Damn you El Mariachi!!

Dear Steak Burrito,

It was great to see you again tonight. I'm so glad you wanted to hang out. I thought you might still be mad at me for not returning your calls the past few months. Then again, you always were the mature one in our relationship.

Gosh, I don't know how to put this. I fucked up. I should have left you alone, but noooo...I just had to give us one last try.

You were wonderful tonight. So loving, so tender, so mouth-wateringly delicious. Mmmm...no, I can't do this to you again.

It hurts too much to be near you, to hold you, to tear into your meaty goodness. I tried to restrain myself by only eating half of you, but you're just too damn good...and I am too damn weak.

Siiighh...my bowels are filled with such sweet sorrow!! I knew the minute I walked into El Mariachi tonight, I would soon regret it. I wish regret was spelled R-O-L-A-I-D-S.

We both know that I don't have the self-control nor the digestive system to indulge in the occasional burrito-call. I need a clean break. And I'll probably need some more toilet paper, too.

This is my final good-bye. You deserve a woman who can handle her beefsteak. I thought I was that woman, but now I know to stick with good ol' tubesteak. It doesn't bother my ass as much, unless of course... well, you know.

Sincerely,

Thighs