You would eat it in a house. You will spill it down your blouse.
With heaps of love and respect for Dr. Seuss, as well as full-bellied appreciation for Chipotle.
Andrea Hickey / BuzzFeed / Inspired by Dr. Seuss
The line was as long as a Krankletromp's tail
so I stood, stood, stood, but to little avail.
The problem? A tourist.
A tortoise-y tourist.
A sluggish fuddnudler whose whining did bore us.
"I would not like white rice.
I would not like brown rice."
The snarp in her tone was anything but nice.
And the anger of me and the other-liners too
pushed the tourist outside and sped-up the queue.
Onwards we marched, pleased to bits with our pace,
and when I was next, these words spewed from my face:
"One bowl.
To go.
White rice.
Pinto."
While the scoop-scooper scooped, I stared full of love
at all the grilled sneetch piled high in the tub.
But my nose caught the scent of another rare treat—
a bin of delectably seasoned roast beast.
I asked for one meat.
And then?
Why, for two!
Ignoring the digestive impact I would rue.
And that's how I made-up a bowl of half-sneetch
and a just-as-big ladle serving of beast.
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