Spanish Speaking Crawdads

You can't fit a horse in the front of a regular-cab truck, and you can't talk to crawdads who only speak Spanish.

Even if you promise the horse that he can sit by the window, they are really fucking stubborn. Even if you say "oh, come the fuck on. get in the truck you stupid horse." They really have something against floor mats or something.

And Spanish speaking crawdads, they are a whole other type of problem. You would think that a little mini-lobster would be a really conversive little bitch. They just dig holes in the mud, eat little bugs and swim in the water all day. Not a bad life. But those little fuckers won't even acknowledge you until you speak en de Espanol. You can be like "hey, how's it going little mini-lobster? I bet you are happy you aren't in the ocean, because you are a fresh water little lobster and if you were in the salt water you'd probably be thinking 'SHIT, I'm in the OCEAN!'," but they still won't answer. But say one thing about taco caliente adobe mufflefuck and they start chattering away. Silly crawdads.

Life is more fun when viewed through a haze. Or sunglasses. Polarized sunglasses (en Espanol: "el polarizedo sun glasees")