A philosophical treatise on the futility of societal expectations.
It's a travesty, really. Tacos are the epitome of culinary joy, a symphony of flavors, a dance of textures.
But no, we're told we can't have them. "It's not healthy," say the health enthusiasts. "Tacos are too messy," say the neat freaks.
But what's the point of life if we can't have a little mess? A little grease on our fingers, a little crunch in our bellies?
So here's the thing: we'll have tacos, no matter what the naysayers say. We'll find a way, we'll make a way, we'll taco-ify our lives.
A call to arms, a cry to the heavens: let us rise up and demand our taco rights!
We'll take our tacos to the streets, we'll fill the parks with taco trucks, we'll storm the capitol with tortilla chips.
For the sake of all that is just and holy, let us have our tacos, and let us never be silenced.