Things I have done/experienced in the last week, none of which I deem enthralling enough to carry the weight of an entire post:
1) Realize that the 24 hour Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market around the corner locks its cash registrars between 11:45 and 12:00 to "count inventory" and a growing line of 20 people trying to buy beer/wine before the midnight cut-off can turn riotous.
2) Laugh because the "Eiffel Tower" in Paris, TX, has a sign asking patrons to not climb on it in English and Spanish, mais pas francais!
3) Succumb to the fact that after weeks of scorching heat vicious enough to inflict a sunburn on my left forearm because I drive north to work around 5 (true story), I need a jacket when the temperature drops to a chilly 84 degrees.
4) Discover, to my amazement, that "speed-walking" is a legitimate Olympic sport and that it can hold my attention for an hour and a half.
5) Learn the difference between "shift" and "shag" in Irish vernacular.
6) Decide that after his role in "Pineapple Express" and "Tropic Thunder," I will seriously consider seeing any movie with Danny McBride. Thug life.
7) Watch so many funny animals videos on Ben's account that when he logs on it recommends such gems as "<3LOL!! FUNNY KITTY! ;)."
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Monday, August 4, 2008
Taco No Beuno
I've been a die hard Taco Beuno fan since the moment a warm, pillowly muchaco touched my lips in the seventh grade. However, my idolatry of this institution ended today.
I stood rocking back and forth on my heels three feet away from the cashier like always. Per usual, my head was cocked upwards, reading the menu I already know by heart, entertaining the fleeting thought of changing my regular order in favor of some new menu rollout item. Strolling up to the counter I recited the order I know by rote, "A Number Three, please, with a Dr. Pepper." After picking up my order I first noticed a change. Tortilla chips, which didn't appear to be fried , littered my Mexi Dips and Chips. I get it. Baked Lays are all the rage. Bureaucrats are banning trans fats and bed wetting left and right. It's posche. But they tasted like shaved cardboard. However, I tried to look on the bright side. Ultimately, they are only a vehicle for the Mexi Dips and their lack of taste is easily ignorable. Also, I knew I woudn't miss the occasionaly order whose chips still had a chunk of gelintious lard attached. I could have handled that. Then I took a bite out of my muchaco. Instead of cheddar, thick, clumsy wisps of American processed cheese sat inside, not melting but rather turning back into the vegatable oil from whence they came. Bleck.
I'm no food critic but I can taste the difference Beuno, and it is SO NOT COOL.
I stood rocking back and forth on my heels three feet away from the cashier like always. Per usual, my head was cocked upwards, reading the menu I already know by heart, entertaining the fleeting thought of changing my regular order in favor of some new menu rollout item. Strolling up to the counter I recited the order I know by rote, "A Number Three, please, with a Dr. Pepper." After picking up my order I first noticed a change. Tortilla chips, which didn't appear to be fried , littered my Mexi Dips and Chips. I get it. Baked Lays are all the rage. Bureaucrats are banning trans fats and bed wetting left and right. It's posche. But they tasted like shaved cardboard. However, I tried to look on the bright side. Ultimately, they are only a vehicle for the Mexi Dips and their lack of taste is easily ignorable. Also, I knew I woudn't miss the occasionaly order whose chips still had a chunk of gelintious lard attached. I could have handled that. Then I took a bite out of my muchaco. Instead of cheddar, thick, clumsy wisps of American processed cheese sat inside, not melting but rather turning back into the vegatable oil from whence they came. Bleck.
I'm no food critic but I can taste the difference Beuno, and it is SO NOT COOL.
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