Don't Steal My Burrito

If there is anything else I hate more in the world is bullies. I thought bullies just stayed at your high schools and beat up nerds to feel cool but I guess I was wrong.

My burrito was stolen. I wanted to eat, enjoy it and douse it in lemon but my burrito was jacked. It was MY fucking burrito after that the phone didn’t matter that much because it was the stealing of my beloved food that broke the camel’s back.

I was tired. I had already offered to get people high. I came with beer they should’ve left my food alone. Oh, but then the phone had to happen. My android was jacked, I was phoneless and homeless so I decided to strike back. The first and only time I’ve ever called the police on someone. I was tired of putting up with the shit.

Taking my money. Taking my weed and on top of that my fucking burrito. No, sir I was out for revenge. I will not smoke you out. Yes, I will run far far away where you cannot find me and take my burritos. I’m Mexican if you dare deprive me of my culture wrapped in food I get mean, violent even. No, I will not shut up and let you get away with it and yes I will laugh for the justice that had you on your knees before me.

Don’t steal my burrito for it were to be gone, you would be too.
I love my food. My stomach craves for that sweet, juicy meat wrapped in rice, beans and pico de gallo. I do not care if you call me a beaner for it is just a word. Kiss my ass for you have been warned. I will put you out and you will be gone. Away with you, you thief of taco stands and beautiful salsa filled dreams.