Whether they're called "potato puffs", "croquettes", or even "potato royals" in Australia, one thing about tater tots remains constant: comparing their regional names highlights Australia's silly monarchial heritage! they're delicious. So praise the Queen, or whatever they have there, because Tot Boss is about to hit the streets.

Hoping to soft launch in St Paul next week (and officially, May 1st), the all-black, all-tot truck is dishing out -- in addition to the basic order of 24 homemade tots with dipping sauces like buffalo, chipotle ranch, and BBQ -- insane special-tots like:

Bacon-Wrapped TTs: This gluttonous recipe wraps deep-fried tots in a slab of the good stuff, then deep-fries them again, so they're sort of like the Russian nesting dolls of arterial clogging.

TT Nachos: A mean stack-o-tots gets viciously drowned in nacho cheese, seasoned beef, onions, lettuce, tomatoes, sour cream, salsa, and jalapeños.

Tots 'n' Beef Burrito Basket: These are basically just the Nachos ingeniously wrapped in a flour tortilla, which's perfect for food truck patrons who dropped their fork in the road.

Tots 'n' Dogs Basket: Not just the next cutest internet meme ever, this number dumps a helping of mini corndogs into a basket of the fried gems.

Mama's Tater Tot Hotdish: The tot de resistance, Boss's take on the infamous MN-casserole catch-all is covered with "golden tots", so eat a few of these caloric servings, and ensure you never get Adelaide again.

They say that sports are 90% mental, so stop playing them immediately: you don't want to make your brain any more appetizingly swollen, because next month's Run For Your Lives Zombie 5K is fast approaching.

Turning a serene motocross track just outside of Millville (approx 1.5hrs SE of civilization) into the epicenter of the world's most physically fit zombie apocalypse, RFYL is a first-time-in-Minnie 5K involving running from the moaning grasp of the living dead. The "zombies", which may or may not actually be volunteers wearing rags and face paint, will be snatching at the three flags on your "health belt", but otherwise not permitted to make any physical contact; make it through with at least one left and you'll be awarded a survival medal, along with the knowledge that had this been the real apocalypse, you would have survived long enough to live on rats in the forest while pondering how everyone you've ever loved has died. Unlike San Fran in the late '60s, hills and Deadheads aren't the only thing that'll be making your life terrible: you'll also have to contend with 12 obstacles including a “sewage system” filled w/ mud and trash, a series of fences (way scarier than they sound!), and, umm, "maybe some blood."

After the race, winners, losers, and brain-eaters alike will be invited to chillax at the Apocalypse Party, which'll have food, bands, beers, and even camping, as driving back to the cities afterwards would be totally mental.

Proving she's actually the boss: the chef/owner of Mona, who's now opening her own spot after paying dues at NYC's Aquavit & L'Atelier de Joel Robuchon, and, more recently, Corner Table. The chef-driven 100-seater's serving American small plates amidst classic dark woods, tufted leather booths, and splashes of ornate wallpaper, which should be the only thing getting plastered here -- it's a classy place! Use discretion while enjoying:

The Food: An open kitchen (with counter seating) is cooking localness ranging from an elk rib eye with fries & hollandaise, to a chicken liver pate sammie with bleu cheese and rhubarb compote, to chicken & waffles, all of which can be bolstered with house-cured bacon, so it must have been suffering from a bad case of not having anything charming to watch weekdays at 7p.

The Drink: A regal island bar wants desperately to wet your whistle with the uber-local Big Ginger (MinneSoda ginger ale and 2 Gingers Irish Whiskey), food-focused wines, and eight craft taps like Rush River Amber, Furthermore Fatty Boombalatty©, and Victory Pils, or what Sammy Sosa longingly calls steroids.

And, a month from now, capacity'll skyrocket as they open a courtyard-esque patio that's tucked away from the bustle of the street, perfect for those looking to sitcom-ly.

Past generations recognized that you needn't always rely on the vice of alcohol to have fun -- just look at hula-hooping, sock hops, or flesh-cleaving gladiatorial combat. For a St. Paul shop challenging you to enjoy something historical and wholesome, hilariously lindy hop your way down to Lynden's Soda Fountain.

Run by the child of a one-time soda jerk, white-washed Lynden's gets vintage with white marble counters, a wall of candy jars, and a completely refurbished vintage Stanley Knight Fountain recovered from a church basement, where it'd likely been made to repent for serving vanilla and chocolate together in the '50s. Said fountain'll pour 1919 Root Beer from a dedicated tap, plus P&H Soda Company carbonaters like hibiscus, sarsaparilla, and cream soda w/ Tahitian vanilla, as well as traditional egg creams (chocolate, maple, vanilla), and cherry, lime, or chocolate phosphates made with actual acid phosphate, so drink one, and it's literally your phate. They've also got new and old-style candies (from Necco Wafers to Sugar Daddies), and Wisconsin Chocolate Shoppe ice cream that they'll be using to make customizable floats & malts, not to mention classics banana splits and vanilla/ Spanish peanuts/chocolate fudge Tin Roof Sundaes, or as people in the third world call them, sundaes.

Lynden's only hint at modernity is a stockpile of state-of-the-art Italian coffee gear, which they employ in making Dogwood-supplied craft espressos, Americanos, and drips, something the hole-filled bodies of gladiators long ago proved to be enjoyable.

Being super slow isn't usually something to brag about, unless you're Usher, or like, an usher at a wedding, and there're old people leaning on your arm. Apparently it's also a great thing when you're making roast beef, at least according to Bloomy's.

Officially launching Saturday, gray & white Bloomy's is MSP's first fully kitchened mobile eatery, slinging mucho beef that's locally sourced, contains no additives (save their signature blend of spices), and is ultra-slow-cooked daily in the back of the truck, so hopefully the whole production doesn't hit any speed bumps. Their supreme meatiness comes in the form of roast beef sammies like the French Dip, the Longhorn (smoked cheddar, BBQ sauce), and the smoked bacon/ cheddar Smokey Beef, also what that Bandit just couldn't let slide. They also plate a full-on "Bloomy's Platter" which actually doesn't include a tasteful selection of Burberry scarves, but rather consists of an open-faced sammie with mashed potatoes and gravy; and you can amp up anything with hearty sides like coleslaw, chili, creamy mac, fries, and tots.

If you simply detest ingesting roast beef amongst strangers, no worries: they're also more than willing to drive to your office parking lot or backyard get-together -- just prepare for your friends and co-workers to eat so much that everyone needs help sitting down.