If the glory can be killed, we are lost

Taco Friday for Friday, August 23rd

It is my dire duty to inform you of yet another loss in our karass. T.N., a spiritual soldier of Taco Friday since days lost since generations passed, will die. We will all die, but he will die in the most ignominious fashion: he will no longer breathe and know that tacos are only around the corner. Years of experience in yelling, vomiting, and punches, gone with the stroke of a pen/urine test.

How do we celebrate the loss of a hero? Self-flagellation comes to mind, as does breaking bottles by the garbage bins outside the QF Mart (also deceased). Celebration of the dead is only heartbreaking if one has lived not their life to the fullest and if people were unkind to one another; "perhaps if they were / our deaths would not be so sad." Here at Taco Friday (my desk as I write before wine and nicotine leaves my fingers), we front a more Spartan approach: we celebrate the dead as though they were still living.

We ignore death because it is trivial. We celebrate death because it is as close to waking up as the alarm clock or the sun peeking through window shades. An embrace of greeting is as precious as final goodbyes since they are identical.

 This Taco Friday will break the rules, so get ready. There will be gifts (punches; death) and surprises (gifts; death). You are to RSVP or fuck you. Fuck you so much.

Thank you.

how did you "no"

Taco Friday for Friday, August 28th

I'm very sorry to say that I have bad news. In very short time, we will be losing several dear, dear friends to what amounts to death: expatriation. Though their shifting bodies will move their mouths, alien syllables will pour out in a meaningless torrent. Their dull eyes will look but not focus, like the pale shimmer of those of fish. They will eat slightly different fried potato dishes, potentially with a different fatty topping, and call them stupid names. Ugh.

While there is never any sort of hope (Ever - ed.), we can offer solace! And whiskey and yelling, tacos and camaraderie. Come join the soon-to-be dearly departed in one last stand of what you've hopefully come to enjoy, Taco Friday. Same taco time, same taco place. I will break step and ask that a few people bring a small dish to pass so that there will be constant rejoicing. Also bring some beers and tell me if you want a particular mixed drink.

This is going to be big, guys. Rarely do the dead get to enjoy their own funeral. Here's something to wet your palate.