctuary cities promise you the following if you get busted: no deportation and outrageously cheap bail.
I don’t think Mayors –even the famously iron-fisted alcalde of MacDonaldland — can set bail or deport people by fiat, although I so believe the Grimace is empowered to summarily execute anyone caught misappropriating a Shamrock Shake.
If convicted, they guarantee you stupidly short sentences, a nice education, some soft porn on cable, three squares a day, plus Pilates classes and…and…when you get out…they’ll let you stay in their city where you can screw them and us all over again.
Nice prisons they have in Chandler, Arizona.  Of course, these are the same things Doug’s congregation is required to provide him (not to mention frequent vacations, hunting trips, and sabbaticals), so my advice to the luggage-resembling, donkey-thieving demoniacs casting an envious gaze to the north is to forget slogging across the Rio Grande.  Just rent a ballroom at the Matamoros Holiday Inn and start your own church!  But get a J. Crew catalogue and some volumizing hair gel first.
Posted by scott on Tuesday, August 28th, 2007 at 3:57 pm.

36 Responses to “Sanctuary? We Don’ Need No Steeking Sanctuary!”

To help you in your evil and illegal existence here in the States
Whoa, soundin’ a bit like Osama there, sports fan.
…Ohhhhhhhhkay. Well, evil DOES exist. Anyone care to guess which Pastor I will now cite as evidence?
Oh, I hope the various legal and not so legal citizens of Miami read this incredibly hateful (and very unfunny) little screed of Doug’s.
I can hear ‘em now, (and allow me my own little precious package of Doug Giles like prejudice for just a moment here)
“Dougie! You’ve got some ‘SPLAININ to do!”
Turning the other cheek and all that, but does anyone *really* believe that Jesus would not have put this little punk on his ass within the first twenty minutes of their being introduced at a party? Jesus was, after all, not white, and I’m sure Doug would have accused Him of being an illegal alien, possibly in humorous exaggerated accent. There’s really only so much a Messiah should be expected to put up with from the idiot greedily drinking his transubstantiated wine.
2. I’d get sick of mariachis playing their big guitars and singing through their noses at me in restaurants.
Because so many of the people who risk their necks to get across our border can afford to eat out…
Dougito better not visit Mexico because the natives will doubtless sacrifice him alive before their god at the pyramid of the sun while mariachis sing “ai yai yai yai” and everyone eats nachos and bets on cock fights. Later, like after Dougito is dead,the party will travel via stretch limo to the “W” hotel in Mexico City where everyone will drink cosmos at the 5-star restaurant/bar on the 89th floor, listen to U2 and Lenny Kravitz play live, watch world soccer live on the big screen HDTV and snack on sushi and tempura.
I agree with Mich. Mel Gibson warned us of that very thing!
OMG. I can’t believe people say this stuff out loud – and put their name on it!
Señor Giles,
Bajate a los chescos y chinga tu madre.
Doug “Nattering Nabob” Giles continues to exercise his vast abilities for awkward alliteration in a way that would bring a tear to Spiro Agnew’s eye.
I have to give it to him, though: he’s exercising more subtlety now. “Friendly foreigners”, “ravenous Rosie … remnants .. ripe mango seed”, “masticating with my Maria”, etc. Points off for the last one, though — if he must alliterate, why can’t he use shorter words? “Munching,” perhaps?
I think that Dougie has exhausted the great comic possibilities of alliteration. Perhaps he could progress to assonance for his next work.
I can just hear him now.
“Heh heh. Assonance.”
This is a “man of the cloth?” Not exactly filled w/ Jesus’ love, is he?
Takes the Self-righteous Shitheel of the Month Award, for the whole year.
And filled w/ cultural understanding, too.
This is what passes for humor in Wingnuttia, I guess.
Of course, he doesn’t say anything about the Cubans who infest Miami, their neighborhoods filled w/ signs in Spanish & the air filled w/ their music. It’s one thing if people are leaving a dirty commie regime, where there’s no upper class they could aspire to, but fleeing the results of capitalism gone mad is just wrong. Why, if they weren’t so lazy, they’d all be as rich as Carlos Slim!
Once again, I am inspired to commit physical violence. Aaaghhh!!
Man, what sterotype hasn’t this guy used yet?
He left out piñatas.
Y’know I should find Doug offensive. Lord knows if it were Mark Styne or someone saying this stuff I would. But I just can’t get mad at Doug. He’s to damn goofy.
Yes, I would be looking across the border for the bigger, better deal for me and mi casa if I were an upright Mexican with kids to take care of.
Mi casa? People are transporting houses across the border now?
Also, scott, you accidentally repeated quote 11. Might want to fix that.
Herr Doktor, Doug is kinda like a pinata-hit any line from his column, and stupid falls out.
If convicted, they guarantee you stupidly short sentences, a nice education, some soft porn on cable, three squares a day, plus Pilates classes and…and…
OK, so Dougie Hoser makes the logical leap from “police won’t question people who witness or report a crime about their immigration status” to “soft porn” and “Pilates classes”?
He must be some kind of super hero!
Dougie Hoser
Dorothy for the win.
4. He had to pass through Santa Maria.
6. Jacob’s [pronounced 'Hey, Cubs'] well was there. Jesus [pronounced 'Hey, Zeus'], tired from his chupacabra hunt, sat down there at the well. It was about noon.
7. A woman of Santa Maria came to draw water. Jesus said to her, “Hey, coochie baby, give me a drink. A large marg; hold the salt. And maybe we’s can share some tequilla.”
8. His disciples had gone into the town to buy food and knock the sombreros off the Mexicanos in siesta.
9. The Santa Marian woman said to him, “How can you, a Knox Theological Seminarian, ask me, a Santa Marian woman, for a drink?” (For Knox Theological Seminarians use nothing in common with Santa Marians.)
10. Jesus answered and said to her, “If you knew the gift of Giles and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink, hot mama,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water. I know a place where you can have sancturay, away from all these Gila monsters, prickly pear and javelinas.”
13,14. And he said to her, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again due to Montezuma’s Revenge; but whoever drinks the water I shall give will never thirst; the water I shall give will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life back across the border. Mi casa su casa, my little sopaipilla. You can clean my house and raise my children.”
17. The woman answered and said to him, “Can I bring my five husbands, and the guy I’m currently shacked up with?”
18. And he said, “Well, only if they can do some gardening and are willing to be sold to my neighbors for muy pesos.” He added, “I can tell you are a worthless scum bucket [ed -- had to add the 's' there; this is a family church bulletin] and that your Maria has been heavily masticated.”
19. The woman said to him, “Sir, I can see that you are a prophet.”
Yay! Somebody who knows less about Mexico then I do.
I thought I heard somewhere that there are a few really powerful drug cartels in central america.
It sort of seems like starting from scratch in a country where lots of politicians are pretty sure you’re a criminal because you aren’t white would be a step down from ruling an entire town with a iron fist would be a step down.
I dunno. I’d probably at least keep a summer home back in the old country.
Also, how Jesusy is it to say “I’d love to help, but you might be a criminal, so suck it.”?
while I live on a marina in Miami next to a world-class golf course…
While your congregation still meets (for its one service a week) in Conference Room B of the Aventura Off-Ramp Inn…
It’s a small thing,I know, but… Samsonite? What do wingnuts have against Samsonite?
sent back to Suckville
Lo siento, Senor Giles, but the Spanish name is El Chupapueblo.
How does this guy even have one follower in his congregation? I just can’t believe there are people out there who think the message of Jesus Christ is “Listen to my servant on earth brag about his golf course home, and then threaten poor immigrants because he doesn’t like the size of their guitars, probably because he is overcompensating for the way My Father made him.”
Actually, I have no idea what kind of gruel you have to slog through
Dougie baby, just because a hard slog is gruelling, doesn’t mean that what you slogged through was gruel. I have this mental picture of the Rio Grande after an oatmeal barge has capsized. But damn, the man’s an alliterating illiterate.
If arghous rewrote the Bible, I would actually read it.
Me too. Or anything else that arghous wants to write (hint hint).
And yea verily, M. Bouffant, Doug Giles is a man of the cloth: Armani, although his follower has a brother-in-law who can get stuff wholesale at Men’s Wearhouse.
Okay, I admit it. I chuckled at “living La Vida Broka.”
Somebody please kill me.
I don’t get it. Why he inserts Spanish words when talking/writing about Mexico (or Latin America)?
Is it supposed to be funny? (It isn’t.) Is it supposed to show his understanding of the other culture? (He doesn’t.)
I think everything he ever learned about Mexico came from listening to Pat Boone’s Gawdoffel ’60′s hit “Speedy Gonzales”.
As a Canadian – and I’m sure I’m not alone – I sincerely hope Douglas doesn’t put the maple leaf on his backpack when he goes travelling.
Bill S. says,
‘I think everything he ever learned about Mexico came from listening to Pat Boone’s Gawdoffel ’60’s hit “Speedy Gonzales”.’
Must be, since watching the cartoons would have left him with far less stupidity and more fellow-feeling.
Do you think his sermons are all racy bigot wit and faux-dialect colloquial riffin’ like this column? Hoo boy.
No, that’s not ALL there is to them; there’s also dated pop culture references. Nobody’s heard the “Frito Bandito” song in about 30 years.
So…whose enchilada were he and his lady eating? Or was it a falafel?
I am filled with an irresistible urge to kick Doug’s head in. Stupid self-inflated prick that he is.
So people give to his “ministry” so he can brag about his house, and expensive tastes? Damn! I’ve got to get into that business.

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