El Moreno is right. He unravels the truth until it is threadless, naked, fictitious, and reeking of sarcasm. Kosovo was rough, but to be reunited in the inland empire – gorging ourselves in orange groves until we shat Tampico – was sweet beyond all description.

That’s where we met, el moreno and el oso, two outcasts on a bamboo raft in California’s most conservative enclave: the O.C. Surviving high school in Orange County required far more sacrifice and enduring peril than we ever glimpsed in Kosovo.

Our death-defying adventures to ensure the sanctity of our empire, The Kingdom of Bushes, was to be continued next month. El Moreno and El Oso were to be driving through the paved arteries of our Monarch’s Kingdom in a small Japanese import which was mostly made in Mexico with Chinese Parts. We were more than helping moreno move. We were fixing the world, one red neck town after the next. One plot we envisioned – a sure success – was to go to one of those trucker diners with the telephones at each booth. You know – the red telephones. You can call the other tables and have conversations.

We were going to do just that. Call every trucker in the place and give them five complements. Real complements; more than how well their handlebar accentuated their bone structure. And then we would offer a constructive way to propagate our mission. We would hug. Another well-disciplined brigade of big rig pacifist revolutionaries.

Unfortunately, Moreno’s dad said this wasn’t a good idea. That he should fly. Moreno protested.

“But Papí I want to change the world”
“No son”
“But Papí! I wet myself when I hear the landing gear coming down.”
“Be strong my son.”

El Moreno and I, ever since our time in Kosovo, we’ve learned to be flexible. “There are many toilets to the same ocean,” El Moreno used to tell me when one of our plans would fall through. Which is why we are now blogging together. You don’t realize this yet, we are so subtle and inconspicous, but if you have already read this far, you are (patient and) already changed.

So please, return. Submit yourself to our inculcation. We are changing the world, one post at a time.