Fuego de la Muerte
Sunday, August 26, 2012
It’s late. I’m talking, like 4 am late. You’re probably drunk. Maybe you’re stoned out of your mind. Whatever, we’re not judging. We’re just saying now’s the perfect time for 15th Meal. What? You don’t know about 15th Meal? It’s that meal you eat when you’re severely intoxicated and your brain reverts to some primitive simian thought process that says, “Maybe if I stuff myself with enough food it will sop up whatever poisons appear to be killing me,” so you go apes**t on some tacos only to destroy your throat with tortilla shell shrapnel when you vomit two hours later from alcohol poisoning.
Uh, yeah. Alcohol poisoned you. Yep. That’s what did it.
Anyway, come on down to Fuego De La Muerte and feed your need for something cheesy, beefy, crunchy, spicy, endorsed by Satanists, saucy, munchy, caustic to human tissue, gooey, savory, illegal in 34 countries, salty, porky, and so goddamn hot your ass***e is going to put a gun in its mouth.
THAT’S 15th Meal.
Wear this shirt: While stumbling drunk down to the taco truck outside your apartment.
Don’t wear this shirt: To McDonald’s. They don’t serve Tacos. YET.
This shirt tells the world: “?Donde esta el bano? Mi culo se siente como que se trago un punado de dientes de tiburon.”
We call this color: 100% Grade Brown Beef
Woot
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