Day 8: Disease and disappointment.

This gentleman saw neither breakfast nor lunch on the eighth day. Why, you ask? I fell ill. How? I suspect one or more of the following:

(1)  I contracted AIDS from the food court fuckers and it was just now kicking in;

(2)  Tap water toxins had finally gotten the best of me;

(3)  Residual fecal matter likely on that can of Diet Coke had contaminated my blood;

(4)  Scurvy (the most likely option); or

(5)  I contracted a vagabond virus from last night.

Whatever the culprit, I was down for the count for most of Saturday. It wasn't until eve that I emerged from my cocoon to feast on some substandard food and drink.

I had heard quite a bit of ruckus regarding Torchy's Tacos, one of the fifty fucking billion taco joints in the Dallas area. Since Tex-Mex is my trashy weakness, I made the call-- to Torchy's Tacos we went.

Fuck that place.

Oh, the food was fine. In fact, I'll go as far to say that the tacos were some of the best I've had in a while. All of that was spoiled by the thing missing from this picture:

WHERE IS THE BEER? OH, THAT'S RIGHT. THEY DON'T SELL ALCOHOL.

Chipotle sells beer. For fuck's sake, how does someone screw something this easy up? Frankly, I don't care if other locations sell alcohol. The one by me doesn't, so Torchy's gets a big fat fucking F even though the tacos are pretty good.

P.S.

I REALLY WANTED A BEER.