Salsa:

Last night; Salsa Club. Fortunately, you don't have to be a student, I don't think, in order to be a part of this dance inspired social group. Unfortunately, a sense of rythym isn't required either, a rule illustrated by a rather large hispanic man. God be praised for my lack of breasts . . .

Salsa is good though, especially Spanish Gardens variety and thick and chunky Pace, but the overall theme of this blog has nothing to do with salsa perse, but with a long forgotten, now remembered, memory.

You see there was a day, some ten years ago, when I was a sixth grader. And unlike sixth graders today (this is sad) I was not running about having sex and impregnating girls, as some of them do today, but, instead, I was a mild mannered preteen with an English class that let me write to my hearts content.

What did I write you ask?

"The Adventures of Taco and Burrito." (you see how salsa fits don't you) Those were the days. There were probably about 3 seperate stories about the humanoid mexican food items, but none of them I can remember. I want to say Taco was some sort of detective or something to that effect. I do recall one scene where burrito (was he a lawyer, I don't know) was thrown into a wall, by some unremembered foe, and knocked unconscious. I remember that part because I couldn't spell unconscious and had to ask a teacher.

It must of helped because I can spell the word now, though neccessary is still a problem--DRAT.

Luv,
Clay