The breakfast burrito does not command a waiting list. It does not necessitate a shower. When assembled from ingredients available at home, it does not even require pants. The breakfast burrito does not come with a side of grating laughter from the next table over. It does not keep its consumer adhered to a sagging rattan chair in misguided pursuit of the fulfillment of bottomless anything. The breakfast burrito does not creep into the early afternoon. It sinks easily to the bottom of the stomach, where it disperses the perfectly-wrapped ratio of protein, carbohydrates, and hot sauce to mitigate a lingering hangover upon impact. The breakfast burrito does not call for Champagne. It is a celebration in and of itself.
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