Sandwiches
I was going to do a post on American men, but I've decided that there is no way to be objective about it, so I'm going to save that rant for never, possibly. No matter how I put it out there, someone's going to decide I'm a Femi-Nazi, and I'm not in the mood for that, because I've known many nice American guys (and do). The trouble is, I think too many of them are socialized to be self-important self-absorbed wankers who don't have enough respect for females in general, and the bitter pill of male-female relationships is too large for me to swallow at present. I'd rather keep taking Valerian, frankly.
So I thought I'd talk about sandwiches instead. It's only natural, right?
I'm not a big fan of sandwiches. Bread is always so dry, and there's never enough peanut butter around when you need it. Peanut butter has a mysterious way of disappearing, like there's a vortex out there expressly designed to suck it into oblivion. The only good sandwich I've ever really had was at a place called The Everyday Gourmet in Takoma Park, MD. Best sandwiches in the world! Fresh bread, delicious cheeses, nice cold cuts, charming presentation for you aesthetic types, and a nice little fake waterfall thingie in the window. I used to sit there and stare out the window, hoping Jesus would walk by, or maybe the reincarnation of Jim Morrison. Possibly, Jim could come back as Jesus, but that's my fantasy alone, I know. Sniff.
Anyway, sandwiches are not the first things I reach for. Now, sometimes a bologna sandwich on whole wheat with tomato (thin slice: big tomato slices repel me) with some mayonnaise is fetching. And Subway puts out a good sandwich, but by the time I order it I'm fucking exhausted, like I've just run a verbal marathon. Too much work ordering a sandwich there. And anyway, that's a SUB sandwich, not a flat little sandwich like the kind you got in your lunchbox, until some nasty nun came along who hadn't had sex in fifteen years and decided she wanted it, instead! And her big meaty paw comes OUT and BAM, she grabs it and chows it down like she hasn't eaten in fifteen years.
Did I mention I fear imminent psychosis?
Anyway, sandwiches really ARE nice things, but they're tricky to pull off. Fresh bread is the key here, that and fresh ingredients, and ensuring the tomato slices aren't huge, beastly, repulsive things, wet soggy flesh laying limply against my bologna. Why people love tomatoes so much confuses me, especially when you can have something else, instead.
I re-read the thing about soggy flesh laying limply against my bologna. Maybe I'm the repressed one here.
I go off to make my sandwich. Amen.
Papa, can you hear me?
So I thought I'd talk about sandwiches instead. It's only natural, right?
I'm not a big fan of sandwiches. Bread is always so dry, and there's never enough peanut butter around when you need it. Peanut butter has a mysterious way of disappearing, like there's a vortex out there expressly designed to suck it into oblivion. The only good sandwich I've ever really had was at a place called The Everyday Gourmet in Takoma Park, MD. Best sandwiches in the world! Fresh bread, delicious cheeses, nice cold cuts, charming presentation for you aesthetic types, and a nice little fake waterfall thingie in the window. I used to sit there and stare out the window, hoping Jesus would walk by, or maybe the reincarnation of Jim Morrison. Possibly, Jim could come back as Jesus, but that's my fantasy alone, I know. Sniff.
Anyway, sandwiches are not the first things I reach for. Now, sometimes a bologna sandwich on whole wheat with tomato (thin slice: big tomato slices repel me) with some mayonnaise is fetching. And Subway puts out a good sandwich, but by the time I order it I'm fucking exhausted, like I've just run a verbal marathon. Too much work ordering a sandwich there. And anyway, that's a SUB sandwich, not a flat little sandwich like the kind you got in your lunchbox, until some nasty nun came along who hadn't had sex in fifteen years and decided she wanted it, instead! And her big meaty paw comes OUT and BAM, she grabs it and chows it down like she hasn't eaten in fifteen years.
Did I mention I fear imminent psychosis?
Anyway, sandwiches really ARE nice things, but they're tricky to pull off. Fresh bread is the key here, that and fresh ingredients, and ensuring the tomato slices aren't huge, beastly, repulsive things, wet soggy flesh laying limply against my bologna. Why people love tomatoes so much confuses me, especially when you can have something else, instead.
I re-read the thing about soggy flesh laying limply against my bologna. Maybe I'm the repressed one here.
I go off to make my sandwich. Amen.
Papa, can you hear me?
posted by lakeofthelongsun72 at 9:18 AM
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