Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Bach is a Champion

Why do bloggers hate Johann Sebastian Bach? That's what I want to know.

I've been cruising the blogosphere for champions to recruit andstumbled across a post on the Old Fish and Lemonade blog assaultingthe Cheesy Gordita Cruch. I haven't had a Cheesy Gordita Crunch, so I can't criticise OFAL's conclusion. I do, however, stridently disagree with his reasoning. OFAL makes an observation I've made before, that TB uses the same ingredients in their items. But rather than seeing the beauty of it, he says it's "the same shit every time" and "retarded."

Johann Sebastian Bach would disagree. You know, only the most genius composer in the universe ever. See, he wrote little ditties called Fugues that take the same theme and re-work it over and over again, crafting a perfect balance between simplicity and complexity. Sounds a hell of a lot like taco beef, cheese, lettuce and tomato to me. The TB menu is today's Orchestral Suite No. 3. But I guess that Bach just wrote "the same shit every time" and that's it's "retarded."


P.S. As a side note, OFAL claims that Taco Bell gives you the "shits." Probably because he's got weak digestive and immune systems. Know what you do when a baby gets sick? You let it fight the infection so it develops antibodies. (Antibodies?, he asks. Get a dictionary. Dictionary? A word explaining book, Webster.) But OFAL won't do that with his baby. He'll get a nice prescription, and then when the kid's twelve--WHAMO! Dead from the flu.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Applying the Double-Decker Principle to Thanksgiving

I attended an early Thanksgiving feast yesterday, and it is one of the few times I didn't regret skipping out on the Bell. That's because the hosts applied Taco Bell principles when preparing our meal, in this case the "double-decker" principle of putting one delicious food inside another, as with the Double-Decker Taco.

We ate Turducken. It's a chicken inside a duck inside a turkey. With Italian sausage, cornbread and traditional stuffing in between the meat layers. It's the Grande Soft Taco of turkey dinners.

If that wasn't enough, they also lowered an entire pig into a hot pit in the ground, covered it with soil, and let it cook for ten hours. Then we dug it up and ate it. No TB principles here, but still hard-core.

Stop crying! I know you Lady Champions just can't stand looking at that dead pig's head, and I know you Sausages out there don't like the sensation of your testes shrinking because you didn't cook a pig in a pit and then eat it. Suck it up for the cause! Where would the Soviet Revolution be if Trotsky just walked away because Lenin got all the chicks? Deal with it.

Lessons to remember:
-- There are meals clearly less healthy than TB (e.g. Turducken and pig in a pit)
-- Taco Bell Principles can be applied outside the food court (e.g. Thanksgiving, architecture and midwifery)
-- I ate four meats--five if the Italian sausage had beef in it--in one meal, reminding us all again why I am The Champion and you are not (i.e. I am a muthafuckin' badass).
-- I properly use "i.e." and "e.g."

Friday, October 27, 2006

Border Bullets: Britney Federline

Some quick TB updates...

  • Britney Spears loves Taco Bell! Apparently she got some drive-through with her sister. Here's a pic of her taking the bag (do those look like Classic crunchy tacos!?!). More can be found at JustJarod.com
  • Am I the Son of God? You didn't hear it from me, folks. Two loyal readers kept tabs on the site in spite of 174 days absence and made some Christ comparisons upon my return. Johnny said, "Jesus woulda risen 58 times!" and af says, "I never thought the rapture would occur during my lifetime, but praise Jesus, the Messiah is Come!" Hope things end differently for me.
  • It's old, but a reader emailed me a video of David Novak himself! Smart. Strapping. Sexy.
  • The Taco Bell Champion! Resurgence has gone overseas. Since the new posts, champions have visited from Hong Kong, Turkey and the Netherlands.
  • I'm considering making some Taco Bell Champion t-shirts. Email me if you think that's a good/bad idea or if you have any ideas for the design.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

From "Crunched," the Fictionalized Autobiography of David Novak

Can a woman's flesh be colder than ice?

As consciousness slowly seeped into my vivid dreams--me killing terrorists, on a big boat, as usual--this was the question that gripped me. Standing over Osama's corpse, my eyes crept open, revealing the glare of the bright sun shining through the cracked and crusty blinds. The blinds of a flop-house are wiser than any man. Perpetually closed, they're eternally exposed to both sides of the world. The sunny street, teeming with promise, hope and people striving to make their insignificant bit of the Earth better. And the other side--the inside--a debauched, hidden place where only the opposite of hope thrives.

My eyes refocused on my watch atop the night-stand, or rather the metal folding chair used for that purpose. I can only imagine what other uses the guests at this home of pleasure and horror made of that chair. 3:72pm. Shit. Another board meeting flushed down the toilet of time. Slowly, my other senses began to awaken. The chalky taste of last night's quaaludes. An aroma next, unforgettable: day-old Chicken Quesadillas and Chalupas. Between fifteen and sixteen hours old, judging from the smell.

Then my flesh. I begin to do what we humans pitifully describe as feel. Poor choice, that word, because while I can "feel" a white hot poker sizzling through muscle and bone, what I truly feel is loneliness, heartache, despair. We ought to have two words for feel. The first thing I feel is heaviness, on my left side, trapping my arm. Motionless, soul-crushing weight. I look--it's Diane. Or Suzanne. Or Lianne. Whatever her name was, the object of my drug-fueled desires last night. Her nude body, pale--too pale--her stomach showing traces of powder. White Gold. With delicious nacho cheese smeared... down there. Then I feel more. Coolness. Coldness. Bitter, freezing pain. Can a woman's flesh be colder than ice?

Finally, my fifth sense returns from my dreams to the dirty world where we all live. I can hear... nothing. No breath. No heartbeat. Roxanne? Dead.

My lips whisper, "Not again."

to be continued...

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Albert Pujols is a Choker

No free tacos, champions. There were ZERO home runs tonight, so it looks like we're all out $0.77 each (according to TB's estimate). A longer post tomorrow, but needless to say, I'm disappointed.



The St. Louis Cardinals and the Detroit Tigers failed America last night. Combined, the two teams totaled 387 home runs in the regular season, meaning they averaged 1.2 home runs per game. Each. That means we could expect an average of 2.4 home runs in games they play against each other. That's not magic, it's SCIENCE. But how many did they manage last night? None. And how many people are taco-less? Millions . Now there's a number I understand. (Actually it's quite mind-boggling. It's like a stack of paper to the moon and back seven times, or something.)

Who do I blame for this? First and foremost, I blame the pitchers, specifically Chris Carpenter. His team was up four runs to none in the 8th inning. Would it kill you to give up a homer and bring joy to crippled children across the country? Crippled children, whose medical bills have sucked their parents so dry they can't put food on the table, are the ones in need of free tacos now. How about you try rolling home from two-a-day chemo treatment with only stale cabbage to look forward to, Chris? Not everyone is making $5,000,000.00 this year. Have a heart for Christ's sake.

I also blame the hitters. I'm tempted to blame racist hitters like Scott Rolen, Chris Duncan and Craig Monroe, who seem to have something against Tex-Mex culture. Vote Polk, right guys? But the truth of the matter is that Albert Pujols, Juan Encarnacion, Magglio Ordonez and Carlos Guillen should be most ashamed. They know what taco-y goodness is! They know because they lived it, lived with a warm fuzzy feeling in their guts that says, "It's ok, you've got tacos in here, ignore the suffering around you and rejoice." But we won't know that feeling on November 1 between 2:00 and 5:00pm, when Taco Bell would have made free tacos available. All because you couldn't hit in the clutch.

-TB Champion

P.S. Derek Jeter would have won us all free tacos.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Think Outside The Park

If anyone hits a home run to left field in tonight's World Series game, everyone in America wins a free TB taco. Now, if you're like Ronald Regan--and I know you are--you Trust but Verify. Well, here's your verification, you fascist: Official link to Taco Bell's Think Outside The Park Contest. In spite of all my criticisms of TB (such as its embarassing failure to open a restaurant in Midtown), I think this is a fabulous promotion. Here's why.

First off, FREE TACO.

Second, I respect Taco Bell's support of our national past time. Everyone's hopping on the NASCAR or Futbol (soccer) waggon these days--I'm talking to you, Verizon Wireless--but those aren't truly American sports like the ol' bats-and-balls. I like baseball because you can be fat and slow and still kick ass. That's THE AMERICAN DREAM. But by bringing the Bell into baseball, we're also helping to internationalize the game. It's time to sweep baseball's segregated past under the rug, and how better to do it than by replacing hot dogs with Meximelts? It's no coincidence that Park Dogs resemble Lou Gehrig's penis and not Jackie Robinson's. The symbolism is obvious; might as well wear a hood, Bud Selig.

Third, this can only grow Taco Bell's consumer base by introducing new people to the glorious TB taste. I've always argued that TB is like crack-cocaine . It is similarly addictive and makes you feel even better! Why not take a page from the crack-dealers' handbook? The first taste should be free. Maybe someday the thick-skulls at Yum! will find their own assholes and follow this advice; until then, the free taco World Series promotion is a good first step.

Monday, October 23, 2006

Border Politics

"I sincerely hope that we may continue to minimize the evils likely to arise from immigration without unnecessary friction and by mutual concessions between self-respecting governments."
- President William Howard Taft, 1909*

With the elections approaching, I make sure to read the papers over my morning Chalupa (or Wheaties). One issue at the mid-front is immigration--illegal immigration, English as the national language, melting pot vs. salad bowl, etc. But among the chorus of voices in this debate, one is missing. The UN General Assembly is waiting, David Novak.

"But Champion," Mr. nay-sayer interrupts, "as Taft says, immigration concessions must be made by governments, not the greatest restaurant chain in the history of the world." My reply: "Go back to the aughts, Jag-off!" Snivelingly: "But these are the aughts of the twenty-fir--UGGHH" [slit throat]

Let's face facts, Champions. Taco Bell isn't just our favorite place to eat, it's also one of the most powerful NGOs in the world. Here are the rankings, according to me:
1. Red Cross / Red Crescent
2. World Trade Organization
3. Catholic Church
4. Taco Bell

Taco Bell! You represent the best of multi-culturalism: taking another culture's food, making it taste better, and mass-producing it cheaply. You can be a beacon, a guiding light, a light-house, for the entire world in these tough times! But instead you irresponsibly encourage us to "Run for the Border." Who among us should run? Why? What of the consequences to the labor market and to entitlement programs? Policy, sirs, is not written on the backs of hot sauce packets.

The international community expects more from you, Taco Bell. The Red Cross may as well start torturing dudes.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Boardwalk for Oriental Avenue?

"Hey, you there! Would you like to trade me Boardwalk for Oriental Avenue? You know, the most valuable property on the board for one of the craptastic baby-blue ones. The Boardwalk rent is four times that of Oriental--it's a no brainer. What's that? You don't have any other baby-blue properties? Even so, you shouldn't pass up this opportunity to trade guaranteed success for absolute shit."

If we were playing Monopoly and you suggested this trade to the Champ, I would rape your dog. Anyone who isn't an idiot would. But Taco Bell is apparently an idiot. Introducing the new Nacho Cheese Gordita.

The Nacho Cheese Gordita defiles the delicious Supreme Gordita (second on the savory scale to only the original TB taco) by replacing good, honest, Mexo-American shredded cheese with artificial, liquid, nacho cheese. My feelings regarding nacho cheese are well documented, particularly in relation to the Crunchwrap Supreme. Put simply, it is dramatically inferior to Classic shredded cheese in all cases save nacho dipping.

At least its use in the Crunchwrap is explicable: TB flavor scientists were making something new, assembling bits from other menu items into a Frankenstein-ian monster of taste. Not true for the Nacho Cheese Gordita. They took something fantastic, made a single change, and ruined it.

Next on the Taco Bell agenda: replacing Halle Berry's vagina with a penis.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Back in business MOTHERFUCKERS!

It's been exactly 174 days since I last posted (5 months, 21 days for the curious). And it's all my fault. Because I lack resolve. I suck. But that's over now because my goal--OUR GOAL--has still not been met. TACO BELL IN MIDTOWN WILL BECOME A REALITY. I'll cleanse the demons that have built up this half-year in four steps:

1. Apology
2. Un-Apology
3. Reawakening
4. Update List

Sorry, everyone, for not posting so long and leaving you in the desert, suffering all alone.

Here's my bullshit rationalization for why I stopped posting (effectively undercutting the sincerity of my apology). Number #1: I don't know if any of you saw, but Taco Bell Champion got a lot of press there at the bitter end in April. There was a story about the blog on the AP. Great. Let's get some fucking media in on this Revolution Burrito!

That's what I thought until... Number #2: My push to send Taco Bell CEO David Novak birthday cards demanding a Taco Bell in Midtown resulted in *nothing*. Not even a pussy-ass "cease and desist" order. I guess I got a little depressed. I'm not going to be the faceless face (though my picture's in the AP story) of a movement that has no movement. So I lost hope.

Then, after months of no posting and no Taco Bell, I went to the Whore on 36th Street yesterday. I was real good. And I got to thinking, "Maybe I'll get back in bed with all my friends, the Champions." Then I realized, "Posts only take ten minutes to write." Then I thought, "What the hell is wrong with you, Champion?" Then I made plans to write this.

Here are the things that have happened in the last 174 days, in no particular order:
- I had Taco Bell one time (yesterday).
- I had Ortega home-cooked tacos twice.
- I exercised five times. Over that time I've paid my healthclub $435.76 because I signed a stupid long-term contract. That makes the cost of each visit about $85.
- Superman Returns sucked, Pirates of the Caribbean #2 was good but not great, and Brick rocked my nuts off (good thing).
- I did not go home for my birthday.
- My friend published a hilarious book based on his even hilarious-er blog.
- Warren Buffett donated more than $30 billion to Bill Gates. David Novak--not in on it.
- My apartment got burgled.
- Battlestar Galactica jumped forward ONE YEAR. Wha!?! It is an awesome show. (In case you're counting, only 65 days have elapsed on Lost so far.)
- I bought my girlfriend a necklace that costs more than my annual healthclub membership. Want to know how much I love her? DO THE MATH SHITHEAD.
- Times I cried? Zero.