Hard taco or soft? Gordita or chalupa? Crunchwrap or nacho supreme? These are the decisions that plague a man addicted to Taco Bell. And as if to laugh in my face, the franchise just won’t rest. Every quarter they’re contriving something new, innovative, and breathtaking. They’ve infiltrated my TV and Twitter, my email and Facebook. And as though my life wasn’t loco enough, they’ve convinced me to give their newfangled Mexican delight a try. Sure enough, I’m taken aback, utterly amazed at the endless creations they contrive. Shall I mention the supplemental sauces? Whether medium or mild, fire or verde, they improve what I once thought impossible. At what point will they stop? Do they not understand contentment? Always desiring more, they relentlessly pursue fresh fiestas, delectable discoveries, and new narcotics. It is a tenacity I fear, yet admire; brace for, yet long to embrace. Taco Bell, I love you.