Tamale Day went down when I was -OTS, sadly. Looked like a KILLER TIME.
Tamale day is a strong believer in segregation and prejudice. But rather than using this as hate, we use them as tools. You see white people have fucked up tamale day more than enough times. As a result we’ve had to enact some rules. Now I understand some people think this is “wrong” but to those people I say fuck you, white people ruin all our shit anyways and Tamale Day is about BROWN PRIDE! We don’t fuck with that vegan train of sucks, rolled tacos, white ass rice, or mango chutneys or whatever weak ass bullshit these cornball motherfuckers want to introduce.
The number one crime whites have commited at Tamale Day was touching the fucking steamer. One year a bunch of my hungry friends kept on checking the steamer. The problem with this is that the steam then escapes and condensates on the lid. The water drips on the tamales below which have dropped in temperature so that it takes longer to cook soggy tamales. After that year the coalition of the brown enacted a no white people allowed to touch the steamer initiative.
Mission Mission favorite Kati Jackson took a trip to the great city of Portland and stumbled across this burrito guide. Dunno. I always unwrap my burrito or else I end up eating tinfoil because I didn’t get enough oxygen when I was born. It’s never been a problem. The burrito, that is.
Also, for those of you who don’t have the time to read the Shakespearean string of comments that I’m sure this post will envoke, let me sum it up for you:
I used to love this place: you could pretty much roll in any day of the week, toss your bike up in the rack, get served a vegan sausage and a liter of beer from someone who always seemed to be more drunk than you and proceed to drink until you were ready to have a track stand contest on the pool table. Then Murph sold the business to some bro and opened up shop in Fairfax. Bro then installed some televisions, then a DJ booth, then tossed the bike rack in the dumpster, started having issues keeping sauerkraut in stock, the employees sobered up, the bathroom stopped being covered in piss and cum, and the scene left for Bender’s.
The only redeeming value of the ‘new’ Gestalt Haus was you could still order a liter of beer and bet money if there would be any food in stock. Well, a tipster tells us that they’ve taking up refusing to serve some beer in liter glasses: “I offered to pay the guy $20 dollars to pour a Leffe in a liter glass and he flat out refused saying it was now against bar policy.”