I went to boarding school in Ohio with a Mexican guy named Alonso Castillo. He was always talking about how shitty Ohio is compared to Mexico. This wasn't a stretch for me, since my toilet after a garbage plate is way better than Ohio. Anyway, he came home with me to New York one weekend and we did what any self-respecting 19 year-olds would do: we broke into an abandoned house with a couple cases of beer and hosted a party.
There was only six or seven of us, but we plowed through 48 beers in short order. This may not seem like that much, but considering at least three of the party-goers were chicks who tapped out after 3 beers or so, and another guy was a light-weight, I think Alonso and I must have had 15 each at the minimum.
Long story short, Alonso is known for his hot temper. After he passed out, we left him alone until we heard him talking in his sleep. We listened in for a while, but it was all in Spanish, so we didn't really understand what he was talking about. Naturally, we decided to try to steer the conversation.
We said, "Hey Alonso, lets go get some food."
Alonso mumbles: "Ahhh, comida, bueno, bueno."
Us: "Where do you want to go?"
Alonso: "Yo necessito Mexican comida ta bueno..."
Us: "Cool, lets go get some Taco Bell"
Alonso: "AYE CABRON! PINCHE TACO BELL! TU MADI CONE! AYE AYE AYE~! TACO BELL IS NOT MEXICAN FOOD!
Then, unconscious, he started punching the wall and swearing in Spanish.
The next morning, all of us nursing massive hangovers, we went looking for food and told Alonso the story from the night before. Interestingly, he got just as pissed when he was awake when we called it Mexican food. He didn't feel better about things until we passed a Chi Chi's, when he burst out laughing.
Us: "What's so funny, Alonso?"
Alonso: "Chi chi's is Spanish for 'tits.'"
2 hours ago