When this guy complained over a taco, the owner got realistic with him about what it costs to sell one taco for a dollar and change, especially when you bring credit card charges into it. Sometimes folks have unreasonable demands, and these entitled people need to abandon their nonsense. For a real good one, here's an entitled mom who lashed out when her babysitter got a better job.
tacos
Via Daves Not Here
Can't even taco bout this ungodly level of rude. WTF compels people to do sh*t like this.
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Tacos are supposed to be food for the soul, with every salsa-soaked, spicy, guac-dipped bite a tortilla-wrapped stepping stone on the path to ultimate enlightenment. But nnnoo. This evil, soul-crushing, stomach-turning restaurant had to go and serve up a Barbacoa Taco from the literal pits of hell. Brace yourself, this shit's harrowing.
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How much does your taco cost?
If you're about to say $1, I'm going to stop you right there. It's time to think outside the Bell and invest in a $25,000 taco, ok? The chef at Grand Velas Los Cabos Resort in Mexico City is making a taco that costs $25,000. Now, that's more like it.
Now what goes into a taco of such decadence? What else but a corn tortilla with 24 carat gold flakes in it, along with kobe beef, shrimp, Almas Beluga caviar, black truffle Brie cheese and a salsa made from Morita chiles and civet coffee, a "pricey liquid made from the fermented droppings of a civet which has eaten the berries of a coffee plant," says Yahoo!
If that wasn't enough, they sprinkle gold flakes on top, because that's how people like me eat. However, don't even think about doing a little dine and dash on this guy: You have to put down a $12,500 deposit and stay in the presidential suite to eat it. Enjoy at your own risk.
Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat my third of the day. Yeah, I'm spending $75,000 on tacos today.
And we're back at it again with the weekly platter of our favorite shamelessly slutty tacos. Taco Tuesday is a comfort to the soul, and if anything helps pick up the positive momentum to truck through the Tuesday Blues for that sweet halfway mark we call Hump Day.
Literally though. These tacos were born for this glorious day. Get it?
Well, I'm definitely dual-wielding some uncontrollable drooling and violent stomach growls now, and sh*t, I just had that crazy little thing called a breakfast. But hey, leave it to some slutty tacos to awaken the senses and that mad hunger. The lineup here is absolutely on point, so break out your best imaginary food bib and pretend like you might actually bite into one of these titillating tacos.
And as you are imagining crunching down on these, have a gander at the Terribly Tuesday Puns memes or the funny Tuesday Memes to help you ease on thru the rest of the week.
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Marco Gutierrez, founder of Latinos for Trump, found himself at the center of the hashtag #TacoTrucksOnEveryCorner after comments he made in an MSNBC on Thursday. The Trump surrogate warned of "taco trucks on every corner" as immigration remains unchecked and the internet (or anyone who can appreciate a good taco truck) can't find anything wrong with the idea.
Via wakethejake
Jake Booth was in a coma for 47 days and when he finally woke up he asked for one thing: Taco Bell. For a while that couldn't happen because he had a tracheotomy but now he can eat all the Taco Bell he wants. Jake's family set up a GoFundMe campaign to help pay for the costs of his ongoing recovery.
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Those thieves just really wanted a taco!
Via Imgur
And on today's episode of "Everything Offends Me," a woman is really upset at the message on her kid's Chipotle cup.
Did the cup encourage the child to club baby seals? Set fire to a school? Join ISIS?
Nope. It just had two words that made the mom feel uncomfortable: reproductive sex.
OK, maybe out of context these words seem odd on a Chipotle cup. But not if you know anything about the artist that designed the cup.
The artist, Anthony Doerr, describes the cup like this:
Tattoo Earth's 4.5-billion-year timeline onto your arm, shoulder to fingertip, and your upper arm will get nothing but geologic mayhem: meteorites, magma, acid rain. Life won't begin until your bicep, and from there to your wrist it's all single-celled, oceangoing stuff. Reproductive sex won't show up until your wristwatch, and creatures that are finally big enough to see—tubes and fronds and weird Precambrian plant-animals—will crisscross the back of your hand.Trilobites paddle across your palm; ancient forests grow from your knuckles; dinosaurs wind around the joints at the ends of your fingers. Mammals burrow into your cuticles.
Orangutans, arrowheads, Cleopatra, the names of the stars—they all have to fit on the sliver of fingernail at the end of your longest finger.
So the artwork is an arm showing how the world came to be through evolution. And reproductive sex would only show up around the wrist.
Outrage averted.
