So about once a week I venture down to this taco truck on Rose and Lincoln and give myself a special treat. After Nikola visited last week, we started calling these tacos mouth orgasms. Because they are so insanely good you feel like you have reached new heights of happiness. Literally, one time we came home and ate them feverishly and then laid back in post-taco satisfaction. I called out to my companions, “Does anyone have a cigarette?” I went tonight and didn’t learn my lesson. I should have gotten at least FOUR tacos instead of two.