The crunchy taco. A rare indulgence for myself which I enjoy immensely when the scheduled event of eating occurs. I skimp not on the cheese and sour cream, nor the soy meat with the flavorings that pour forth from the little blue Ortega packet. It is my junk food of choice that takes 4 minutes to make, perfect for those nights on which I just burned 500 calories at the gym and feel like undoing the whole process.I go for a third, because I feel extra self-deprecatory. I bite. I chew. Yummy crunch. Crunch, crunch. And...swallow...and...ow. I apparently didn't chew enough. One, lone triangular piece of crunchy taco shell slowly makes its way down my esophagus, carving "Taco Shell Wuz Here" on the inside of my poor throat.
I hear God say, "That's what you get, fatty".
1 comment:
Now you have to make the tacos suffer...eat another and another. That'll teach them!
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