You know what I want right now? Like, right right now or I'll scream?
It's a dumpy rainy bloopy fucking day in New York and I'm cranky and I think the only thing that could totally make me happy right now is a breakfast taco.
Not a regular breakfast taco. All of you who are all "Ooooh Cabana" or "Ooooh Mama Margies" please stop insulting me with the horrible words.
I want a motherfucking breakfast taco from a San Antonio municipal golf course is what I want.
Seriously. There's something nuclear about those. I can't quite explain it. But if you've been there, you know. There's just a certain way a breakfast taco even smells different, tastes thirty times better, when you're eating it on a municipal golf course at seven in the morning and you're already starting to fuck with each other and the day hasn't started yet. That first breakfast taco, sitting greasily in the tin foil, sitting at a picnic table outside the club house or in the golf cart with your foot up.
That's the business. That's what I need right now.
Anyway, like I've been saying
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