BROWNSVILLE

If Brownsville were a woman, nobody would screw her.

If Brownsville were a prostitute, she would have to pay her customers.

"That's one ugly bitch," said a visiting businessman who bumped into a Chamber of Commerce flack pimping the city around Market Square. "Is it male or female?"

If Brownsville were a fag, he would be dying of AIDS. As it it, Brownsville is a hideous hag.

Besides the decaying downtown, Brownsville is the barrio capital of the world. No city of its size in the United States has more poverty, more ignorance and more corruption. Not even the river flowing past on its journey to the gulf can cleanse this unholy place.

Filled with chemicals and crap, the Rio Grande River could inspire a Japanese director to film a science fiction flick about monstrous fish slithering out of the filthy waters and attacking pedestrians on Elizabeth Street.

Brownsville is worse than a mangy dog slinking down back alleys in search of scraps. Chunks of fur fall from its body. Nobody can resist booting the poor beast.

Why do humans reside in this cesspool? Because they have learned to chase their plates of shit with pints of piss.

If Brownsville were a vagina, it would be filled with syphilis, gonorrhea and herpes. Pus would ooze from the orifice.

"We are the living dead," said a former mayoral candidate. "Our children are the cockroaches of the world."