All you need to know about Iberian America

The Doomers & Bloomers of Latin America

It’s a sad day on Earth.

You are stuck inside a Walmart in Mexico City.

Working for 4000 pesos or 200 USD a month.

No benefits.

50 hours a week.

During your commute to work along the metro, you get harassed by people begging for money.

The sight of those less fortunate than you almost brings tears to your eyes.

The man with a missing leg begging for money.

To the woman with a baby in her arms.

Though, as you can read here, you learn that the baby isn’t even hers and she’s using it to gain sympathy for money!

Your faith in humanity goes down even more.

But soon your faith will go down even more!

Once you exit the train and go down the stairs…

A Mexican cop stops you.

El Gordo.

And he demands to see your backpack.

Checks your pockets even.

Takes your phone.

And says to you “you know? There’s been a report of a STOLEN phone in this area. You look like the suspect!”

You beg with him.

“Please, good sir! Please! I don’t have any money on me!”

And you pull out the 79 pesos in your pocket to show that you are poor.

After all, you know he just wants a bribe and is falsely accusing you of a crime, right?

But the corrupt cop isn’t interested in just 79 pesos.

He wants 400.

A 10% of your monthly income!

You beg with him.

And time passes on with each minute.

If this goes on, you’ll soon be late for work!

Maybe fired for your tardiness.

Therefore, in an act of desperation, you say to him “OK, I’ll give you 79 pesos and nude pics my girlfriend sent me!”

The Mexican cop grins “ok, chico.”

You send him the pics.

His grin turns into a frown as he realizes your girlfriend is a fat ugly chick that nobody wants to see naked.

She’s even bald.

But he lets you move on.

At least the 79 pesos will cover his lunch today.

While he deletes the photos from his phone, you hustle along to work.

Only to still find yourself late.

After exiting the metro with a heavy rain to soak you, your boss is displeased at you showing up at 4:05 when your shift starts at 4.

“Jose, you’re fire!” your boss yells out.

You plead with him.

“No, good sir! No! Don’t fire me! My dying mother depends on the money I earn to buy her medicine!” you plead.

 “Fuck off outta here!” the boss yells.

And you walk out sobbing.

Out into the pouring rain that continues.

With no money left in your pockets though…

You ask some gringo you see by the corner who is hanging by a taco stand for 5 pesos to use the metro.

Feeling sorry for your third world conditions, he gives you pity and hands you a 20 peso bill.

Walking away to the metro station, you even hear said gringo talk nicely to his gringo friend about how “cheap it is to live in Mexico!”

Confused by such a declaration, you ignore it and walk along anyhow.

In the metro station, the woman behind the counter checks the 20 peso bill and notes how “it is fake, pendejo!”

After doing a little scratch on it, she believes that it isn’t real.

Though the gringo might’ve not known it was fake, you are sent along your way anyhow.

Back upstairs.

Into the pouring rain.

A long walk back home.

One hour later, you come home only to see your fat girlfriend (who is humble) getting a train ran on her by a group of tough men from Tepito.

And that’s when the memory fades.

You blink.

Realizing you are at home actually.

Reflecting on that painful day you experienced a month ago.

The worst day of your life.

It’s 2 AM.

A look to the side and you see your dog pissing on the couch.

You shake your head.

And take down another bit of tonayan.

All the while listening to the latest Mexican doomer music as you can see here.

A type of music that speaks to your soul.

At least you aren’t alone in the world.

In the Youtube comment section, you see countless men talking of their existence.

Numerous existences that you can relate to.

But this is the last day you seek to relate to such experiences.

As you find yourself continually sobbing to your pitiful existence.

You want to rise up.

No longer be one who relates to doomer music.

But one who relates to bloomer music.

With a life of bloom.

Not doom!

Where you see a bright future.

Tomorrow will be the day that changes everything.

A New Tomorrow of Bloom

After spending many days reading “masculinity” blogs on how to be “a real man”

You are ready!

With a a J P W A V E soundtrack being blasted in your apartment for motivation...

You start your days working out.

Then taking a cold shower with your best heterosexual friend standing behind you to dump ice over your head.

The original ice bucket challenge.

The breakfast of the day includes bacon, eggs and milk.

Plenty of protein.

You soon find yourself full of confidence.

Full of energy.

Good sleep.

Good diet.

And the chicas notice!

Completely unknown women calling you “papi” and throwing their panties at you as you walk outside during the middle of the day.

And your former boss at Walmart?

He was involved in drug trafficking somehow but crossed the wrong person.

Last seen hanging from a bridge in Estado de Mexico.

His wife calling you up “estas despierto?” late at night.

And you soon find yourself, with her connections, to getting your old job back.

But rising through the ranks.

Becoming the new manager of the Walmart in question.

From 4000 pesos a month to 40,000.

It’s not millions but it allows a good life in Mexico.

And as you kick your feet up onto the desk of your new office with a smile on your face greater than what any man could naturally have…

Perhaps because there’s a Cuban secretary underneath the desk sucking you off?

You open the newspaper.

See a picture of the corrupt cop beheaded in Tepito.

And the sound of Mexican bloomer music vibrates throughout the office with the sunshine of life shining down on you from the office window.

A window that gives you a full view of all of Mexico City.

A city that is yours.

A city that you dream becoming the mayor of someday.

With a vision and spirit raging inside you.

The world is yours.

Scarface scene "the world is yours"

Doomer & Bloomer?

What is this silly talk, Matthew?

Of the doomer & bloomer?

It’s a contrast.

As a gringo, I find myself alone sometimes in Mexico City.

Drinking away at night.

With my own mix of brandy and black tea these days.

Sometimes vodka.

Sometimes rum.

Sometimes whiskey.

Now brandy.

I’m sophisticated.

On the days I want to engage with sadness, I put on the doomer side of my soul.

On other days that I want to feel like the star in Saturday Night Fever, I put on the bloomer of my soul.

The doomer and the bloomer.

Both styles of music relatable to the millennials and Gen Zers of the world.

Even those in Latin America!

Which is the larger point of this article outside of the cute little story above…

That there exists “doomer” and “bloomer” music on the interest.

Even to Latinos of Latin America.

The doomer representing sadness, depression and despair.

The bloomer representing all things positive and a hope for the future.

And that’s what I wanted to share with you today but needed to write out a full article so that this has some chance of being ranked in Google somewhere.

What do I want to share?

Latin American doomer and bloomer music!

Here’s what I enjoy below for those who want to enjoy it also.

Depending on if you want to feel suicidally depressed or “I just came in her pussy” blissful….

Here you go!

Enjoy the music below depending on your tastes that vary well might vary by the day.

Leave any comments below in the comment section if you have anything relevant to add.

And follow my Twitter here.

Thanks for reading.

Best regards,


The Doomers of Latin America

The Bloomers of Latin America

PS: As I look up "doomer" and "bloomer" music to share, there's a shit ton of doomer music for quite a few Latin countries. However, it seems like "bloomer" Latin music is much more common from Mexico and Brazil lol. Enjoy!

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