Well, it’s time to open up that O.E. in the I.E. Mailbag. This week, an anonymous college president has a nagging question. Let’s have a look-see, shall we? We shall.

Hey, thanks for the support, President Peter W. Stanley. Now, us Inland Emperors have been eating in the dining halls as usual, but a lot of students have been going to the Village for their vittles. But that’s for weenies! Ain’t no meals to be found in a damn bakery! Believe you me, we ain’t goin’ to the Village till they make that kill-your-own-steer joint they’ve been promising. I mean, Moses sez, "Man does not live on baguettes alone" (Deuteronomy 8:3, interpreted) and he’s Moses! Moses didn’t forget about veal, goll dangit! The Bible just doesn’t have that part.

So Richard woke up at ten thirty last Saturday with visions of burritos dancing in his head. He called in to Drew, "Brother! You know what I’d like to do today while I’m drinking a 40 oz. in the Inland Empire?"

"What’s that, Fellow?" Drew quipped.

"Well, Pal, in addition to my 40 oz. of heavily-sugared alcoholic beverage, I’d like to eat burritos till I throw up," Richard declared.

"My my, Chappie," beseeched Drew, "Be ye certain of thyself?"

"Yes, Comrade," asserted Richard, "Now bring me an ice-cold brewski whilst I’m still in bed. Now mush!"

So we took Indian Hill Boulevard down to Holt and made a right, then parked at Tacos Mexico, on the corner of Holt and East End. Walking into Tacos Mexico was like stumbling across something from a childhood fantasy. Right before our eyes were walls and walls of quarter machines. Now these machines don’t give you quarters, but rather, they take them from you.

Drew S. Eastman Mmmm burrito.. ahhh malt likkah... mmm burrito....

So Drew made a bee-line for the trunk of his car, where he keeps quarters in a gunny sack with a dollar sign on it. He twisted the ends of his handlebar moustache, put on his smoking vest, threw the sack over his shoulder, and rushed back to the Li’l Plastic Football Helmet machine, where he got all the teams but the Vikings and Seattle. Score! Then he spent six fifty in the Homies machine (see O.E. in the I.E. in TSL volume CXI number 2), but couldn’t seem to pick up El Homie más Gordo. He kept getting El Homie más Fuerte y El Homie más Talkativo. Rats! So Tacos Mexico got a medium share of propers for having Homies, but got points deducted for having a dry burrito, for charging a quarter (not like we were at a loss for quarters or nuthin’) to use the bathroom in order to drink your 40 oz., and for putting hard fingernail-like ingredients in the burritos. We mean, unless that’s your thing...fingernail-like ingredients in your food and all. Then we guess that’s a plus for very gross people.

Then we got back on Holt and turned left on Garey. Right next to the Fox Theatre in the Pomona Arts Colony is El Merendero (the one who snacks). Richard ordered the greatest burrito he’s ever had in his life. Its circumference was like a man’s waist and it was long as the day! Richard regretted having the Tacos Mexico burrito and thirty-two ounces of malted in his tummy, ‘cause there wasn’t any room for this new, indomitable burrito. Except he really didn’t regret having the O.E. in his stomach, because the neato thing about alcohol is that, contrary to popular belief, it gets you sauced. Drew ordered his favorite, horchata, a rice drink. Rice drink? You heard correctly, Pomona Student, a rice drink. Then he spilled it on his privates. Richard laughed for a very long time, with burrito falling out of his mouth. Good thing he had on his official O.E. in the I.E. Bib. El Merendero gets the full Inland Emperor endorsement.

Then we went to Taco Bell. Richard was rather plastered and the burrito was wimpy. We’re not giving directions. Ha!

In the end, Richard did not throw up. He loses. But we did do some calculatin’, for when you, Pomona Student, go to El Merendero. You, the average Pomona Student, will have to eat approximately 4.5 regular burritos before you, Pomona Student, throw up. Write us at oe_in_the_ie@hotmail.com and tell us how close we came.