What you see above – contrary to the resemblance – is not a giant flesh-eating beetle larva. Rather, it’s a burrito from Café Cantina on G Street. And it’s probably the worst burrito you’ll ever have. By the second bite, the structural integrity had been compromised, and the innards started to spill forth. It became apparent then that the cardboard-ish hot dog basket was a necessary accessory. I can’t be quite sure, but I may have tasted catsup...
Put 10 million Nebraskans of German/Scandinavian extraction in a room and let them have at it. They could come up with something closer to a burrito than whatever it was I force fed myself.
And why would anyone go to Café Cantina, which also houses the superior Pizza Pino? Because it would show their parents, that’s why. The other reason is that it would show those Café Cantina people to give up on burritos, tacos and anything suspected of not being pizza related, expand the pizza counter and change the name from Café Cantina to For D.C., This Is Darn Good Pizza.
Because, yeah, we know that the pizza in _______ (enter Brooklyn, Queens, Effin’ Jersey, Philly, New Haven) is much better than it is here. The jobs aren’t too bad, though, are they? Rust belt jack-offs.
Now all they have to do is read this review, and our wishes will be their command. Maybe not.
Put 10 million Nebraskans of German/Scandinavian extraction in a room and let them have at it. They could come up with something closer to a burrito than whatever it was I force fed myself.
And why would anyone go to Café Cantina, which also houses the superior Pizza Pino? Because it would show their parents, that’s why. The other reason is that it would show those Café Cantina people to give up on burritos, tacos and anything suspected of not being pizza related, expand the pizza counter and change the name from Café Cantina to For D.C., This Is Darn Good Pizza.
Because, yeah, we know that the pizza in _______ (enter Brooklyn, Queens, Effin’ Jersey, Philly, New Haven) is much better than it is here. The jobs aren’t too bad, though, are they? Rust belt jack-offs.
Now all they have to do is read this review, and our wishes will be their command. Maybe not.
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