The whole glossary.
Every word, in one place.

Chilango is what you call someone from Mexico City, and chilango Spanish is how the city talks: fast, stacked with diminutives, full of slang and Nahuatl, with an intonation the rest of Mexico can spot in about four words. Because so much Mexican film and television is made in CDMX, it's also the version most learners meet first without realising it's regional at all.

Same words, different order, different mood. The glossary is A–Z, which is what you want when you've just heard something and need to know what it meant. The words page is newest first, which is what you want when you're browsing with a coffee. Both land on the same full pages.

Some are, plenty aren't. The Real Academia Española covers standard Spanish and a slice of Mexican usage, but living CDMX slang moves faster than any dictionary can update. Mexico's own Academia Mexicana de la Lengua catches more of it. Where a word has a formal definition that's drifted from how the street uses it, the word page says which is which.

Because in Mexican slang the context does most of the work. Madre is the showpiece: depending on the phrase around it, it's an insult, high praise, or a way of saying almost nothing. Words like that get every common sense listed with an example for each, because picking the wrong one is not a small error.

They tell you what kind of thing you're looking at. Slang is one informal word. Expression is a fixed multi-word phrase. Interjection is a reaction — órale, híjole. Dicho is a proverb. Greeting is self-explanatory. Albur is Mexican double-entendre wordplay, and it's the one to read all the way through before experimenting.

Check the tone and safety section — every word page has one. It gives you the register, who you can say it to, and where it goes wrong. Mexican Spanish is unusually context-dependent about this: the same word can be genuine affection between friends and a real insult from a stranger, and nothing about the word itself tells you which.

Use Ctrl+F, or Cmd+F on a Mac. Every published word sits on this one page rather than being split across paginated screens, specifically so your browser's find can reach all of it in one go.

Frequency, mostly. A word earns a page if you'd realistically hear it in Mexico City within a few weeks, or if foreigners keep getting it wrong in an interesting way. Regional curiosities come later. Words that only exist in listicles about Mexican slang don't come at all.

Largely, yes. A good deal of chilango slang is national — güey, chido, and no manches work anywhere in Mexico — and much of it is understood across Latin America thanks to decades of Mexican film and television. The words that genuinely don't travel are marked as regional on their own pages.

A normal Spanish dictionary is still worth having for everything that isn't slang. Where dictionaries fall down is register and timing — one will happily give you a translation of ahorita without mentioning that it rarely means now, which is the only thing about ahorita you actually needed to know. That gap is what these pages are for.

A new word every morning, appearing here the same day it publishes. Nothing is ever removed, so this list only gets longer — and existing entries get quietly updated whenever a reader corrects me.