White guys.

It doesn't matter who you are or what you do. If you're a tall skinny white guy with long hair and a beanie, all that I'll ever be able to see you as is one of those guys getting a face full of pavement after trying to grind a rail on your skateboard.

Or gay.

Or both.

Once Upon a Taco.

Once upon a time, a great man came to me in a quandary. "I hold here in my hand a taco." He said to me. "While being neither a burrito, nor a sandwich, it possesses qualities of both! How intriguing."

"Weird." I said with a chuckle.

"How dare you chuckle at this, the most serious of foods!"

"No way man, tacos are hilarious. I'd even go so far as to say that they are funny down to the very core of their being."

And on that day a great challenge was issued. If I could prove that tacos were inherently laughable, I would be crowned the better writer (and I'm totally going to make him give me like, five bucks or something.) If I failed to do so, I'm just a failure, and also as a bonus I have to give him back rubs for a year (although if he declines that offer I'm open to giving someone else back rubs for a year. I need the practice so I can go pro).

Picture related, I swear it. If you've seen this show, you know how hilarious tacos are.

Now, as my opening point, I'd like to bring to the table the fact that from the root of the word "taco," we also get the word "wadding." Yes, that does mean that all a taco is is a meat wad, often times served with lettuce, tomato, and cheese. Haha. Wad. Hahahahahahah wad! WAD! I dare you to go to the nearest Bell or Bueno (whichever you think is better, which is an argument for another time (but it's totally Bell)) and ask for a beef wad.

Secondly, there's a distinct difference between the Americanized taco we know and love today and the authentic Mexican taco, which can still be found in taco stands and other Mexican eateries. I'd say the average Taco you'd find today is about 5-6 inches in length and 4 inches tall, in a hard outer shell, with meat, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese layered on top of each other. However, in a classic, authentic taco, you're going to find something quite different. Depending on where you get it from and how much it costs, all it really is is a soft, some times fried corn tortilla with meat, onions, and lots of cilantro. It's as if someone in Mexico, circa 1930, said "you know what'd make this burrito better? Less beans and everything and so much meat that you can't close it. Yeah." That is, of course, only my speculation of how the taco started, but I think it's a good speculation. Now you can find one dollar tacos on three inch tortillas that you can barely pick up because of how much topping there is, but I'm sure you could buy a five dollar one the size of a burrito, and it'd look almost exactly like how I described it's humble beginning.

Last, but not least, I submit to you that all this time, Americans have been eating tacos incorrectly. Innumerable times I have found myself dissatisfied with my taco eating experience because the delicious meat I crave is hidden beneath a thick padding of tasteless lettuce. What if I told you that we have been duping ourselves into eating that bland filler by placing it on top of the meat we desire so greatly? It's time for a taco revolution people! A literal one, which is way easier than the other kind. All you have to do is grasp your tasty ethnic treat from the top, securing all the filling inside, and flip it upside down. Viola! You can sate your hunger for meat without having a two or three bite interlude of tomatoes and lettuce between each scrumptious mouthful of beef.

In conclusion, I submit to you that taco's are funny because they are literally a wad of food (which brings back memories of Ron from Kim Possible), they're basically a burrito that got too big for it's britches, and that they're best eaten in an unconventional manner. All you have to do is imagine yourself as Tobey McGuire in the original Spiderman movie, and imagine Kirsten Dunst as a taco. Bam, upside-down hilarity.