Exactly. I’ve been on a nutritious kick last year as I’ve been on a crusade to shed weight, but sometimes...I just gotta get my fat kid on with Double Decker Tacos.

I made the mistake of eating three of the ghost pepper ones, after a 6 pack of Dales Pale Ale and a bomber of coffee stout. About an hour later my guts were on fire, till my ass exploded out a cheesy beer soup at 4 A.M.

I’m all for frat boys getting punched unconscious.

As a big fan of Mexican food, I both love Taco Bell and realize it is not at all anything Mexican. Like you can enjoy the artistry of professional boxing and still want to watch two drunk frat boys punch each other unconscious in the parking lot of a Church’s Chicken.

I know your heart is in the right place, but I think this is the worst thing you can do. She is going to put that in the back of her mind and then at the worst possible time she’s going to lose it with some sort of rant: “I’m the one being passive-aggressive! Well at least I have the balls to tell someone my opinion…

You eat the lunch your wife packed at like 10 a.m. then still go get your burrito. Or eat the burrito and throw the lunch away and never mention it. But you don’t, under any circumstances, risk fucking that situation up, you moron.

If you tell her she over-mustard-ed the sandwich, I hope you enjoyed the last free meal your wife ever made you.

Years ago the dickheads above me would have Monday night video game parties that were loud and annoying as shit. The floors in that place were like a fucking paper sack, I could hear everything. Normal drill was I would walk up, ask them to STFU then they would quiet down for approximately fifteen minutes then crank…