As you know, I have not updateD the blog in sometime now. This is not because I am abandoning it, or forgot about it. I simply needed a break and I took one. And you know what? Skip the next line of text, Mongolian Sweetheart.
I want a motherfucking churro.
You can read again Mongo. I want a churro. I don't know why. It's probably just a base human instinct for your mind to consider some sort of Mexican food at some point during hunger. Like how every once in while you entertain the thought of your own sitcom or frying something that should never, ever be fried.
As a person who has traveled much between two states, I know a thing or two about travel. The luxury of a good hotel is priceless. Well, actually no, it does have a price and can usually be found on a website or the inside of a well made pamphlet. But in all that luxury you can never find the things you love to eat, usually because they're too common to be served at such a "fine" establishment or because of legal reasons it cannot be fed to the general public. Fried twinkies, mentos followed up with a cocktail of five different types of Coke, and street churros that are, for some inexplicable reason, smothered in hot sauce.
Perhaps it's just the cheapskate in me, but I thoroughly enjoy cheap foods. There's just something about a delicious bag of something known to cause heart disease that makes you feel all warm inside. Or maybe that's just my arteries clogging. Hm.
In any case, I can't deny my current, probably short-lived love of fried Mexican pastries. Maybe one day I'll find that street vendor again. I am sure that that is the only time in my life I have eaten a tasty churro covered in hot sauce.
Ah, churro. You flighty temptress.
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