Big Money Hustler

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Sunday, April 20, 2014

O Nacho Daddy, Nacho Daddy! Wherefore Art Thou Nacho Daddy?


Why must you tempt me with bushy brow and grotesque nose? It's been years since thou left, our summer now devoid of tamales prepared in the back of a questionably modified Recreational Vehicle. Damn thee lowly health department infidel who cannot see past your distended tongue, nose ring, and curiously tiny cowboy hat.To them, your outer beauty and likely toxic paint are but a curse, an impenetrable shield to ward off those unworthy of  the product of your loins.
Oh Nacho Daddy, know that the late-night nourishment demands of Northwest Ohio/Southeast Michigan may have not gone unfulfilled, but alas, its hearts have.

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