Cans?

So on a day when most were driving to the beach to enjoy some sun and waves, I was heading down to the local doughnut shop to pick up a couple mexicans to help me paint my house. Instead of sun and waves I would be enjoying the smell of drakkar and a poorly groomed mustache. Apparently mexicans don't follow the same rules the rest of us follow regarding facial hair...if it needs to be penciled in you shouldn't try to grow it (see Magnum P.I., ZZ Top and anyone who's name ends in "is").

As I drive towards the doughnut shop debating whether to pick up a couple cans or honk my horn and yell "la migre", I decide I need the help. My brother is in rehab and my friends know I'm painting so my calls will be sent straight to voicemail. I start thinking about the amount of painting and sanding that needs to be done so I grab two. The 17 other illegals were practically wrestling each other to jump in my car. It looked like something out of Nacho Libre. So I take Tito and Nacho back to the house and let them know for the remainder of the day I will be referring to them as Tit and Snatch because I have trouble with the letter "o" and Snatch sounds better than Nach.

So Tit and Snatch get right to work and I quickly realize I will be getting my moneys worth. My friends would have taken twice as long and they would remind me about "the time they helped me paint" any time they needed something over the next 12 years .

I turned on my am/fm radio and allowed them to pick the station that would be the soundtrack to our day. After 9 hours of slow mexican love songs that would make even Ray J beg for Metallica, I decided it was time to call it a day.

Rather than take them straight home to their overweight wives and 7 kids, I treat them to their favorite beverage at the local watering hole. After I saw the look on their face when they realized they could order budweiser in a can, I had an internal debate; Do we call them "cans" as a shortened version of "Mexicans" or was it their love for beer in a can?