Racist Mexican Jokes Novels & Stories

"No, sweetheart, you deserve to be here just as much as the next person. What I'm getting at is you're not typical of a woman seeking him." And thus begins the process of this asshole sticking his mouth in his throat. "Because I'm Mexican?" His eyes get wide. He doesn't like the fact that I just accused him of being racist. Well, welcome to my life, jackass. I live that day in and day out. "Absolutely not!" he exclaims. "What I mean is that—" "I'm young and he's not?" I ask. He sighs, grimaces a little, and then nods. "I'm sure you're a wonderful person. It's just... This is unusual behavior for him."

“I see you smiled. We are making progress my friend. You know why I’m in here for life? I stabbed two men with an eye and didn’t stop there’ Impressive that he had it in him to be that bold but that didn’t mean I wanted to be his anything. He seemed to have hurt by a forgotten memory before he opened his mouth to add, “They raped my little Carmencita and later killed her. And all for what? Because she was from another country, had an ascent to her voice? We came here for better opportunities than what Mexico offered. Her mother had just died and I was struggling to make ends meet but still, I was trying. My Carmencita never lacked anything; she was a nice girl. A nice girl I tell you”

I move to the side of the door and closer to Skull so no one is between him and a bullet. The man they call Rack comes through first. His gun is drawn and he turns it toward Skull. I don’t acknowledge him. Rack’s a big white guy, and it’s Gomez who’s going to determine if I take out Skull or not. Gomez enters—his dark skin and heritage prominent. Skull’s eyes grow large. Fox would have our heads for just smiling at a wet-back fuckin’ Mexican. Fox’s words. I’m not only smiling, I’m getting into the same bed. Celina comes in behind Gomez. I don’t pay attention to her, though I know she has a single thought on her mind.

Each muscle of my body creaked with the movement, like a very old and little used spring. Without realizing it, I ended up holding it with a little more force against the mattress, and it tore itself in my hand, releasing foam. I laughed, and my cellmate looked over his shoulder. How much urine would that bastard have kept in a single night to take so long? "Be careful, hermano," he said, in his foreign accent. I always suspected that Ramirez was Mexican. First, by last name. Then, for his angular face and with traits that could only be Latin. And the bastard didn't help at all by wearing bandanas on his forehead and keeping his hair up to his shoulders attached to a rubber band. "They will

I move to the side of the door and closer to Skull so no one is between him and a bullet. The man they call Rack comes through first. His gun is drawn and he turns it toward Skull. I don't acknowledge him. Rack's a big white guy, and it's Gomez who's going to determine if I take out Skull or not. Gomez enters-his dark skin and heritage prominent. Skull's eyes grow large. Fox would have our heads for just smiling at a wet-back fuckin' Mexican. Fox's words. I'm not only smiling, I'm getting into the same bed. Celina comes in behind Gomez. I don't pay attention to her, though I know she has a single thought on her mind.

I was chatting my aunt in Mexico that were on plane and asked her to pick us since this is our first time stepping in the land of Mexico. I wonder how good the food in there? "Chlo-Chlo I didn't wear napkins" My jaw dropped at what she added and menacing eyes I turned to her while Alice burst out of laughter. The crowds also laughing like hell but some of them disgusted as they stared us. "Why you didn't wear?! And why the hell you said it so loudly?" I squeezed her skin out of annoyance and sarcastically smile to those people who'se looking down on us. "S-sorry I can't help it" I bitted my lower lips and checked our things if we brought some of napkins but failed. We don't have extras napki

“It’s the most violent Hispanic gang in the United States. It’s run by the Mexican Mafia. Shit, Gabby, how can you not even know what MS13 is?” With a shrug, I answered, “Well, clearly, I don’t run in the same circles as you.” “Fuck me,” he murmured, glancing around the hallway in confusion. “You really didn’t sic Mad Manny on me, did you?” “Umm, no.” I crossed my arms over my chest, ready for an apology. “I really didn’t. And I’m sure I couldn’t even afford one even if I did want to scare you off.” “No,” he said slowly before his eyes widened. “Maybe you couldn’t. But I’m sure that fancy, rich boyfriend of yours could.”

he touched his shoulder. "Look man, please don't do it," Michael begged. "Hey Carlos," Federico called out. "Yes, boss?" Carlo came forward. He was a Hispanic with the body of an NFL player. "He just called you black," Federico said, pointing a finger at Michael. The inmates giggled. Carlos turned to Michael and cracked his hand. "There ain't no escaping, you racist," he laid his hands on Michael. Michael's screams were heard for hours but it was the reward of what his greed cost him.

I nodded. There was a general sense of unease in the room. I don’t care. Fuck these old bastards. “And I think it’s more than an outdated view to speak so negatively about meta-humans. To be frank, it’s racist. And I rather doubt we want the company to become known as racists.” Mason shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess we're not allowed to order any drinks without upsetting wannabe George Lopez?" "Hey, motherfucker," Oscar said. "That's fucking racist." "Why?" I asked. "Because you stole that second joke of yours from the third season of his show, or because you can't actually think of anything funny to say?" "What, hey, I didn't steal any jokes!" Oscar fumed. "Alright, dude," you said. "Don't freak out. Just go watch the show, I'm sure you just did it by accident." "What the fuck? Hey, security, get this punk out of here," Oscar said.