I will remember you, will you remember me? Don’t let your life pass you by. Weep not for the memories
Well, this is probably the worst thing to happen in the past four years.
My favorite childhood snack has been ripped out of my hands. All because you people didn’t know what you had until it was too late.
I watched you all eat your Drumsticks, your SpongeBob pops and your Screwballs like fucking idiots while I dripped ice cream and got taco shrapnel all over my clothes. And did I complain? Sure probably a little bit. But I kept going and kept eating those Choco Tacos every time the ice cream man came by or if I was stoned in a 7/11.
I’ll miss the crunch of that weirdly brown taco shell, filled perfectly with vanilla ice cream, fudge and peanuts. And if that wasn’t enough they gingerly dipped it into some kind of vat filled with chocolate, giving it the most perfectly thin chocolate shell. I’ll miss that the most.
I remember my first Choco Taco just as well as my last. As it was unaltered by time, like Hillary Clinton’s fashion sense or Kevin Spaceys sexual taste in men.
There are a few perfect things in this world, and one of them just disappeared.
Here I am five years ago eating a Choco Taco in some nice cargo shorts, something else that was taken away from me.
Seriously though God, why? Couldn’t you have taken the lady down the street who gives me dirty looks for smoking my very legal weed on my front porch. Couldn’t you strike her down while she fans her hand in front of her face like the smoke is having any effect on her 100 feet away?
Rest in paradise Choco Taco. We had one hell of a ride.