Xican@ Space Odyssey: Lance Liberty reports for 101.3 Honest Radio

It is sometime in the near future.

Laws have been set in motion to protect the American Homeland. Your freedom and sanity are at stake. Oh, and your jobs.

I forgot about your jobs. And your beautifully domesticated wives and children. You pay your taxes, yet you feel one-upped. Lied to. I know. I have a mortgage and a timeshare I haven’t paid in months. Meanwhile our lazy neighbors to the south consume our resources. But there’s no need to fear. No longer do we have to sit in Victoria’s Secret as our wives are gawked at by gang-banging border hoppers. No. Victoria is just beyond the horizon. And one man risks it all in his comfy radio studio located somewhere in the Arizona desert.

That man is Lance Liberty for 101.3 Honest Radio. Take it away, Lance…

Ladies and Gentleman: This is Lance Liberty on 101.3 Honest Radio. I interrupt this broadcast on your podcast and we hate to interrupt you during Real Housewives of New Jersey or disturb you in the middle of updating your Facebook status.

But this just in: Late this morning Mexicans vanished off the face of the Earth. The leaders of La Raza left a note on the door of one of the prisons Gov. Jan Brewer owns, I mean where Jan Brewer conducts prayer groups. Here’s the note:


Al rato putos. We are sick of your shit. We are on our way to the tenth planet, which you putos never found -- Planeta Atlantico. No, you are not welcome. Look what happened the last time we let you babosos spend the night.

You want us out of the country? You want us out of the schools? Orale! Let see how you do without all this sabor, this fuego, these brown hands to pick the food ya'll eat. Buena suerte, vergas.

Oh, and as a token of our appreciation we left you the following items:

Anyway, we left in a giant ranfla shaped como un Azteka templo, ese. We out, bitches. Oh yeah and our homies are coming with us: los negros, los chinos, los jotos, los sand vatos even the indios (red dot and feather), homie. So without further ado, we out. Ay te wacho...

P.S.: We left you a can of chinga tu madre right there on the counter. why don't you help yourself . Blood in Blood Out. Yeah, I quote screenplays, homie. Y que?...

The government has its best linguistics people analyzing this note to decipher some of the coded language and when we receive that information we will update you. But in the meantime, crack open those bottles, it just got a whole lot brighter in here! And in honor of this event we will be playing God Bless America back -to-back for 24 consecutive hours!

*Three Hours Later*

Wait a minute….. Uh huh, uh huh. This just in:

Ladies and gentleman. Scientist are predicting massive ecological effects due to the absence of all colored peoples in the environment including tornadoes, earthquakes and tidal waves abd sources tell us the entire Kardashian family has been discovered in a comatose state in their Encino casas.

The tragedy has reached the White House. Although President Obama refused to join the migration, Michelle Obama has decided to join La Raza in their journey. Mrs. Obama was quoted as saying, “Negro, please, I’m takin me and my babies on that ship. keep the dog.”

White adolescents are jonesing from the lack of hiphop music. One youth, arrested for burning down a Best Buy, was quoted as saying, “Yo muthafuckas, I need that Weezy Baby, yaayaa!”

Beautiful rich white babies’ asses are crusted with excrement, screaming and crying at the top of their lungs: “Guadalupe! Guadalupe! Turn around! Turn around! to your arms once again!”

The entire food industry has completely shut down. No supply! No cooks! No waiters! No people to clean up after good, decent, working Americans! I didn’t know Mexicans worked in every single restaurant in the country! Its chaos!

* Two Hours Later *

It is clear ladies and gentleman. I believe it was the Wizard of Oz; or was it God who said “ask and you shall receive.”

I don’t think I like this colorless world any more. The vibes floating around stink of uptight mediocrity. The food is bland. This isn’t a carne asada burrito I’m eating; it’s just cut-up meat rolled in a flat piece of bread.

This is far to much to bear. I think I may call it quits like Kurt Cobain and Hunter S. Thompson. (A gun can be heard cocking)

I had a senorita once, her name was Carmen. I guess, I’ll never see her again… Listeners this is Lance Liberty, for 101.3 Honest Radio, signing off. Good luck and good night…

¡BANG! (A lone gunshot)

* The Next Day *

Ladies and gentleman, this is a very pain-ridden Lance Liberty for 101.3 Honest Radio.

As I’m sure you all have heard, I shot my ear off in an attempted suicide last night. And, it seems, it was for no apparent reason, because this bulletin just came in:

Early this morning, another La Raza letter was discovered, this time at the Fourth Avenue jail in Downtown Phoenix:


eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh-sike! You vatos really thought that we was gone, huh? Nel Pastel, we tied to este Xikanlandia se llama Aztlan, Cemanauac. Soy Nican Tlaka; Muthafakah.

We're over here in Tent City with all the homies. We got this cochino here, you may of heard of him. His name is Sheriff Joe Ar-payaso. He's modeling some new pink chonies for us. We still can't decide on briefs or thongs; for all Ar-payaso's Neo-Nazi homeboys. Ni modo.

We are here to stay, gringos. Get use to it. La Raza's like that movie with that baby, who talks like that vato, Tone-Loc. " We don't die we multiply!... " There I go quotin' movies again, ese. Jajajah LOL LMAO and all that shit. Paz...

P.S. We want our shit back, but you can keep the White Jesi and John Ward.

P.S.eSe.: Bebe's Kid's, ESE! Thats what that movie is called.

This story first appeared on the Big Desert Little City blog.


This story came to POCHO via our Submissions page.
 Do you have something cool you’d like to share?
Just click and submit!