¡Dímelo!

Rodriguez charged a young couple across the street, brandishing a sandal over her head. “¡Son las once de la noche y tienen que irse a dormir!”

Yoandri, Miami’s universally detested god of traffic, looked down upon South Florida from his home high on Mount Tropical Park, and sighed dejectedly.

Welcome to Miami. And by “welcome,” I mean “please put a Clorox-soaked bullet in your head and bury yourself in the Everglades,” but we’re all about social tact in South Florida.

He has a wife named Gloria, a three-year-old daughter named Estefani, they’re both in the car, and not a single one of them gives a flying fuck about you.

“I’m so excited to announce our latest collaboration I know you’ll absolutely love!” his voice rose excitedly. “A melding of two fun, tropical brands! Buh, buh, buh,” he waved away several raised hands. “I’m only taking questions at the end. You’re gonna want to hear this.”

She wore jeans, riding boots, two cardigans, and a beanie. It was 75 degrees.

Today we will explore the Swiss army knife of Spanish obscenity, the T-1000 of casual expletives, the most flexible, versatile swear word in the Spanish lexicon: “coño.”

Tens of thousands of screaming Miamians poured out of Downtown skyscrapers in the predawn hours and sprinted toward MacArthur Causeway upon hearing that a flying cockroach was spotted around Bayfront Park.

Miamians fumed over Super Bowl tourists’ unfathomable tendency to obey posted traffic laws. Drivers came to complete halts at stop signs, decelerated in school zones, and most infuriatingly, drove below the speed limit.

A translation of the most common Miami phrases into English.

Bossou desperately tried to warm himself by a fireplace in a nearby ski lodge. He was wet, shivering violently, and very upset.

Alberto Rodriguez (aged 82), grandfather to Susan and Emilio Rodriguez (aged 17 and 22, respectively), confirmed to his progeny this past Thursday that he’d be just as racist next year as during the previous 12 months.