I love Taco Bell. I’ve eaten it so much that my hemorrhoids have hemorrhoids.
And yeah, I’ve heard the comments from the haters: “Taco Bell serves dog food-caliber meat.” “Everything on the menu is the same five ingredients smashed together in a random combination and given a different Mexican-sounding name.” “We are not going to Taco Bell for our anniversary.” But I just let the criticism slide right off me, which is easy to do because I lather my entire body in Fire Sauce every morning.
By the way, if the fact that I’ve mentioned the condition of my asshole multiple times hasn’t given it away, Taco Bell isn’t paying me a cent for this gallery. Not that I’d accept their money anyway. They’ve already given me so much. All I’d ask for in return is an explanation about what really happened to the Taco Bell dog (I know you framed Weird Al — STOP THE LIES).