#tactical tacos hot sauce

[harveythewendigo]

You know the what!

I'm going to go ramble and by the end see how many hashtags I can legitimately shove on it. I like going on long walking because because it's an excuse to get out and you wouldn't believe what kind of loot you can find in the ditches. I've found a leather baseball, a chewed no trespassing sign and two (unfortunately empty) whiskey bottles hell one time my Papa (That's Italian for grampa) found a pair of stereo speakers in a ditch and he hooked them up to his truck and they worked perfectly fine. I love my Papa though he doesn't hear for shit and when he can hear you he ain't listening. I tell you he drives me and Nana (Italian for grampa) up the walls sometimes. My Nana own chihuahuas she currently has 4 there's Peanut the oldest. I like to call him Smelly because he always stinks. Theirs Pinky she always barks when she hears the door open and she doesn't like my Ma for some reason because of that my Ma likes to call her a witch. And finally there's Daisy and Little man. They're Pinky's pups (I choose Daisy's name) they had an older brother Jojo (Yes like the anime I also picked that name) but Nana decided to give him up because he was too big. I still need to finish watching Jojo's bizarre adventure now that I'm thinking about it and beastars too. I wonder if there's any good pirate anime? I've tried watching One piece but I found it boring. Now that I'm thinking about it I should probably also finish watching Hunter X Hunter God I have a lot of anime I need to finish watching. I've also been thinking what counts as anime? Personally anything that's animated and has a "Anime art style" (You know what I'm talking about) as anime but I understand that other people whould be more selective on what classifies as anime. Man talking about anime has got me thinking about ramen. I love ramen if we had tacos or burgers recently because that means thatI can get fancy and take some of the leftover lettuce, onion and tomato and dice it up into my ramen add some garlic powder, soy sauce, some Louisiana hot sauce, crackers and a fried egg oh BOY that's some good eating I tell you what. Speaking of Louisiana hot sauce there's apparently more than one type of Louisiana hot sauce. I like the kind with the yellow label but apparently there's one that seasoned or something it has a deferent labe and it tastes alright I guess. Speaking of hot sauce besides Louisiana I also like Sriracha sauce. I use them for different things. I use Louisiana for things like ramen and chili while I use Sriracha for tacos and burritos. Speaking of tacos and burritos I don't like hardshell tacos they're too messy and soft shell tacos are just an unwrapped burrito. Man I'm getting hungry I think after I, done writing this imma get a midnight snack. Probably a ham and cheese sandwich with mustard and mayo. Speaking of mayo I don't understand why people don't like miracle whip it's delicious and better than regular mayo but my Nana don't like it and only buys it because me and Papa like it. Although I like a lot of things because I've never been a picky eater hell I loved to eat vegetables when I was a kid and I still do. Coleslaw specifically the kind my Mom makes that I wouldn't eat even if you pay me to. I used to think that I didn't like it until last month when my a Nana convinced me to eat some of her slaw and I found out that the reason I hated coleslaw was because my Ma whould put sugar in it. I need to stop talking about food now it's making me more hungry. Um... Oh! I've recently been playing a game called "Epic battle fantasy 4" on new grounds. I remember ebf3 when I was younger; that game was my first introduction to RPGs and to the concept of gun swords. And is probably the only game series where you can say "I had my big tottie mage charm my Nazi so his tactical nuke dose more damage against the bees." And have it make sense in the context of the game. Oh. Apparently I've reached the character limit. Oh well I was running out of ideas anyway. :/

[luxebeat]

Super Bowl 2021: Cassie's Keto Cavalcade

Super Bowl 2021: Cassie’s Keto Cavalcade

I know what you’re thinking. “Whoa…this witchy chick likes football? Likes team sports in general? That doesn’t fit the spiritually minded stereotype!” I like to think that “breaking the mold” is my default setting, and yeah, that works here.  I LOVE the Super Bowl. I’m a huge football fan! Well before I understood how the game was played, I knew it was my kind of sport. Imagine adolescent…

[squidprinceofwinterfell]

Stick of Truth Commentary

Intro

Intro cut scene is a nice touch! The animation is nice, and it adds story and stakes to the game the boys are playing. Reminds me of “Lord of the Rings.”

I like how the boys see the stick as a golden staff, but it’s literally just…a stick.

Create your character

Fighter, Mage, Thief, Jew – which is the best and why?

Intro to New Kid and family

Dialogue between parents creates an ominous backstory. Who is looking for New Kid and why?

New Kid is a mute weirdo and I love it.

The first quest (making friends) reminds me of “The Sandlot.”

The shitting feature is awesome.

New Kid meets Butters and is brought to KKK

What exactly is the power of diabetes?

Chekov’s Clyde!

It’s cute how cool everyone is with Princess Kenny.

I like that every player is called Douchebag, but I wish every player didn’t have to play as a boy.

Elves attack

Funny how Cartman’s alarm is just Butters yelling “Alarm!”

Cartman has pretty good commentary when New Kid is fighting. I actually miss that later on.

How did the elves snag the stick? Either Clyde is a bad watchdog or Kyle is super strategic. I choose both.

New Kid must find Token, Tweek, and Craig

Token

I never knew Token was so rich that he had security! It’s probably to keep Cartman out.

I love that Token’s property is calling Dark Meadows.

Token: “The elves took the stick again?” Haha!

Tweek

Tweek is the only employee at Tweek Bros.? That’s called child labor!

I love that Mrs. McCormick thinks the meth heads in her garage are just nice renters. Is she being paid in meth?

Why would a 10-year-old boy be an undercover cop? Only in South Park.

Tweek was totally named after the word “tweeker.”

Craig

Craig is in detention for (of course) flipping off the principal. Is Principal Victoria still principal at this point?

Craig’s alias is Feldspar the Thief? I refuse to believe this isn’t a reference to Malcolm in the Middle.

On the “thief” option at the beginning, Cartman says he’s never seen a white thief before, yet Craig is a thief. Hmm…

“Heeeere they come…I’ll be outta here in ten minutes.” Smug, snarky Craig is the best Craig.

I like that Mackey seems to know he’s in a video game (by referencing the boss fight). It’s very Deadpool.

The Bard

The Inn of the Giggling Donkey is just Jimmy’s house. His living room is convincing as a bar/lounge/hangout.

Twitter = carrier raven

“There once was a maiden from Stonebury Hollow / She didn’t talk much, but boy did she swallow / I had a nice lance that she sat upon / The maiden from Stonebury who was also your mom.” I love Jimmy’s songs!

Butters: “No hurry, Douchebag. The princess is just being raped.” OMG

An elf was jumping on the bed to simulate raping Princess Kenny? The boys are really committed to this game.

Cartman: “Good job, Princess Gone Wild. Double D buddy powers.” Kenny flashing his man boobs is the best distraction tactic.

The Brown Note is Jimmy’s best attack.

“Welcome to the KKK!”

Alien abduction

Cartman’s fart lessons finally come in handy! New Kid’s ass is too strong to be probed.

I love that alien abduction is viewed as just another annoying part of living in South Park.

The guy from the recordings is the hobo hidden onboard, right?

The Nazi zombie hobo is the game’s first instance of the Nazi zombie plot. It tells us that the aliens are responsible for this when the ship crash lands to Earth and green goo gets in the sewer.

New Kid crashed an entire spaceship. He’s kind of a badass. And he gets to keep the alien probe!

The big bad government is involved now to deal with “another UFO crash.” How often does this happen??

Only South Park would try to pass off a UFO as construction of a Taco Bell. And only South Park citizens would believe it.

Recruitment (pt. 1)

All New Kid has to do to get the goth kids to join is put on black clothes. I’m glad to see they still have low standards.

New Kid finally meets Stan and Kyle! I’ve been waiting for this.

According to Kyle, Cartman lied about the stick being stolen and is hiding it. According to Cartman, Kyle is lying because New Kid can’t retrieve the stick if Kyle claims he doesn’t have it. It’s a game of “he said, she said” but I’m inclined to believe Kyle. This is Cartman we’re talking about…

PTA meeting

I’m disappointed no one yelled “Rabble, rabble!” at the PTA meeting.

Is no one else alarmed that Randy lured a young boy into the bathroom alone?

“That’s all you’ve got is a sign? At least crap on a desk or something!” Mr. Garrison is speaking highly of Cartman, I see.

She-Ogre

“Give me back my iPhone, DEMON!” This is an accurate depiction of a brother-sister relationship.

It’s adorable that Stan uses Sparky in battle.

Taco Bell

I love that the big bad government agents are such bad liars that they killed a guy asking about encharidos.

“Goddamn it! I’m so tired of Nazi zombies. It’s so…overused!” Haha!

I’m surprised the adults actually took the bombing threat seriously and weren’t bummed about no Taco Bell.

Recruitment (pt. 2)

The final goth test is DDR?? That’s so conformist.

Once you win the goth kids over, you can recruit them to either Cartman’s side or Kyle’s. I always pick Kyle’s side when I play this. I’ve been itching to betray Cartman since this game started!

South Park Elementary

The huge battle scene takes place at the school because it’s where Cartman supposedly hid the stick. South Park Elementary is busted and makes a great setting for a battle scene. More “Lord of the Rings” vibes!

New Kid’s farts help Kyle’s side get the upper hand. Take that, Cartman!

Another reason choosing Kyle’s side is better: New Kid’s battle against Butters is more impactful because he was New Kid’s first friend. If it was a face off against Stan, it wouldn’t be as emotional.

The final battle gives New Kid one last chance to pick a side. Like Stan says, “I can’t believe this is even a choice.” Kyle vs Cartman is like Chanel vs Walmart.

Yet another reason choosing Kyle’s side is better: Cartman’s farting fire at the end of this fight is one of the best scenes of the whole game.

Clyde

I love the twist where neither Kyle nor Cartman was lying. Clyde really punked the fuck out of everyone.

Kyle is the only one to acknowledge he’s aware of the green goo and how dangerous it is.

Stan: “Clyde, but why?” Cartman: “I banished him to be lost in space and time and now he’s all pissed off.” Haha!

Clyde’s fortress is so badass. I can see the appeal of the dark side.

How the hell does Clyde have control over the Nazi zombies??

I love that Clyde’s power move is keeping his friends out past their bedtimes. The stakes are higher now, but this reminds us this is still a kid’s game…or it started as one.

Underpants gnomes

Gnomes: “The kid is awake! What do we do?” “Oh, fuck, I guess we gotta kill him!” Me problem solving.

Since when do underpants gnomes have warlocks?? I thought they were all failed businessmen.

For some reason, high pitched gnome voices yelling “Oh, fuck!” is really funny to me.

New Kid fighting underneath his giant parents mid-coitus is another iconic fight scene. How many times must New Kid dodge his dad’s ballsack?? The kid is hardcore.

The girls

Kyle convinces everyone to team up against Clyde. I’m continually impressed by Kyle because of his leadership, intellect (he spent all night researching), and open mind (he doesn’t balk at teaming up with the humans or inviting girls to play). I’m totally Team Kyle, if you haven’t noticed.

I love that the girls blindfold New Kid when they bring him to their lair. That’s some Mafia shit.

Annie: “He…doesn’t really talk.” Bebe: “That’s hot!” ME

Sunshine, sparkle, glitter…I wanna talk like this all the time.

Heidi Turner was the two-faced bitch! That’s very Mrs. Cartman of her.

Abortion clinic

New Kid’s abortion doctor is named Dr. Poonlover because of course he is

The big bad government is doing Plan B at the abortion clinic. Clever joke!

Where did Randy get that blonde wig from?? The men in South Park cross-dress so much.

Khloe Kardashian’s aborted fetus as a Nazi zombie is also a legendary fight.

Canada

New Kid didn’t get that his photographer was a pedophile even when he was almost butt naked?? Also, who was that guy who jumps out from behind the boxes?

The layout of Canada is clearly a parody of Pokemon games, right? Either way, I love it. The shitty jpeg videogame look is very Canada.

“They’re like wolves, but they’re dire.”

Getting trained by Terrance and Phillip makes all this back and forth bullshit worth it.

Clyde’s fortress

Of course Cartman butts in when Kyle’s trying to give an inspirational speech. What an attention hog!

It’s funny to me how easily Craig switched to Clyde’s side. Loyalty much??

“I really found myself relating to Clyde’s views about darkness and enslaving the world.” Jesus, Craig!

Cartman’s negative reaction to electricity is a callback to the chip put in his head in Bigger, Longer & Uncut.

“It’s my favorite kid!” WOW, RANDY

“Who could it be?” I love how long New Kid lets them all wonder before he steps up.

Stan: “Dude, that’s not Taco Bell sauce.” Clyde: “Then why’d I find it at the Taco Bell?” A+ logic

How dare you, Clyde! Let Chef rest in peace!

Government interruption

“Whenever aliens are spotted, vampires run amok…” Vampires exist in this universe??

I love that the boys don’t care about the big bad government’s scheme.

So New Kid’s special power is making friends on social media! I should’ve known.

Princess Kenny’s betrayal

Princess Kenny planned to steal the stick all along! This game is full of betrayals.

Kenny makes a pretty cute anime princess. Nazi zombie? Not so much.

Princess Kenny is a badass final boss. And I never saw it coming!

I’m glad the “never fart on someone’s balls” joke meant something in the end. I can see why it was banned – it’s super deadly!

End

The boys unite to save friendship and love…by chucking a stick into a lake.

New Kid stole Cartman’s catchphrase!

Why did Al Gore appear so ominously at the end?? What are you gonna do to the kids, Al Gore??

[jarel-dot-thepoet]

Excuse the typos Character Asks

Character Asks

Choose a character and a question

Characters:

Indy - sorrowful, wealthy writer

Sage - chipper, eccentric barista

Nova - mischievous, astute activist

Charleut - intelligent, sharp lawyer

Claud - sly, wise police officer

Neal - silent,  spontaneous movie director

Lora - sassy, correctional actress

Gray - informational, caring talent agent

Gemini - quirky, strong pet store manager

Havin - easy going, comical interior designer 

Gwen - shy, analytical banker

Patches - innocent, wild real estate agent

Doc - practical, blunt attorney

Harry - self-absorbed, glutton realtor

Loa - logical, stringent automotive engineer

Chief - philosophical, misunderstood politician

Jack - gentle, follower gardener

Deuce - mysterious, leader chemist

Roy - lying, nerdy bandmate 

Olivia - serving, fiery housemaid

Consuela - altruistic  firm casino co-owner

Constance - powerful, creepy casino co-owner

Joy - perky, pragmatic talent agent

Mrs. Feathersby - grandmotherly, assertive cafe owner

Dr. Whyte - optimistic, spiritual surgeon

Jensen - passive, generous nurse

Angeliica - feminist, tactical nurse

Stone - unexpected, remorseless police officer

Atticus - conversationalist, innocent bartender

Admiral - disciplined, sexually busy retired  veteran

Mr. Peru - soundful, pacifist butler

Daz - impervious, 

Fighting urges horned up searching for meaning feeling breathing living God please forgive these flesh feelings keep dealing me a strain in my pants my brain likes to dance I feel afraid sometimes without Lord I pray your Kingdom come evil need be delivered me from i feel bottom of ocean scum always comes with repercussions dumb didally down fiddling these emotions floating to my head crazed dazed in a hazed Hayes estate

Josiah - trustworthy, there landscaper

Doctor Profit - heartless, gassy teacher * Waiting is a new covenant, so wait patiently and you will see the return of Jesus Christ. * The killer of Casanova Hayes * the unexpected english teacher witha bold moustache piercing blue eyes takes brown skin elegant afro hair nice smile a kind voice whispering elegance peaceful harmonies bird talking chest as proud as the cockatoo merciful tattoos of kazoos and coconuts lustful legs that stood high enough to see the tempest shelf in southern creek high water soloist for sure team player and dauntful 

Dawn Delaware fifth sister  the child Karen Delaware was pregnant when she disappeared that hot day in Australia critic to town if Ostrasizer England smokes cigars piercing red eyes devilish tongue fierce brutality of the hands southpaws swearer of Osvits Germany ta I want to thank you for being my son my Lord my savior my grace mercy My Redeemer what treasure my everything my all amen

George Carl Bigsby - judgmental, prejudice grocery store owner

Z'riya Turner - affable, southern comfort Mexican store owner

Ashlee | Hectic - smarter than you, has to be right confidently beautiful curves radio talk show host producer

Lefwhich Greenfield - destined Turner of the turntables championship Dr. Profits twin cousin cornball hornball 

Nessie - grits thrower, angsty photographer

What do you do for a living 

Where's your money go most on

Least on

Where do kids come from 5 year old answer

Topic of the day

Wheres your worst kiss from

Best kiss

Who saw you running naked that one day down the street

Is the cat out if the bag secret bonus

Sandwich ir taco

Spaghetti or hamburger

Waffles or pancakes

Listen to music on low listen on high

Destined to live destined to die

Whi gets to watch what they want you or your spouse nobody who wins the argument

Do stacks stack best left to right or right to left

If I were atop a mountain and u wanted you to hold me would you cry ir ask why

If a donkey had a really bad smell but a really great smile would you hug it

Can you kiss an elephant and remember it

What causes reflections looking within or without

Do stalls needto he further apart or many more single bathrooms

West coast hemisphere easy coast hemisphere

If you could live anywhere and why

 Rigamortus would you prefer the body seen or sunseen

Truth be told what's your worst secret

Truth be told who do you live the most

Marry me yes or no after three years

Do the stanky leg or the waltz

Fishing or bowling 

Dog sitting or cat sitting

Miscues or misshapes

Music or reading

What do you di when you first wake up

Is there anything to wear in here jeams or slacks for gals dresses or pants

Austin texas or Atlanta georgia

Fila or fubu

Red wine or white wine

Questions or answers

Chess or checkers

Pig or cow

People watching or tv watching

Yes person or no person

Balanced or imbalanced

Perfect or flawed

Half full or half empty

Shark or lion

Chicken or egg

Basketball or football

Softball or baseball

Soccer or rugby

Do you stand tall or stand with a hunch

Breathe in breathe out ornbreathe out breathe in

Angry or happy

Sad or content

Joyful or hateful

Peace through war war through peace or peace through peace

Victory or fail

Thumbs up or thumbs down

Do you talk more or listen more

Effortless or thoughtful 

Faithful or hardship

Constipation or diarrhea

Jokester or serious

Golf or nascar

Do you believe in ghosts

Do you believe in werewolves

Do you believe in God

Flying ir driving 

Stay at family's house for the holidays or at a hotel

Do you walk in with confidence or doubt 

Day person or night person

Early to bed early to rise ir stay up late and ahh *stretches* after 12 pm

Wake up with a hangover dude I cant believe we did that or dude I cant believe we did that!

Lefty or righty

Sauce mixed in with the meat or sauce mixed in with the noodles

Bacon cordon bleu or bacon and eggs

Fitzgerald Jones or Fitzgerald Hawkins

What day do you clean your house

Check mail now when you come from home or later

Dinosaurs did they exist

If we could meet a celebrity who would it be

Why them

Where would we go

If we could meet Jesus without dying what would you say to Him

Why

Beach or mountain

Fiasco or calm

Tupac or biggie

Elton John or Michael Bolton

Lois and Clark or lois and clark Kent

venice or Rome

How much would could a woodchuck chuck

If your brothers  dad died and your brother was left alone what would you say

Earthquake or sandstorm

Hurricane or fire 

Get shot or get stabbed

Art or home economics

Understanding or pigheaded

Left alone or social butterfly

Apples or bananas

[knightofaedirn]

Called Home

((I wrote a thing. It got longer than anticipated. Whoops.))

At all outward appearances, it seemed like just another lazy afternoon in Orgrimmar. The blazing sun of Durotar angled itself just above the great red rocks of the canyon, giving the patrolling trooper just enough hope that it would slip behind the rocks and drench them in shade for the rest of their time monitoring their post before too long. The air was filled with the scent of red meat cooked right off the bone from the drag, the mess sergeants preparing for the dinner that so many Grunts would be seeking as soon as the next shift of Grunts arrived to replace the weary guardsmen.

The great drums hammered away a steady beat to sound off the time. *One* *Two* *Three*. Three drum beats. Three in the afternoon, Kolab told himself from where he had stopped dead in his tracks and turned his attention toward the direction of the noise. The Grunt always struggled to hear the drums. He struggled to hear anything. Years of using rifles, shotguns, more recently the Goblin constructed grenades had left the Orc’s hearing about as sharp as a wooden sword. Hence why he hit the brakes, the Orc’s measured step coming to an abrupt halt from where he stood on the skyway, within the shade of the massive iron structures that served as the landing sites for the Zeppelins.

Three drums. For anyone else it may have meant nothing but yet another interval between lunch and dinner. Mid day and darkness. But to this Warsong Orc, it meant freedom. Freedom not in the sense of the striking of three drums somehow releasing the Orc from actual or metaphorical captivity. That sounded like some sort of tall tale spun by a bard. Nor did it mean freedom as in the Orc having the freedom to go off and piss off the edge of the skyway. Not THIS time at least. Ohh no. What those drums heralded for Kolab was the exact time he’d been authorized to return to barracks and prepare for moving out back to the home of his clan, Warsong Gulch.

There was no better for Warsong Orcs to be called home. The years had not been kind to the warriors beneath the black banner with its white, laughing face. Chieftain Hellscream’s noble sacrifice had saved his people, but it had been the catalyst to years of misfortune for the Warsong Clan as a whole. The Warsong Offensive, Warchief Hellscream’s call to arms in the Barrens for the Warsong during the civil war, Night Elven aggression eventually having lead to the Warsong being forced to withdraw from the Gulch and Mor’shan Rampart itself. Year after year tested the words inscribed on Chieftain Hellscream’s grave ‘May the Warsong never fade.’

Yet, the fate of the Warsong was not to fade away. Not with, as far as Kolab could tell, was the beginning of a great and glorious war. He’d not been part of the Horde war machine that had been led by Saurfang and the Warchief itself that drove straight into the heart of Ashenvale and threw the Night Elven aggressors back into their dark, cursed lands to the North. Let them have their damp shores and spooky trees. Let them build sand castles until the end of time. That is what Kolab assumed would happen at least. The Horde securing the forest, and containing the Night Elves to their own lands. That, too, was not what fate had in store.

He’d heard about the destruction of the Night Elves tree. The feeling around Orgrimmar was torn between exhilaration about the destruction of the Night Elves capital on one side, and the other side protesting the murder of so many innocents left inside the city by flame. What was he to feel about it? Well. He’d put the thought out of his mind. His duty as an Orgrimmar Grunt was to safeguard the city itself and its people. The philosophical thoughts over how war was raged was not his concern. For what did the thoughts of a single trooper mean in this grand Horde army? It was like trying to get the opinion of a single drop of water from the sea. Or from a single bean in the pork and beans he’d had for lunch. Yum. At least, that is what Kolab told himself.

Not long after that tree had gone up like a tinderbox, word had reached the barracks that the Undercity was under siege by the Alliance. Well, isn't that interesting. That was the beginning and the end of Kolab’s thoughts on the manner. His worry was on exactly how hot it was going to be in Orgrimmar that day while on patrol. As well as the summons he’d received that all Warsong Outriders were called home. Ashenvale was theirs for the taking. The beacon of hope for the Warsong was lit by the fire of Alliance homes. This was the best chance the Warsong had to carve out a permanent place of their own in the Gulch. Now, that, was something that occupied the mind of the Orc.

Three drums. Three in the afternoon. That was when he’d been approved to prepare to disembark for Warsong Gulch. It would not take long. Gather up what little he would need, retrieve his wolf from the stable, and head for the side gate and bridge that would take him over the Southfury river. With any luck he’d make it to Ashenvale by nightfall.

One Hour Later

Alright, it had taken slightly LONGER than Kolab anticipated to gather up his supplies. Was it because he’d stopped at the taco cart in the Valley of Honor...three times...and one more to get sauce? PREPOSTEROUS! That hadn’t taken any time at all. The half hour in the outhouse afterword did. But that was behind him! He’d managed to fill his riding bag with snacks, ammunition and even a copy of ‘Wyvern Fancy’ that only smelled a bit funny. Hey now. Needed to pass the time in the outhouse somehow. Supplies...check. Weapon...check. Warsong tabard… Kolab looked down at the fading black and white Warsong tabard, having been folded for so long the creases in the linen could still be seen. Check!

Exiting the bank, the sun had slipped behind the great red rocks of the mountains. Good. Nothing beat a ride through the Barrens with the afternoon sun on your back. Speaking of...he needed to visit the stables. With pep in that Orcish step, he set off towards the stables at the opposite end of the valley. Excitement filled the Orc. He was about to return to the land of his clan. What greater joy was there to be-...”This should be enough for supplies. I think.” Came a raspy voice outside the auction house. The voice was so out of place it forced the Orc to stop on a dime at once and seek out the source of it. There, by the steps, stood two Forsaken. Conversing with one another. Ragged clothes rung to their bodies, paired with an expression, from what Kolab assumed, was one of bewilderment. Of shock. The face he’d seen on other refugees who had arrived to the city after losing their homes, family members, everything.

Now that was...strange. Kolab thought as he continued the march back up toward the stables. What would Forsaken refugees be doing here? Did it have something to do with the Undercity being out under siege? Pah. Of course they could hold their own. The Warchief was a fierce fighter it was said. The Forsaken knew how to defend their own city, and with support form the Horde their homeland would never fall. Perhaps they had just been evacuated to keep the civilian population safe. Yes. That made the most sense.

Thirty Minutes Later

With worg saddled, fed and watered, nothing stood in the way of this Warsong Outrider. Not even peculiarities such as having seen those Forsaken refugees. Not even another stop to the outhouse. Those tacos truly were Goblin made. Because they blew out your ass. Yep. Now all there was to do was lead his wolf by the reins off toward the side gate of Orgrimmar from the Valley of Honor. One final tour of the city did seem fitting after the years he’d been here as a Grunt. He knew the city like the back of his hand after backhanding some pickpocket for stealing a sweet roll. Yum.

Down the hill, past the place he’d seen the two Forsaken, who had now wandered off somewhere else, and off towards the Drag. Here, in the intersection between the two valleys through the iron tunnel, more Forsaken were spotted. This time a group of tree. All looking just as ragged, as devastated at the ones he’d seen previously. Five Forsaken whose homes were destroyed? Hmm. Perhaps the Alliance had attacked Tirisfal as a whole. Those were Alliance tactics. Burn the homes of the population after they failed to breach the walls of their objective. Cowardly. But, it was no matter. He was already running late and the ride would be long.

Kolab’s pace steadily became slower and slower as he spotted more and more Forsaken the further into the Valley of Strength he ventured. Entrie groups there were now. Something was not right. This many should not have lost their homes to an Alliance assault. Not to mention a sense of...dread hung in the air. He read it on the faces of passing Grunts. Troopers he served alongside for years. Those subtle cues on their faces, as well as in how rigid their held their stance said all. There was danger in the air. Worse yet, it was not from the anticipation of glorious battle to be had.

Curiosity, as well as that growing unease beckoned Kolab up the elevator shaft back to the skyway, and across the bridges that led to the top of the canyon, and the main gates. There was a flurry of activity in that direction he could see. Strange, massive bat-like creatures were landing on the ramparts. The fact the drums were not sounded to announce an attack told the Orc they must have been on the side of the Horde. This was more alarming than if they were the enemy. The enemy he knew how to respond to. This left the Grunt with that deepening pit in his stomach. Yet feet carried him forward across the dusty trail to the ramparts.

Fifteen Minutes Later

Digestion of the situation occurred as swiftly as it had with those tacos earlier. Both had left him with a sick feeling. At least this time he’d not sought out the outhouse. No, no. There was aid to be rendered to this throng of Forsaken refugees, injured Horde warriors who were still arriving on the ramparts and taken to the makeshift shelters to be tended to by medics. Of what few supplies had been taken from the Undercity as, from what he’d been told, had been destroyed. Exactly how had been left out. That mattered little. Not when Horde citizens were now taking the blunt of such a blow. All made sense now. The Forsaken he’d seen in the city below. The crippling poverty they found themselves in now. The bottom had been taken out from them without even a place to call home. No. That was not true. Orgrimmar was to be called home for them now. As well as for a certain Orgrimmar Grunt whose travel plans had been abruptly changed from an afternoon ride across the Barrens to rendering aid to these people in need. After all, this place was called home.

[leaveharmony]

Hogwarts Foeyay: A History

Because the box marked coping mechanisms / self care is empty save for a napkin with “hyperfixate on nonsense” scribbled on it, ‘cos @breadclubrising​ suggested once I redo it in post form, and because I've been meaning to anyway. 

Why do I ship Shinsuke & Tana*, by T’Sora, age 5.

*(OBVIOUSLY I mean in kayfabe**)

**(although tbh the statements “No of course they’ve never had that kind of relationship in actuality” and “Yeah they were at it like rabbits” would cause in me the exact same lack of surprise.  It’s my only wresting ship tbh but this canoe paddles itself)

The first time I saw Tana, I thought he was a heel.  A perfect storm of complete ignorance of New Japan and blind love for Shinsuke resulted in my assumption that he was a beloved babyface, and therefore anyone fighting him was by default a heel; this ignoring the fact that I'd watched him use blatant heel tactics against Ibushi mere minutes before, and swat Red Shoes aside like an irritating mosquito, besides.  I forget what specific match it was but it was definitely a multi-man tag.  I know for certain Yujiro was in it, because the Tanahashi / Takahashi problem had me distracted for most of the match, with a further YOSHI-HASHI complication thrown in for good measure.  YOSHI's was the first name I learned, which may go some way towards explaining my unwavering love for Tacos.  If I recall rightly, I solved it with TaNahashi, Not in CHAOS, TaKahashi, CHAOS but spelled wrong. (or right, depending on how much fearless leader'd had to drink that day)

But I digress. Tana had the Intercontinental title, which was clearly Shinsuke's belt, and my first read on the situation was that he must be a jerk, and they probably hated each other.  We all of us sometimes make mistakes.  -_-

I think it was the pre-WK8 VTR that caused me to reassess this conclusion...I used to watch anything I could find in a frantic attempt to play catch-up and learn everything there was to learn. 

(it ends with this, because blowing kisses at your rival is definitely a thing people do)

It of course included some scenes from what I affectionately call the ‘Wrestleprom invitation,’ which reads less like a mocking challenge to a mortal enemy and more like a flirtatious dare which would have started with “What are you wearing?” if it was a late-night phonecall.

Key moments: When Shinsuke, all fired up after his title defense & having laid out an invitation to the ring sees that Tana is on his way down the aisle, lets loose a radiant smile that could have powered a continent for about half a year:

When Tana comes out with his lips puckered in what he probably meant to be a skeptical or cautious way but just hilariously makes it look like he thinks a dip-kiss is a forgone conclusion to this encounter

This fucking exchange of expressions.  This is like...a time-stop, right here.  Everybody comes in footloose and fancy free until they stop avoiding eye contact; when they stop looking at beruto and start looking at each-other, this happens.  Shinsuke's tone goes from cocky to soft, his face goes from arrogant to almost tender.   Tana's apparently so thrown by the sudden shift in mood  that he, the Ace of New Japan, can't handle the intensity of the look on Shinsuke's face and actually drops his gaze for a few seconds.  Not, looking off to the side or looking at the crowd, the camera, the title...not an act of defiance or gesture of indifference, but something like a flicker of momentary vulnerability or uncertainty.  Like it's painful or overwhelming for some reason and he involuntarily shows this, which is just...for someone as poised as Tana who probably started perfecting his facial expressions in the mirror at age 13, is almost startling.

When Tana recovers himself after being momentarily wrong-footed, and makes Shinsuke PAY for that half-second loss of control with a torturous wait for him to actually speak.  Shinsuke, ham that he is, runs through about 18 different facial variations of "Oh please oh please oh please please please" even while he looks like he's trying not to laugh at the way Tana's toying with him.

Tana's opening gambit and Shinsuke's immediate reaction to it: “It's been a while.”

After that everything reverts back to normal, with Tana being a dork and Shinsuke being a dork right back, and it's a date.

In the same VTR, iirc the first thing Tana says is to call them “Rivals,” but something about the way he smiles when he says it made me laugh and think “Ohhhhhh - it's rivals with quotation marks.”

Of course it didn't take me long to run into what has become my favourite match: the G1 Climax 25 final.

Which had

Its share

Of moments

That may

Have contributed

To shipping them.

I know I talk about this every single time but the bit where Shinsuke raises Tana's hand only after Tana's taken two steps forward because he thinks they're going to hug and the subsequent grumpy look on his face when Shinsuke swerves him is forever hilarious to me.

Of course as I became more familiar with everything I learned they were once a tag team, and lost my entire shit about it.  I've only found a few matches from that time (the most fun of which was the match from Mexico where they won one fall by pinning the guy together).

But there are a fair number of absolutely fucking quality pictures of their Mexican excursion which in the right viewing order absolutely makes them look like newlyweds on honeymoon.

Probably some of the dynamic stems from them + Shibata having been slated as the new “Three Musketeers,” only for Shibata to fuck off & leave them as two people shouldering a burden rather than three, in the middle of a difficult time and with the future anything but assured.  

There's literally a whole book about them - which I can't yet actually read without some considerable effort over like, at least a year (it's in the to-read pile but so are four of Shinsuke's books and one of Tana's).  Probably for reasons of Vince Owns His Soul Now Shinsuke didn't do a lot of hyping for it so it fell to Tana, who, roughly translated, offered this gem about their relationship: “If I'm the sun, Shinsuke is like the moon.  Even if one of us is gone, there's no New Japan without Tanahashi and Nakamura.”

Verbally, most things come from Tana.  Calling Shinsuke ‘a good-looking guy,’ talking about being ‘lonely’ without Shinsuke & hoping they'll ‘meet again someday,’ because ‘surely, this can’t be it,’ referring to the Intercontinental title as his ‘lifeline’ (and chasing it so hard, and shouting-out with Shinsuke's signature gesture when he won it, and refusing to tap out & lose it even up to the point of injury & referee stoppage).  When talking about them, Tana almost always uses ‘ 二人’ which means two people but also means ‘couple’ - one of the few words I had actually retained from a first aborted attempt to learn the language, because of a line in a Gackt song which was....not platonic in tone or meaning.  Or I’d think I was tinhatting.  Tana definitely sees them as a matched & indivisible pair, though, regardless of context.

Shinsuke's cues are both more and less subtle, as he rarely says anything on the subject but often does things like this

And this

And this

And this

And this

And this

And this

And this

And this

And this

When interacting with or talking about his....rival.

“Rival”

This is how he chose to finally look at him during the press conference for G1 24, little sigh and all.

I suppose the really painful smoking gun is the part I hate most.  If Tana's grumpy face after G1 25 suggested “What's a guy gotta do to get a Moment around here?!” than the answer was, “Lose his other half forever, maybe.” Because the last match is like being stabbed 47 times in the heart with a dull spork and then rolling around in hot sauce & vinegar.  For lots of reasons!  But extra-specially because of all their interactions. The crowd, first off, literally boos Goto for inserting himself into the Moment & delaying their face-off.   Which is....charged, when it comes.

The best and worst thing Kenny has ever done was walk out into this sea of emotion and try to make it about him.  I remember actually yelling curses at the screen as soon as I heard his voice (while still sobbing uncontrollably), because how fucking dare he, who the fuck does he think he is to imagine himself important or even significant in this moment if all moments? But it wasn't...about...Kenny.  It was a quiet little stroke of genius, Kenny could have been anything or anyone, he was a non-entity and a means to an end; he was there for no other reason than to be an irritating twit yammering nonsense at the most important person in the building.   Because as soon as he started, this happened.

A man being Once Again ditched by someone who ought to be holding up a share of the burden reacted not with hostility towards his departing rival, but in his defense. Shinsuke, as soon as Tana literally placed himself between them gets this brilliant “Well, holy shit.” look on his face. 

And Tana, reading Kenny the riot act, finally gets his Moment.

Which I think I may have found pictures of from every angle in Korakuen by now

(I'd just like to shout-out in appreciation of the frozen rictus on Kenny's face, which is very articulately saying “This is the gayest shit I've ever seen, and I literally told a member of the press I was gonna marry my tag partner”)

When the dust settles, we're again left with futari, two people, a couple.  Asked about the scene later, Tana would say that it was the last moments for CHAOS together, too, and he didn't want to distract from that so he pulled away quickly.   “But....I couldn't help but look back one more time at Nakamura.” “"He didn't seem to notice,” the interviewer pointed out. “"No, he didn't notice,” laughed Tana.  “I guess it's unrequited love forever.”

[toddlazarski]

Last Suppers Vol. 5

Shepherd Express

“In this past I long for, I don’t remember how even then I longed for the past.”

— Denis Johnson

In the El Tsunami parking lot in mid-January snow turns tumor-black and gets pushed, in some unholy unseen hour, into jagged triangle wedges up against the brick building, clearing space for the subsequent gray slush and glut of cars and those cars’ passengers, all trying to avoid ice-flecked black puddles and questions of why any of us would live in such an environment so threatening to dry socks. My daughter somehow eschews usually prominent stranger danger notions to cheerily, proactively, greet the panhandler just outside the door, leveling the playing field, at once, for all three of us, erasing discomfiture in smiling unexpectedness, seemingly validating good vibes therein. Inside, nursing a sportscar-red michelada, in a frosty mug of the size and depth and seriousness of an extra in that scene from Indiana Jones, the rim coated by a grainy quilt of spicy salt rendering the straw a silly suggestion, there is a pulse, well aside from the bumping telenovelas on all the TVs. It almost feels like there is a no-sitting rule for children, as they bounce around, between tables, blurring the distinctions between families, pirouetting by waitress trays, skipping and skirting and flaunting even pre-pandemic social graces. Parents look appropriately tired, waitresses overwhelmed, the end-of-week Saturday reward day is aglow, salsa-amped and horchata sugar-lit, even before a wandering mariachi duo wanders in, seemingly at random, as if they were traversing South 13th in the 30-degree day in cowboy hats, with classical guitar and accordion. By the time the oompa of alternating bass line balladry and emotively stretched squeezebox reeds mix—table to table they go, for a palmful or two of cash—with the svelty green table sauce, the ceviche dip, the warm chips, fierce, charcoal-kissed carbon tacos, or greasy smoky housemade chorizo, or oily flaky fish, it is easy and instant to forget what life resembled back in the parking lot. We’ve all, communally, arm-in-arm, with collective vision, forged the perfect escape plan.

At Vanguard, when it’s summer, or spring, or any time when the Packers are not on and it’s not a wrestling night or Halloween, when there’s room for small chat and the usual backdrop—Soul Train, maybe an O.J. Simpson workout video—there is no better feel than happy hour with exactly one open swivel black chair near the end of the bar. Even though the bartenders render me not cool enough, probably too old, far from properly bearded, I will stake a claim, rope off my spot with a hoodie on the back of the seat, like delineating property lines, as close to Manifest Destiny as I might get, sticking out elbows just a bit in subtle “don’t tread on me” histrionics. You can hover, sure, go ahead and take my drink menu, yes, food menu too, fine, oogle away at my curds and beer stein aioli all bloodied with house hot sauce, you can even talk close and ask for suggestions and pat me on the back when you lean over the shoulder to catch the barkeep’s eye. Just let me sit in the middle, in the beating heart, like the front row at a boxing match where part of the excitement is getting hit by a little sweat, like the Stubhub offerings we click just to see, front rows price tags to voyeuristically consider, to think what if? While I’m in, while the place fills to capacity—only now a nightmarish notion—-behind me, I slow-sip and savor a hungry evening bustle and a draft Manhattan, I delay gratification with menu pondering, possibility appreciating, before inevitably tackling a chilli cheese dog, a Velveeta-blanketed and appropriately-named “Durty Burger,” the whole thing a silly gesture of why not gluttonous indulgence, barely leaving room for the IPA I’m always about to order—like some kind of metaphor for the stuffed barroom itself.

These will be my first stops, when we’re all back, fully rubbing elbows, finding space in standing room only occasions. When we can be, what I’ve heard more than a few service industry folks refer to, “nuts to butts.” If and when the unidentifiable health metrics in my heart all check green, these are my buzzing Milwaukee mind spots, of food poetry yammering, of context being an ingredient, of flavor deriving as much from the atmosphere, as much from the flutter of a true peak social experience. I think of an Istanbul market, the group teem, the contrasting currents of crowds lending pick-pocket anxiety, general personal space ruffling, some dangerous enticement to the prevalent smell of roasting, rotating meat; a pizzeria in Naples, needing to engage in mosh pit antics for a spot on the list; Steny’s, for an Eastern Conference Finals Bucks game. The times to eschew ease, embrace struggle, deal with an annoyance for this will be worth it. When all is well, again, when I can cruise the city streets, casually pop in for a taco or four, stop for a beer or beers, such spots are where I might set my aims. Once so small-town, so simple-minded, now the idea of someone handing me a menu is a memory seed I treat and water like the notion of the one that got away. Here are the daydreams I’m afraid to risk, but keep tucked away in some kind of hope chest of sights to get back toward, one day, comfortably, normally, the good food times that come as much from the setting, from the moment, the people.  

And I don’t even really like people.

Another thing I’m not crazy about—outside. And yet, here I am, often these days, and not just because the weather has turned friendly, ironically, as the country seems to burn, standing in my backyard, staring at the stars or the clouds, or the military-hued helicopters, sometimes, waiting for my gut, or my meat thermometer, to tell me it’s time to turn back to the Weber, flip the sausages, burgers. Always aggressively testing the tongs, grabbing at ghosts as they waft, I wistfully wonder how the maestros at Vanguard always avoid the flare-ups, the drying-out, nearly always get it all so right, the snap, one order after another, without looking like they are trying, cool in backwards hat insouciance, even when confronted by an endless stream of hungry scenesters.  

Here I am, too, with makeshift picnics of Foxfire takeout fare, of taco truck tlayudas, cautiously staking a blanket claim or bench at Sheridan Park, its meandering jogging path and sweeping lake vistas leaving space for grass-tabled meals. Or at Humboldt Park, by the grimey pond that might as well be Walden’s, for the existential dread I’ve brought to it these past three months. It seems like a sanctuary of sorts, emblematic of anywhere there is space, really, from headlines, and health metrics, enough of it for nobody to be near enough to be afraid of. But of course there is no one to say gracias to after a salsa refill. There is fresh air, yes. And there is also the fending off of the geese, the dancing around of the geese poop, the chasing of napkins— inherent that any picnic venture provide at least this bit of Charlie Chaplin skit performance—and, inevitably, the throwing out of napkins because they probably touched some geese poop.  

Still, with a double patty Foxfire burger, coated and buffed in salt and love and oozing American goo cheese, or with some foiled-taco steam, anywhere I might end up, today, isn’t so bad. And also, before wasn’t always good. The past is only painted in technicolor ideals in our minds, and especially now. Vanguard was many times just far too crowded, and sometimes, too many times, they forgot to toast my bun. And it felt too loud to even mention. Tsunami, despite my perpetual best efforts and bad dietary habits, has never cared I’m there, that I keep coming back, that I talk about it and write about it and bloviate. Every time I hit the door they almost always collectively look at me as if I’m lost or am about to ask to use the bathroom and then leave. In general, how many restaurant tables are too dirty? How much service is too slow? How many menus are so alike? Oh wow, look, a Southwestern Burger! How many bartenders have that attitude that this next shake of the shaker—no, this one, above the head!—could be the one to cure cancer, and how dare I interrupt or not be appropriately captivated?

The now, at least, has options. Such as, when it’s rainy, or too cold, or suddenly, too hot, we can sit in the car. The radio sounds better from in there anyways, the wind can’t steal and confetti-toss all the napkins like a cruel game of keepaway. We can think of ourselves as trying new things, embracing fresh thoughts, getting stains on our pants and shirts in different places, from different sit-and-eat situations. This month brings a new Bob Dylan album. It certainly won’t be Blonde on Blonde. It won’t even be Love and Theft. But there will be something you’ve never heard. Likewise tomorrow will bring something new, another distraction tactic, another approach, another appetite, and, if we’re lucky, another way to satisfy it.

Meanwhile, so much of the future seems to be being written for us, by unseen authors with little writing experience, the lot of them banging away on outlines behind scenes, on drafts where they can’t even fully commit to a genre. Post apocalypse-ism mixes with an economic playbook, fantasy meets self-help meets realism. Throughout, uncertainty seems to blend with malfeasance, announcements are unmade or surprise-made, or made and reversed, or misunderstood or ignored. Restaurants are not open, but tomorrow, at precisely 2pm, they can be and we will all be safe. Go ahead. Our reality, our way forward, seems tenuous, a bit dreadful, a venture out still coming with constant subconscious risk assessment, a survey of an unpredictable and maybe cataclysmic thunderstorm before a bike ride, the checks and balances on fun and need. Skipping headlines for more than a few hours seems to be willful ignorance. But maybe it’s more simple: if I can’t safely see my restaurant servers face, this situation is probably not quite right.

In our bubbles, in our political allegiances, it was easy to know where to stand, especially gauged by the actions and virally-spread photos of a bunch of boneheads at a bar Platteville, when the Supreme Court struck down caution and reason to make Wisconsin, again, a national laughing stock of unawareness. It seemed a slap in the face, the wake-up kind, a dose of belligerent selfishness. Yet, maybe history will see it all differently. Perhaps they, us, are all simply, naturally, hellbent on togetherness. On connection. With the country seemingly schisming more by the day, with fractures leading to offshoot fractures, maybe we actually just need something, somebody, each other. We invented taco trucks, and then, eventually, taco truck parks, as if even our restaurants should socialize with each other. We came up with small plates so that the same table could legitimately hold, say, at La Merenda, goat cheese curds alongside Jamaican goat curry next to seared Sockeye salmon. And they could all become friends. Cheers has always been so popular, held up, not just because it is pretty funny, but it represents an ideal, of comfortable cahoots, of escape from the real world. We can see, hope ourselves, there, all of us being our self-deprecating and whimsical best, with buds and brews and wisdom found. It represents a coming together, in the face of our absurd existence. A mariachi duo, or far too much to eat and drink, can show that our time is still now, that we—me, and you over there, at the same spot, in the same moment!—deserve something, sometimes.    

These days I think often of a long-shuttered Bay View corner tap I used to freely and proudly proclaim to anybody listening as my Cheers. It was a strange, dim nook of the world I drank and wedged my way into, forging a musical and lyrical brand of late-night conspiracy. By the time I became a regular, my bartenders, my Sam and my Woody, would occasionally let me stay after hours, would pour me a shot of Bulleit at 2:30, would joke about me having my “shift drink,” would not kick me out until I kicked myself out. We would bitch, complain, jostle, josh, give each other hurried TED Talks in the sporadic crowd lulls. I knew the names of their siblings, the health statuses of their dogs, they were invited to my wedding. All those nights, eventually, I would stumble out the door, solo stagger home, bleary-eyed but content, untouchable to Monday, knowing, simply, far from sober but assuredly, somebody got me. In the hullabaloo existence of parking lots, indifferent masses, I had a spot. I don’t know when, I don’t know who will tell me it’s time, I don’t even know where, but I know I need to get back to that place.  

[chicanxthings-blog]

Part II: Chicano Humor in Art Form: For Whom the Taco Bell Trolls

Humor can always bring people together, especially during hard situations and these Chicanx artists used that to their own advantage. Rubén Trejo for example, explained how the use of jalapenos was funny in both American and Mexican cultures but in different ways. Mexicans laugh at the way Americans feel about jalapenos, it was their way of being able to terminate the fear of the Anglos and tease their dominant culture. They would compare their crucial display of spicy levels on hot sauce bottles with their nonchalant attitude toward the vegetable. But this commonality also allowed the two cultures to connect with each other. Although they used different tactics and symbols, the humor component was still there and granted Chicanxs a sense of ease and unity. It’s always good to laugh through the pain sometimes and I think that’s what these artists were trying to explain in their communities. 

[jtrahan]

Local Legend

Our contact meets us at the airport, face mostly covered by beard and sunglasses, backpack slung over broad shoulders, clothing black and tactical. He nods grimly as we approach. We say hello. He grunts. We inquire about transportation. He motions us into a corner, glances to either side, leans in before he speak.

“Transport can be hard to come by here if you don’t have the right connections,” he rumbles at us. “There’s a local legend I’ve been digging into, about a secret order of drivers, plainclothes, hidden in sleeper cells throughout the city. It took some doing, but I think I’ve got us an in.”

He calls us an Uber. On the way into town we start to feel pretty hungry. Is there anywhere, we ask our guide, where we could stop to grab a quick bite to eat?

He leans back in his seat, rubs the back of his neck, takes a minute to think about the problem. “I may have something for you,” he growls. “There’s a rumor among the locals about a place that can supply you even late nights, if your money is good, and you know the right people.” He grips the wheel tighter. “I’ll get us there. Whatever it takes.”

He takes us to the Taco Bell drive-thru. A few hushed words are exchanged with a man on the inside, and we come away with several extra packets of hot sauce.

Feeling a little sleepy now, we ask our driver if he can recommend a decent place to spend the night. He nods again, sunglasses catching the red glow of the traffic light. “I’ve heard stories,” he tells us. “Only stories, mind you, but there’s often a grain of truth in these local legends, glimmers of light in the darkness.” His smile is a jagged gash, grim and reckless. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

He drives us to the Holiday Inn. We get our luggage out of the trunk, offer our thanks. He tells us to be careful out there. “These are dark times,” he says. “Keep your friends close.” We say we will, and he nods a final time, and stands there, waiting for us to turn around so he can fade into the shadows. 

We do. And he does. 

[dinendabbleto-blog]

Let’s TACO ‘Bout it

About two months ago, my cousin Maggie asked if my boyfriend Dave and I wanted to go to Taco Fest at Ontario Place. Naturally, I responded within one minute of her texting saying, “send me the info and I’ll purchase our tickets!” I didn’t have to think twice about going. How could we pass up tacos, beer, and margaritas? There is truly no better way to spend a Sunday.

Taco Fest is hosted by TASTETORONTO to showcase some of Toronto’s best chefs that cook with a Mexican twist. There was live music, an authentic Mariachi band and 25 vendors on the grounds. They served a variety of tacos, nachos and salsa, churros, Mexican street corn, and sangria, plus tons of hot sauces. If you enjoy Mexican food, this was definitely the place to be. Here is a great after video from 2016 that TASTETORONTO put together: click here.

Here is a little recap of my first Taco Fest experience:

To start, I have few tips if you ever plan on attending a TASTETORONTO event:

1)      Do NOT eat before! You surprisingly fill up much quicker than expected;

2)      SHARE everything. Sharing is caring  – the more food items you get to try, the better; and

3)      Do NOT over indulge at the bar the night before – I previously went to Brunch Fest and struggled to enjoy myself due to a few too many beverages the night before

We followed my advice and went bright and early. We did not eat breakfast beforehand and therefore did not ruin our appetites – HIGHLY recommend this tactic. We arrived starving, hit all of the stations we wanted, and missed all of the lines, which started to form as we were too full to eat anything else.

It was a little bit overwhelming at first because everything looked delicious and the smells were heavenly. We decided a drink to start may be the best idea. We headed over and ordered Margaritas and Coronas.

Our first food stop was at Busters Sea Cove:

I tried the Jerk Shrimp Taco, which was amazing and one of my favourites. It included jerk fried shrimp, roja, creamy coleslaw, pico de gallo, and jerk aioli on a corn tortilla. Next we headed to the Kathi Roll Express to try The Legendary Butter Chicken Taco. This one is pretty self-explanatory – the taco shell was naan bread. It was my second favourite of the day.

Then we headed to The Citizen to try their Beet & Avocado taco. This was an interesting one and probably my least favourite, BUT it was a beautiful looking taco (see below). This taco consisted of guacamole, coconut queso, beet crema, and puffed quinoa.

Next we tried the Pulled Yam Taco from Rancho Relaxo, which was seasoned shredded yam and carrot topped with vegan apple slaw in a flour tortilla (I wish it was in a corn tortilla but still delish) and the Buffalo Cauliflower Taco from Fidel Gastro’s. This consisted of fried cauliflower tossed in a buffalo sauce with creamy slaw, radish coins, celery, and chopped chives. These two tacos tied for third place.

We ended the day with a Mexican street corn called the Taco Sweet Corn Parfait from The Mighty Cob and Ice Cream Tacos from Booyah Inc.  I thought it was quite unfair since I can’t eat dessert due to my bet… WHICH IS ALMOST OVER! T-minus 54 days… not that I am counting or beyond excited at all.

I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed Taco Fest and will 100% attend again next year. It was a great way to try multiple restaurants in one sitting and figure out where I may want to go back for a full sit down meal. The live music and Mariachi band was a great addition and provided the perfect pit stop to enjoy a beverage and digest before food rounds 4, 5, and 6!

Enjoying every last bite....

TASTETORONTO is hosting an event similar to Taco Fest and Brunch at the end of the summer called Beer, Bourbon, and BBQ. If you are looking for some great craft beers, bourbon cocktails, grill master lessons, and bull rides I would definitely consider going!

Check out my Instagram page : @dineNdabbleTO

[sinne043-blog]

day 29

As this 30 day challenge winds down, I’d like to talk about some more clever Tinder advertising. Here’s a spot from SmileDirectClub, an invisible dental aligner company. Good teeth are attractive, but why isn’t the woman in the ad smiling?

That might be because she’s about to have her “life changed” by SmileDirect’s products. Either way, this spot is very intelligent. It would be stupid easy for me to accidentally swipe right on this, because the model in it is attractive. I don’t know how many people will stay on the site after accidentally swiping, but it’s certainly a promising tactic.

We made our weekly trip to the grocery store, and we were tasked with getting ingredients for our “family” dinner on Friday as per tradition. My roommate Nick wanted burgers and fries, so we decided to get some frozen fries we could put in the oven. We were faced with many choices, most of which were branded by some kind of recognizable fast food joint. This growing trend is also shown in one of my previous posts with Taco Bell hot sauce.