Puffy Tacos Be Damned
It was bound to happen.
After about forty trips to Jacala for puffy tacos, Aviva was stricken yesterday with what seems to be taco poisoning. The beef was 'not quite right,' and for sure it was way undercooked.
Still, like a trooper, she marched on that day, to Target, Dillards and Nomadic Notions exotic bead store. Then last night we went to a party for a 98-year-old guy, my friend Ruben's daddy. We finished out the night eating goat cheese in a piloncillo sauce at the Liberty Bar. No wonder she felt like crap all night.
I am calling Jacala today to bitch. I am calling Code Compliance tomorrow to rat them out for poisoning my girl. TACO POISONING BASTARDS.