Posts Tagged “Onions”

The chicken.
Double meat please.
On Italian.
With Swiss cheese.

Look at this guy. Seriously.
How are you forty and making sandwiches for a career.
Do you even care that you’re extremely overweight?
You need shave buddy, get outside. Get some god damned exercise.
I wonder, does some one love you?

Uhmmm,
Light on the lettuce,
Tomatoes,
Cucumbers.
Yeah.
Green peppers.
Onions.
No. No pickles.
No hot peppers.

When you go home tonight is your bed empty?
Is there some one that needs you?
Probably not considering that you were just drooling over a magazine that was open to a page showing off the hottest new video cards.
Not with that half assed beard you have going, Jesus Christ do you even wash your face?
It’s probably hard to find some one that loves you when you smell like onions.
Brush you’re fucking teeth.

Nope, that’s everything.
Thanks
You too
Have a good weekend.

What if he’s a genius?
Imagine him devouring the great literary works of the twentieth century and burning them with the fury of his masterpiece: the single most important work of all time, a novel that answers all of life’s questions with poetic grace and linguistic perfection.
A mathematician.
Or a composer.
The second Christ!
Two thirty in the morning, in a dirty twenty four hour gas station and Jesus makes me a sandwich. While Mozart mops the floors.

Just as I leave the store.
Just as I step outside.
The bag breaks.
Splat.
The bag breaks and the sandwich wasn’t wrapped properly in the wax paper.
My sandwich is on the sidewalk.

You’ve gotta be fucking shitting me.

Hey, excuse me.
Yeah my bag broke just as walked outside and my sandwich fell on the ground.
Well I would like a new sandwich.
Please.
What? No it fell out of the wrapper, you didn’t wrap it properly. It’s all over the fucking ground.
It’s not your problem? What are you retarded? How hard is your fucking job? You didn’t wrap up my sandwich right; you put the sandwich in a bag with a hole in it.
I want a new sandwich.

Fuck you Mozart. Go pick up my sub.

Ask me to leave? You’re not Jesus. I want a new sandwich.
You sacrilegious son of a bitch.
Where do you think you’re going Mozart.
You’re not Mozart, you probably don’t even listen to music.
Seriously.
Make me another sub.

Stupid jerk faces with your stupid jerk attitudes.

Yeah.
Chicken.
Same as before.
Thank you.

Tags: Double Meat, Fucking Job, Gas Station, Green Onions, Green Peppers, Hot Peppers, Jesus Christ, Lettuce, Masterpiece, Mathematician, Mops, Mozart, Onions, Pickles, Sandwich, Sandwiches, Sidewalk, Son Of A Bitch, Swiss Cheese, Twentieth Century, Video Cards, Wax Paper