I was going to write another sonnet (and, once again, defy the name of this blog). But all I could manage this morning was:

A breakfast taco is made of love
The kind of love that squishes like boobs

So I thought maybe I should take a break from sonnet writing and just sit here at the kitchen table and enjoy my thoughts of breakfast tacos.

In a happy accident yesterday (or, rather, a divine intervention of space and time), I discovered that breakfast tacos can be made with mashed potatoes. This is world-rocking news. What a concept! So out of the box! So synergized with the eggs and cheese! Because, at the end of the day, all breakfast tacos are made with the same ingredients – it's how you smash them together that makes them special.

This lady, right here, in the taped up kitchen chair, is throwing her .1 horsepower completely behind the synergized gloopy breakfast tacos from Tacodeli.

So.

I don't know what to do with this post anymore. It's gotten weird with the marketing speak and the tacos. I don't know what's happening over here. Usually when I get excited my southern accent spontaneously appears. This is the first time my marketing speak has spontaneously appeared. There is probably a clever way to end this post – with more marketing speak and a big TA DA about potatoes. But I can't figure it out.

I could also end the post by videoing myself taking a huge bite out of a gloop-filled taco so that you can see the wonderfulness for yourself. Alas, I do not have a taco today. 😦

So instead, I will end this post with the two lines that should end the sonnet I have not written:

It is clear we are not boob haters
We just really like our mashed potaters