After a fourteen year love affair with the foot-long sandwich I am officially dumping it's ass. There comes a time in every man's life when he asks himself, "Am I getting anything out of this relationship that satisfies my hunger and/or sexual desire?"
Well, I definitely got something alright, but unfortunately it was a Pot Belly (with some extra large Love Handles, am I right?... OMG that's sooo funny). But seriously, I also received the gift of herpes. On my junk. Yeah I worried about STDs but I never thought I would actually catch anything... but catch I did... like a sacrifice fly in the bottom of the 9th inning which brought home the go-ahead run. I caught it like a left hook to the chin in the 12th round which introduced my face to the mat. I caught it like a case of jock itch after the community towel makes it's way through the football locker room (which also happens to be a good way to catch genital herpes I may add).
What sucks though, is now I have to end my relationship with pickles too. I wish I didn't have to... but I do. The only time I have pickles is when I have a sandwich... kinda of a menage-a-trois thing really. Man, there are things pickles can do that I didn't even know were possible. Seriously, pickles are truly crazy. I had pickles in the movie theater once. I also had pickles in the basement of my jr. high school. I even had pickles (multiple times) in the mens room... on an airplane!
(Sigh)
Oh well. It was fun while it lasted. But now I have more important things to worry about. Like... how am I gonna get rid of these terrible sores? And what am I gonna eat for lunch? And... how am I gonna support a little 6-inch of my own? Didn't I tell you? My sandwich is pregnant.
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