Friday, May 17, 2013


SECTUR's wonderful campaign on what makes Mazatlán for the foreigner the wonderful place it is introduced us to some pleasurable pastimes undertaken by some of our kin shouting the words "THIS IS MY MAZATLÁN" after a brief insight into what makes their Mazatlán. Isn't it amazing what one's desire for their 10 seconds of fame can unearth in all its eccentricity.

We have one or two favourites especially the one when they threw a man into a shark tank. He was later dragged out minus four limbs but was lucky enough to still retain enough lung to croak "This is my Mazatlán" before expiring. No longer enjoying the use of a right arm he was unable to do a 'thumbs up'.

A sharp-eyed passerby snapped this terrifying cell phone image of a diver being torn asunder from a deadly killer fish of some sort. Maybe the detached hand is giving the "thumbs up"

It appears from our second favourite  "This is my Mazatlán" that church-going is a happy occurrence but from our own experience it is a rather sad place to go to seek redemption from a murder committed or a robbery you undertook and it is therein where you can be assured of immediate forgiveness. However the captured couple smilingly praying seem to be enjoying the experience and from the radiant looks on their countenances and their keen 'thumbs up' on exiting probably accounted for their prayers being answered. Lets hope they prayed for world peace rather than winning the lottery.

The 'up-the-nose' shot of the church-going "This is my Mazatlán" couple indicating to the heavens that that's what makes 'Their Mazatlán.'
(Just go to youtube and type in This is my mazatlan to see all the delights mentioned above and more....)

MaReal staff have to get in on the act and have compiled a list of what makes Mazatlán the Pearl of the Pacific it deserves to be. 

We sent out our amateur photographer and cub reporter Justine "Bill" Farnsworth to interview typical foreigners on what makes their Mazatlán.

"Bill" Farnsworth

more interviews after the break...........

"We just lurve Mazatlán and all it has to offer." mumbled Doreen and Madge from Mooseleg in Saskatoon, "Even the dried prawn, burning rubber and sewerage smells that sometimes waft over Centro add a delightful Third World charm. A charm that Moosebum doesn't have because as you all know Canada is the cleanest country on the planet where everything smells of bleach." 

"This Is Our Mazatlán"

Their carefree kids, playing on the specially designed 'Toe Squasher' rocking thingy would certainly agree if they knew what the 'thumbs up' meant.

Deke and Isbeth (Isbeth is the one showing a leg) from some hidden valley in Kentucky just gave the 'thumbs up' because Mazatlán gave them the opportunity to get married when only 12 years old. "We been together for all of our 12 years and I just wanted to continue the tradition in our family of marryin' my sister as pappy did with his sister. For 500 pesos the captain of a shrimp boat tied us the knot." gurgled Deke. 

Unhappily a few seconds after 'Bill' snapped this cute pic, Isbeth tripped over her wedding dress rushing to eat the cake and squashed the life out of poor Deke whose teeth had to be surgically removed from her thigh..

"I come from a predominately Tea Party governed state in the YOU.S.A," gushed Tammy, "And as you all know this fine city of Mazatlán has a more open policy on publishing and the printing of gender issue porno and knitting magazines for teenage women. This is My Mazatlán!!"

"Woof woof says Gertie my Chihuahua."

"THIS IS MY MAZLATALÁN," slurred Dong (or did he say Don? - Ed) from somewhere in Texas. 
We presumed it is from the fact that illegitimately from behind the pool hall you can have a part time doctor  cum barkeep from Venezuela cheaply graft a beer tap onto your forehead thereby saving you the energy from having to call a waiter over and drunkenly speak to him in Spanish.

"This operation would cost me a fortune in Dogend Texas." he assured us and immediately fell over blind drunk burying the beer tap into his cranium.

"Mazatlán is the only place on the surf scene man where you can wear fetish leathers and carry a 12 gauge pump on your surfboard." croaked  Mississippi “Sandwich” J-Bay from behind his restrictive leather mask. "Those pesky kids on boogie boards stay the hell out my way." he laughingly added.

As he couldn't do the 'thumbs up' without dropping something he shot a couple of passing dogs in agreement and an iguana (seen blown apart by his right foot). A few yards down the road he fell over gasping for breath and died an agonising death as no one wanted to apply mouth to mouth. A couple of kids took the opportunity in the crowd of laughing onlookers to steal his board and shotgun.

"This is our Mazatlán!" echoed 7 expats taking advantage of the overhead wires so beloved in Mazatlán, to take a commute thereby avoiding the erratic driving of the locals and having to communicate with them in Spanish.

"This is our Mazatlán." whooped a fat couple from somewhere outside Mexico.

 They continued, "Isn't it wonderful that you can pay a street beggar's son to take you on a tour of the city and then onto El Quelite, Copala and then come back and clean out our NoMa apartment, skim the pool, feed the dogs, clean the leaves out the gutter and wash the three SUV's and 6 Harleys all for 50 centavos."

"Man, we love these cheap screwed-up Third World countries we only see from outside the windows of our gated community penthouse suite."

"This is our Mazatlán." says everyone who comes here who loves lifting a beer to the sunset. "The sunsets are the best in the world especially when the wind and dust blows from the direction of the burning tyre dump, garbage mountain and the Thermoelectric power station. The smoke allows a 'sunset' to be observed at midday as well as in the evening."

"هذا هو لدينا مازاتلان"* jerked the Imhapotep Hatshepshut Ancient Egyptian Dance Troupe visiting from Thebes.

" نحن نحب مازاتلان وجميع ما لهذا العرض ولكن للأسف لا توجد المساجد حيث يمكننا عبادة. واعطى الاميركيون العرب لنا وقتا عصيبا" they jokingly said.

 * This is our Mazatlán

"Dies ist unsere Mazatlán"*. Enthused the Wagner-Schloss-Eidelweis family of German expats originally from the Black Forest Gateaux Alpine region of Weisswolden Schrappenhuser Gotlieber Berggihuber. 

Here, stiff as ramrods, Gunter, Winkler, Elke, Emma and Fritzi  wearing their church-going  Bavarian thigh-slappin' dress for the occasion.

"Wir sind so liebe diese Stadt, wo wir tanzen können, trinken Bier und schlagen Sie Ihre lederhosens Tag und Nacht." they continued.

"Hier können wir tragen, was wir wollen, und niemand denkt, wir sind Idioten." they continued again.

* This is our Mazatlán

"This is our Mazatlán." said a happy couple between French kisses. "We love the excitement of the Annual carnival. We can let our hair down, drink Margaritas till we pass out in the gutter and snog anyone who is passing."

"Este es mi Mazatlán." said a young, broom, sand sifter, oriental steamer, hand crank food mixer and general box street sales boy Pedro. Pedro will also change a spare tyre, do the re-grouting,  cut your hair and peel your shrimp for a modest fee. 

"This is my Mazatlán" shouted Hailey from Kansas as she opened her gaping jaws. "Lookee here. Where else can you get done everything you desire on your teeth for the amount is would cost just to clean them back in Cornshed Kansas."

"This is my Mazatlán." said someone we don't know, presumably from the UK because as we know expat people from the British Isles like to keep to themselves and shun society in general. 

She added "Here in Mazatlán as an expat I can really keep to my self and refrain from 'joining in' and not carry the stigma and stigmata of being known as an unsociable twat who thinks they are better than everyone else with their long noses stuck high in the air."

"This is my Mazatlán" slurred a couple of drunken Australians from Sheepbutt Woollamallola. 

We couldn't get anything else out of them because one fell flat on his face and the other tried to punch the hapless 'Bill' Farnsworth for being a Pommie bastard and a sober woman. 

"I am Canadian you piece of Wombat shit." she ventured. 

"Ha ha gggggrrphh." was all he could say as "Bill' gave him the benefit of her steel toe-cap boot in the bollocks where he fell comotosed face-down in a pile of Chihuahua poo.

"This is our Mazatlán." screeched the Bicycle Broom Polo Players Beach Club down on Olas Altas

"This-is-my-Mazatlán." purred Gladys (the one on the left). "for where else do the authorities allow your embalmed daughter to sit and keep you company. As I cannot get around much due to my arthritis it saves the tiresome walk to the panteón to lay flowers and have a chat on the Day of The Dead. For here she is right in my living room."

"This is my Mazatlán." enthused 'Snake Hips' Harry from Pamplemousse Carolina. "Dressing up and dancing with the young ladies keeps me young and spry. Plus the new Mexican hip I just got installed cost virtually nothing. Elvis eat your heart out." he cried as an ambulance was called after his knees popped horribly. Sounding like gunfire the crowd scattered causing more deaths trampled underfoot.

"This is our Mazatlán." shrieked the high-steppin' trio of women from the Mazatlán Thai kickboxing, trampolining and ballet dancing club. Nothing can curb the enthusiasm of these three dangerous looking ladies as they can be seen leaping gracefully up and down the beaches and malecons of our fine city.

"This is my Mazatlán." quipped Zeke from Vancouver. "As a Canadian I like to keep a tight control of my spending and for half a centavo I can get a close shave from the local authority workers when they pass by annually to machete the trees into those nice box shapes."

"This is My Mazatlán." whistled Svetlana. "My recorder lessons at the wonderful Angela Peralta theatre night school for jazz learners allowed me to lay down on vinyl my renditions of local bird calls. These delights are the perfect sounds to play to remind me of Mazatlán when you invite friends round for a BBQ back in Calgary. I even have a night as guest with the wonderful local blues and bird call band BGitja."

 (This disc is available from Amazon Russia.)

"This is Our Mazatlán man." rapped the groovy quartet from East Westside Detroitville Harlemtown.

"Hey Mezzie, lay some of that hard-cuttin' mess on me. I'm short of a deuce of blips but I'll straighten you later." jived the first cat.
"Righteous, gizz, you're a poor boy but a good boy — now don't come up crummy." layed down the second cat.
"Never no crummy, chummy. I'm gonna lay a drape under the trey of knockers for Tenth Street and I'll be on the scene, wearin' the green. And that's this hip town Mazatlán for ya. You dig." came Mezzie.

"This is our Mazatlán." cried this family from Nebraska. 

"We like to stick together and SoreAss bike hire gives us the opportunity to see the sights of Old Town Mazatlán and allow Ma to catch up on her sewing chores at the same time."

"This is my Mazatlán."  mumbled some old coot from Nanavut Canada. "Here on my left, or is it my right is a thing I built out of straw and wood where I do stuff and behind me is another straw thing where I live. You see I can live here in Mazatlán like a king subsisting quite lavishly on my government pension. If I was back in Nanavut I would squatting in an igloo and eating snow."

"This is my Mazatlán." coughed Hillary from Phoenix. "I just love it here as us smokers are not persecuted as lepers if I was back in Phoenix Az. For instance I hiked ten miles up Squaw Peak to have  a  cigarette on top of the mountain when a black helicopter flew over and told me to put it out immediately. I have heard they use drones to take out smokers who have emigrated to Pakistan and Afghanistan just so they can light up a cool, tasty cigarette."

"This is my Mazatlán." cooed Fanny from Mississippi. "Me and my bird Horace can smoke to our hearts content without those dang black helicopters bothering us."

 "This is my Mazatlán." grinned the delightful short-sighted blonde superstar model Giselle from Moosetail who notoriously got married to a 12 foot surf board thinking is was in fact a 6 foot board. "Where else but in Mazatlán can the Captain of a shrimp boat marry you and your surfboard. My brother, in fact, is coming soon so he can get married to his X Box and Sony Playstation. Elsewhere that would be bigamy, Except maybe in Salt Lake City." she cooed.

As you can see there is a wealth of interesting expats, little known to the general foreigner community here. It just takes the fine investigative reporters from MazReal to unearth them and bring them to you in all their glory.

However not everyone thinks Mazatlán is the 'Bee's Knees' as this cheeky fellow indicated on leaving this fine city, as a below deck passenger on the Queen Matilda convict ship bound for Sydneyville in Stralialand.

"And the same to you mate."

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