I am a human. A human who likes, nay, loves, nachos. This makes me the best kind of human around, one with a good taste in things that taste good. Listen, I could type you out a history of the nacho, how Ignacio Anaya created them back in 1943 to appease some ravenous ladies who descended on his restaurant, how the food came to the US and became all the rage, but that’s all stuff you can read on wikipedia and I’ll probably bring up in essays later. The number one thing that matters is that nachos are delicious. Whether you are young or old, famous or infamous, proletariat or bourgeoisie, grotesque or arabesque, nachos are the food for you and your loved ones.