Tennis teams -- Pendejos

Pendejo Envy

We all think Freud was a fool for “penis envy”.  Well, I’ve got a similar theory about the other side of the taint.

I’ve lost count of the Pendejos I know in Tucson.  It’s become a label for about a dozen middle-aged men (and a maybe a couple of women) — most of whom play tennis.  They all flip shit like impossible meat at Burger King.

Membership in the group varies. Some get in by joining one of the fucked-up tennis teams in the USTA leagues.  Some just do road trips,  or temporarily join the LJBTC Community.

Those trips are half-assed planned by Goat-fucking Geno and Pussy Joe.  Those two fucking idiots think they are leaders of the Pendejos. They are not.

Pendejos cannot be led — they can only be manipulated by booze, weed and free meat.

Meatapalooza is planned by the soft-spoken Shub.  That man is a confusing mix of India, Brazil, and Wolverine — as in University of Michigan. He’s a quiet talker — until the third  shot — then he shouts like a stoned preacher spouting lyrics from death metal bands at a tent revival.

Shub started the What’s App chat room. That gave him the power of the invite.  Denying it is a true sign of wisdom.

In theory, Shub controls the Meatapoolza invite too. But everyone with a penis gets in. Denying Meatapalooza just means you are a half-vegan pussy.

Pendejo leadership and membership has become an issue, because someone new wants in.  We think.


Pendejos are like the sea lions in La Jolla.  They are loud as hell and smell like shit.  To become one you just need to lay your fat ass on a rock and bitch about everyone around you.

No one has ever hinted that they want to be a Pendejo before.

Playwrite from La Jolla

But an anxious, desperate, player with the self-esteem of a playwrite from La Jolla has been hinting — hard.

First, Stephen made the mistake of connecting with Joe and Geno.  Then he helped arrange a Pendejo-only trip to LJBTC last October.  We poisoned the beach players with the blasphamy of 4×4 tennis, broke all the rules about music on court, and stole firewood and burned it out on the beach after midnight until we all passed out from the tequilla. 

Stephen stupidly invited us back.

This past month, he hosted me and the Bear. She loves the beach, and will go back every chance she gets.

“She’s now a legend,” Stephen said.  “With her margs and wing dip, she was the talk of the LJBTC.” (Not sure how I feel about that, but maybe a licensed therapist or pornhub can help me work through changing “spousal sexuality“…)

Next week Joe and Geno are turning LJBTC too.  This will be the true test.

“He wants to be a Pendejo so bad,” Geno said of Stephen. “You can just tell it’s killing him.”

For his part, Stephen has a clear-eyed picture of these Pendejos.

“It’s amazing Joe and Geno are friends,” Stephen said. “Neither one of them listens — they just talk.”

Stephen and I agreed their babble is aggravatingly pointless, stupidly repetitive and frequently unfunny.

There’s never an awkward pause they will not fill. Any chance at quiet reflection is shattered with a canned joke about fucking goats, a challenge over margarita making or a personal story that will NOT end in a punch line.

Shit talk for the soul

But like the rest of the Pendejos, they can be fun.  Drinking and hanging with all the Pendejos is good for the soul. It’s a renewal of humanity and humility.

If you feel powerful, or confident, or sad, or stressed, or depressed, spend a few days with the Pendejos.  Beyond the pointless banter, the endless silly competition and the onslaught of insults, it will restore balance to your force better than a million dollar spa.

“I’ve never seen anybody talk shit as much as you guys talk shit,” Stephen may have said (I’m not doing exact quotes for this Bullshit).

For my part, they are the first group of “friends” that will put up with the accurate descriptions I type.  Tried similar stories with my family back in the 80s, and some of them are still all butt-hurt about it.

I was asked to stop, and I didn’t write this kind of bullshit for 30 years.  Then I said “fuck it”, my family don’t need to know.

God knows the Bear and Boy will get into non-existent heaven for their patience.  But these Pendejos seem to love it.

In my third rant, I called Joe a “quater-cookie-eating, little, fucking pussy.”  He only begged for more. And so do the rest of them.

So yeah, Freud was so fucking wrong when he thought women are envious of penises.  But all people should envy the connection you can get from a collection of true Pendejos.  We all need people who can make us laugh, keep us honest and give us something to look forward to without any pressure, stress or expectations.

And booze — booze is good too.

Full confession — I stole “other side of the taint” from Christopher Titus…  see Amerigeddon on Amazon to fully get the joke.

Ohh, and it helps to know that I believe “pendejo” is Mexican for asshole. I say “I believe”, because I don’t speak Mexican.   I say Mexican, because it’s probably slang that no one understands in Spain — so it can’t be Spanish.

11 replies »

  1. Fucking hilarious. One correction. I have never thought of myself as a “leader” of the pendejos, but I so appreciate the insult 😂. To think I would self-annoint in such a perverse manner would reflect a level of self-humiliation (and self-flatulation) that even I cannot descend to. Thank you. Geno

    Liked by 1 person

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