I have some pictures of sandwiches and stories that belong to them, but I can't find the cord that plugs in my pictures-machine to my blogs-machine, so I had to use this picture from the internet. It's apparently called "Ladyboy Sandwich: Susan and her new friends." Susan, what are you doing? Susan, you've got to put a stop to this! You don't even really look happy!
(There are boobs in this picture.)
Today was my last day at work and we had a big lunch from some Cuban place, and everyone got those Cuban sandwiches with ham, but they got me a veggie sandwich because some people in this town actually care.
The sandwich had tomatoes and portabellos and peppers and zucchini and some kind of sauce. It was good, but it was kind of soggy, but I still ate all of it and also a bunch of soggy french fries and then I felt really really sick. Even just thinking about it again, I sort of want to throw up and die. Because a sandwich is like a hand gun: it can be your best friend or your worst enemy. I guess I've always known that.