Next is a very, very common question: How do you say 'gopher' in Spanish?

As I tell everyone who asks this of me, Spanish is very simple. And as far as Mexican Spanish, you can't ask for an easier lesson. You see, because Mexicans have no words of their own and only steal American words, you simply add an "o" or an "a" on the end of the English word you want to translate (whether it is an 'a' or an 'o' depends on what sounds best to your ear), and then shift the accent to the penultimate syllable. You deliver the word with a slight wag of the head and bob of the neck earthward on that beat. "Gophehhhhh-ro." See? Easy. NOTE: If you are addressing the gopher directly, it is only polite to use a proper title, such as "Señor," or "Señora." PS: Gophers are never called "Doña!" Don't trip up on this rule! It will make for a very ugly gathering of small, furry animals.

Next we come to this question: 'Why do Mexicans want to come to America?'

You know, amig@: I ask myself that often. I think it has something to do with the great love that is showered upon them when they arrive. You see, as Mexican life is filled with nothing from dawn to dusk but knife-fights, drug deals, roving murderous gang life, and infection it can get very depressing. When a Mexican throws his or her citizenship to the wind, leaves family ties behind, braves Minutemen, blinding heat, death by snake, starvation, or treachery it is really only because the American Love that is gained in return is overwhelmingly "worth it." Even a mind-numbing, stinking, bloody job like packing meat in a dank slaughterhouse is a joy, when the days are filled with American Love. I mean, why else would someone do such a thing, right?

Question Cuatro: 'I'm Mexican-American. What Indian tribe am i from?'

Answer: Call home, m'ija! Indian-Google is down for the day, and like Billmon, may not return. :(

Moving right along and reaching into our Google-Sack, we produce this jewel: Why do us Whites hate Mexicans?

Oh, stop that! There you go again, imposing your own setup on everyone! Whites do not hate Mexicans. That's just you, Lou! And if you need to ask Google why you hate....mebbe you ought to think about letting it drop, you know? Because while Google may feel Godlike to you, it's just a software program designed to hunt for matching symbols in a huge mass of data. And data is love, vato. Data is love. Cut out the middleman and make your own.

The next query to land in Nezua's helpful hands is What Mexican blood is required to be labeled?

Now, I'm glad you asked this. Because it's a crucial issue facing our health care professionals today, and too many have this really strange notion that Mexican blood is just like other human blood. And that's just not true! Everyone knows that Mexican blood runs five to nine degrees hotter, and tastes like a cross between cinnamon, jalapeño, and well, blood. It would be completely irresponsible to simply note the blood type and leave it at that! Ay dios mio! The shivers that run through me to think of such a solvent being introduced into the common blood supply! The mandate handed down by MAMA (Mexican-American Medical Association) is that all Mexican blood must be labeled "Precious! Caliente! Mágica!" Please pass this along to your co-workers pronto.

Next is a question from a concerned diner who wants to know 'What are the Rolls of Behaviour in Mexican restaurants?'

Well, my fine chap, this is also something that not many people know about, so I'm glad you came to Nezua. Let me break it down for you. The Rolls of Behaviour are special pastries that are prepared from floor-swept coffee grounds and tainted maize-meal the year before consumption and stored in the bathroom for 364 days on an uncovered plate. When a gringo enters el restaurante and begins yammering out lucrative business deals loudly on their cell phone, counts out their Benjamins ostentatiously, offers to buy a round "for all my Campaneeros who can't afford it," or refers to the wait staff as Poncho, or Seenyareeta—we will simply smile politely, and prepare a complimentary serving of Behaviour Rolls (or as we like to call them "Las Masas de Crappas.") So smile! And enjoy!

Next: How Can White People Tell if They Are Ashy?

Ah, well. Now how can Nezua solve this one if the question has plagued Humankind for centuries? The truth is, White People are always ashy. But it doesn't matter! Because they love Ashy. It looks good on them! Hell, ashy knees and feet on ashy legs is a very sporty look, and has been for the last few hundred years. It's a trend that somehow never seems to tire and always is in fashion. Mark my words and keep an eye on the runways this spring! And enjoy! Those of us whose feet, knees, elbows and such show the effects of dead skin flake accumulation as lighter, powdery-looking areas will continue to slather lotions and oils on our skin until we cause The Mexican in us to emerge. And then, It will eat the ash clean until we are once again our lovely summery-smooth selves.

I must decline any help for the seeker who longs to stumble upon "Wetback Mexican Butts." I'm afraid you may have come to the wrong website. We have none of this product here. Although if you are patient, I do believe we have some pastries in the back. Perhaps they will do, Señor?

Next: Why do White People dominate swimming? Well, the answer is right there! It's all the ash. Ash floats.

For today's last, er...question, I want to be forced to be a Mexican man, I'm finally stumped for words.

All I can really say is that while your dream is an admirable one, you seek an honor that only Nature can bestow. For when she puts The Mexican in you, there is no negotiation. And if she chooses not to, then there is nothing you can do except, perhaps, simmer up some salsa, roll yourself a fat tamale, and sip a negra modelo. Be a friend, an ally. And entertain the notion of leaving "force" behind. Force makes one ashy. Try love. Data. And google.com/indian.

Aiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiaiiiiiiiiiiiiija! Hope you got a laugh! Enjoy your Friday, vat@s!