In the latest episode of 'Who Stole the Nachos?' the North American free trade deadline now glowers over the Rio Grande like a tequila-soaked hallucination. US and Mexican officials, locked in a dance more awkward than a giraffe on roller skates, are haggling over avocados, cars, and the existential question of whether a wall can be built from sour cream.
The orange-tinted maestro in the White House has threatened tariffs on all things guacamole, while Mexico's president fires back with threats of a national holiday celebrating the taco's right to self-determination. Meanwhile, Canadian negotiators sit in the corner, sipping maple syrup and pretending they didn't just accidentally trade Alberta for a bag of Churros. The clock ticks.
The rhetoric thickens. And somewhere, a lobbyist for the avocado industry is weeping into a tub of salsa. The only certain outcome?
My liver will need a recount from the sheer volume of gin required to make sense of this farce.
