You ever wonder what's in a taquito? I mean, I haven't had one in God only knows how long. It was like a Hot Pocket with half the deliciousness, a meaty crepe if you will. These are the kinds of foods you give to ailing people or those without tongues. At least they don't have the misfortune of actually tasting what they eat.
I'd wager that it's filled with ground vermin meat. The kind they find scurrying about near the vats of taquila. Rats with bad teeth, the rats that their rat brethren ostracize because they don't want to smell their breath. But those rats aren't really rat enough to tell the soon-to-be-snack-food ones that they don't want to be around them. It gets all sorts of awkward when they meet up in the walls at Christmas time. There've been lawsuits. You know, that whole rat-on-rat domestic violence thing that blew up in the news recently.
Regardless of the criminalities rattus, they are all the horrible for their meat's overall greasiness. I'll never eat a taquito as long as I live, slathered as it is in various cheese product.
Pass me the churro, Paco. I'm feeling another night south of the border.