Discopants and Haircuts

I want to talk about a friend of mine. His name is Taco.. Actually his name is Mr. Burrito. He has a few friends too. There’s Mr. Tomato, Mr. Refried Beans, Mr. Taco Sauce, Mr. Tabasco, Mr. Cheese, Mr. Corn, Mr Rice and, of course, Dr. Sour Cream. I bring this up because, you see, I freakin’ love softshell tacos. I love them. I want to smear them all over my body. I want to wrap myself in a giant tortilla and eat myself. I want to create the word’s first Taco Christmas tree. I am that serious about Mr Taco and his friends. "So," you might be thinking, "what is your point Pants?" My point is that Mr Taco’s good friend Dr. Sour Cream was always the party pooper at my pooper party. You see, he was the one thing that created that, "Sure this is a damn fine burrito… but…but… the Sour Cream, although a crucial part of the experience, is really not too good for me.. " There it was… There it is.. Dr. Sour Cream. YOU BASTARD!!!!!! YOU GIVE A LITTLE BUT TAKE SO MUCH!!!!!! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU ALL TO HELL! But no longer my friends.. No longer at all. I would like to introduce you to Mr. Tofutti Sour Cream Supreme Esquire. The shit is not Sour Cream.. but it is very close. In fact, it is real close. When you combine it, with the everything else that makes a taco great, you get a damn fine Mexican experience. But guess who no longer shows his ugly face? Mr. Guilt.. The soy bean.. Is there nothing it can’t do?