I don't know what's worse, the Batman version or the actual music video for the song.
A Taco Time opened up near our office, and some coworkers wanted to check it out. The chain’s been around for a while, but I’d never heard of the place til this week. And now the name will forever be etched into my small intestines.
“Taco Time!” I excitedly yelled as we climbed into the car at lunch time. “Taco Time for everybody.”
Couldn't be helped: it's a fun, catchy name that features two of my favorite words ... Well, one of my favorite words, TACO. TIME is a mildly depressing word actually - but teamed up with TACO, it conjures images of a lively fiesta featuring dancing pinatas, prancing mariachis and seasoned ground beef.
The first sign that something would go wrong was when I looked at other people’s trays while I was waiting in line and saw tater tots. Tater tots in a Mexican joint? The Taco Time menu tried to hide this perversion by calling them Mexi-Fries. They should have named them Mexi-Lies. Somehow these guys managed to venture into a dark place where even Taco Bell wouldn't go.
Despite the early warning signs, I ordered four tacos. Holy shit. As Ron Burgundy would've said: I immediately regret this decision! It tasted as if they’d poured thick, raw sewage into the taco shells and sprinkled it with lettuce, tomato and cheese. My innards felt like a clogged gutter.
Luckily and surprisingly, I didn't suffer a "Taco Time" when I got back to the office. I will always love tacos, but Taco Time will occasionally give me night terrors.
It’s amazing how you always take the skin on your thumb for granted until a chunk of it is gone. Especially when you’re washing your hands or vigorously rubbing it into a slice of lemon. I miss you, thumb knuckle skin. I miss you so much it stings like a bitch.
This was one of those mystery scrapes. Ever get one of those surprise cuts or scratches? You look down, see blood or a flap of hanging skin, and wonder, "How the fuck did that happen?" And then you blog about it like a moron.