Ad Nauseous: Deathurrito

First off, generic greeting.

Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let’s get down to the meat of the matter.

Hometown.

But we need to decipher what constitutes a “hometown”. If it’s the place one is born into this world, then mine is Albuquerque, NM. If it’s where you grow up and come of age (weird how the age isn’t actually specified, there’s some oblique facts and figures for ya) then my hometown is Big Rapids, MI. If hometown refers to where you currently rest your head between travels and adventures then New York City, NY fits the bill for me.

That’s not to say these places haven’t shaped me. The memories of all these places still impact my views and how I relate with the world at large. Even though I only lived in the southwest for the early years of my life, something still registers about Adobe architecture. Not that I ever lived in an Adobe style home, I still feel a sense of comfort in seeing such a dwelling. Knowing that they exist in the larger world brings solace to the mind.

As the great philosopher Elmo Oxygen said, “I can make sense out of yesterday.  Can you understand the power of that?”

Yes Elmo, I can.

Now remember kids, here at BfD, we’ve adopted a new monetary redistribution system.  As such, this article is pay-per-view, and we’re operating on the honor system. So tip your waitstaff and be sure to send in your pennies to our editor-in-chief TeeCoZee at the Decatur Street Treehouse. (Hey Cozo,  if we want to turn this into an actual money making scheme you should change all the authors of the pay-per-view articles to scottym70… just saying, he can write about not-a-duck for days and we can make bank.)

(insert witty yet demure segue to commercials here)

Now then, let’s bring back a modern day classic installment of analyzing commercials for a proxy of the human condition in this technological wasteland we all inhabit, mostly on an involuntary basis. I recently went to the moving picture house down the block from my dwelling, and saw, in the parlance of the times, a long-timey videogram. The picture itelf was fine, Kevin Spacey can play a mean Nixon, but even more telling of the man’s acting chops is that he can also play a slightly goofy and good-natured Nixon. And Michael Shannon can play a soft-spoken and intense vigilante Elvis. But what stuck in my mind was the ‘meat’ before the main show. Specifically the pink and grey slime that Taco Bell pawns off as delicious meat like flavor nibs.

So The Bell apparently reached out on to the collective stoner mind on the Twitter, and found some grade-A (unlike their ‘beef’) twits that really really wanted Taco Bell to stand for something again and go back to when their menu items had meaning. The first lady, Rebecca, offered to fold up 1,000 paper swans to bring back a burrito that I can only assume is flavored with the tears of the damned. Sweet & salty sorrow. I’m sure Rebecca suffered finger cramps and papercuts, that’s how much she cares about this issue.

Next up, we have Brian, who offered to have a fashion show for Grizzlies. Plot twist, as an up and coming designer, Brian’s chosen medium for his spring fashion line is delicious and practical Salmon. Nothing like being the next Grizzly Man so that your family can dine on Doritos-infused bean dip. Grizzly Men are known to live long and prosper, and then enjoy a long peaceful retirement.

The final person on this divinely inspired crusade is Patrick, who simply puts his fate in the greasy hands of the PR team of TB. I assume their hands are greasy because as employees of TB, they’re required by law to eat tacos during every share holder meeting. What does the crack team at TB cook up for Patrick to lay his claim in doing his part to bring back a Gordito the size of a small child? Near-certain death. In an ill-conceived Evel Knievel ripoff, they strap some explosives on a skateboard with good ol’ Patrick as well. But wait, there’s more! Before his timely death (I’m honestly surprised he made it to adulthood) he’ll be launched through a ring of fire! Just like Johnny Cash sang about, so you know it’ll ring true with the kids.

I for one can’t wait to see the follow up videos, seeing the fruits of these warriors labors.  I’m rooting for all of them (to entertain me with mindless violence and flashy explosions). Just think, when their friends see the obituary, they’ll know these champions went out in a blaze of glory for their passion, cheap ‘Mexican’ cuisine with a crazy junk food twist.

Now that’s what I call ‘Merica.

-Roscoe

Advertisements