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Down To Taco: Doritos Locos Tacos Promise Delicious, And Come Through
Kevin Naulls has a "visceral, sexual" experience as one of the first Canadians to try Taco Bell's masterpiece

“We are the Taco Bell Generation”

Imagine Nirvana were a concept fulfilled in the union of meat product, Doritos, sour cream, lettuce, tomatoes and hot sauce. Sound impossible? It isn’t.
Today I was among the first Canadians to try the Doritos Locos Tacos, a product so decadent, so veiled in mystique, that it almost did not seem real. But I assure you it is real, and it is spectacular, and if you are 1 of 1000 people willing to wait in line – tonight from 10 p.m. to midnight at Queen and August – for the opportunity, you could have a sneak taste of this euphoric flavour combination. Everyone else will have to wait until September 2, when Doritos Locos Tacos are revealed to the world en masse. And there are only 1 million in total, and quantities won’t last.
Upon first bite, the high-sodium profile of the Dorito shell coats the tongue like a waxy throat at a chili cook-off. The taste is nostalgic, and comforting. The residue, orange, permanently mingles with your fingertips, and at times I avoided wiping the sour cream from my beard because I wanted one more taste, one more digital lick. The experience was visceral, sexual. I had a Doritos Locos Tacos facial. And I wanted more. 
Taco Bell sluts like me are out there. Those lone, true Mexicana hunter-worshippers who want to be probed by a compact and layered food product that seems too perfect to be assembled by the hands of talented assembly cooks. I was a Doritos Locos Taco virgin yesterday, and today I became a woman. 
Served as a side to this other-worldly tournament of tacos was the nachos supreme, only this time made with Doritos. The same recipe as the taco, only served as a platter to rival anything you might find at Sneaky Dee’s. You think you can have enough Doritos, but your brain and body connection will tell you to ingest sodium until the point of collapse. And you will listen. 
My fingers permanently stained, and my body sated (and potentially gluttonously full), I walked proudly with a bag of 20 more DLTs, ready to spread the word of a hands-free orgasm that costs pennies on the dollar.
I think I need a nap. 


Kevin Naulls is a Toronto-based writer and former editor of The Goods and The Hype at Torontolife.com. Follow him on Twitter @kevinjn.

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