Throb: 28th Annual TWEF: Hells yes!

See what’s pumpin’ in ‘Cruces!

G-Fresh, Throb Columnist

September in Las Cruces brings around two great things: The Whole Enchilada Fiesta and rain. But screw the rain - we gots gallons of water underground, so no worries there. What I’m talkin’ about is some fun-ass times, yo! First off, to those newcomers who don’t know what all the hoopla is about, TWEF unites the entire community by bringing them together in a 2-day celebration of greasy grub, jammin’ tunes, smooth rides, and hot gear. About half the population of ‘Cruces shows up at one time or another, giving lots of opportunities to introduce yourself to all the fine folks that call this place home. We met up with a few locals who were excited to tell us how they felt about the whole thing.

Las Cruces’ finest guarding the Giant Turkey Legs booth from throngs of starving festival attendees

“The Whole Enchilada Fiesta is one of the raunchiest, flea infested, pointless fiestas in New Mexico. I wish for once Las Cruces would provide something more cultural where the public can actually feel proud of their city...A bunch of food stands and beer tents is hardly entertaining. Watching all these fat families with their two dozen children...all sagging with their hood rats hanging around their necks..and now there is a charge to this to go inside this dump..Choloville 2008...not me...I’m out!!”, said some local guy.

Another area man shared this with us: “I went for the first time last year (free tickets) and soon realized I was attending every other street fair/festival/community event that circuits around the Southwest. The kettle corn, the snow cones, the cheap plastic crap from China, inflatable castle with a bunch of fat kids jumping inside, the lame announcer, etc etc etc. Nothing original here, yet events like this attract the plebians like a gallon jar of pickles for $2.97.”

“Hey holmes, I’m going this year, ese! Ya’ll white people want to stay home then stay home. I’ll be there with my chick who is knocked up, and her 4 little kids from 3 different fathers. Aye, I’ll be there, sportin’ my tattoos I just got, and maybe get high before I go. Nice.”

And a proud Marine wife said “I, for one, will not be attending just to watch a bunch of thugletts throw gang signs at each other all night.”

“Yea, I’m going to Enchilada Fiesta with my 6 fat cousins and all you white people that wanna stay home stay home and get fat off your Twinkies while waiting for the “Renfair” cuz at least I’m gettin’ fat off of turkey legs, a huge Enchilada, y mi cerveza!!! EWWWWWWWWWWW!!!! Aye aye!!!”

“The WEF is a gangster paradise. Scary for people who are not part of this culture. Beer tent or not there all lots of drunks and drug addicts there. Not worth risking your lives at this fiesta.”

Cabrón, winner of the Baddest Pit Bull contest

Paradise is right on! Some people say we ain’t got no culture here in ‘Cruces, but I be beggin’ to differ! I mean, where else can you go and hang out with 10,000 of your neighbors, walkin’ around gnawing on a savory turkey leg, sippin’ on an icy cold Bud, and representin’ what you stand for? I don’t know who had more more fun – the people or the dogs! Hells yes!

The highlight of the fiesta is when local chef-du-jour, Roberto Estrada - reformed road rage perpetrator - puts together the biggest fuckin’ enchilada in the WORLD! Layers and layers of sun-baked tomato sauce, uncooked curdled cheese, and ass-burnin’ chiles dumped on a big-ass tortilla. Then when the bell rings you rush to the plate and stuff your face! (Now you got to sign a disclosure statement promising not to sue Roberto for food poisoning, but it’s all good!) He got our name into that Guiness Book. That’s something we should all be proud of. Especially when last year we had some competition from those hippies at the Co-op, thinking they could make the world’s biggest organic salad. What a joke, yo! Nobody wanted to eat that green shit and they didn’t even have cheese or bacon.

It was a bit disappointing when they decided to cancel the secondary overflow beer tent, called Crawlin’ in Cruces. Some Mormons were like, “No”, so they just herded all the drinkers into one tent for an evening of frolicking festivity and we took advantage of the lack of space. It was phat! Around the 11th hour some cats started dancin’, but then these other mens were like, “You can’t be movin’ like that here”, and the cats kept movin’, and pretty soon the whole tent was rockin’ and shoutin’! I learned what respect was that night, and I’ll never forget it.