White or Wheat?

Hello "Mind Readers," yes I have eight followers. Movin' on up! (Cue the Jefferson's theme song) No, I'm pretty excited we have about 400 views. Lets keep the momentum going. On a low note today I ran out of sandwich material so I decided to go all "Build-A-Bear" on my sandwich. The end result was an imitation crab-meat, green olive, Swiss cheese spread, and mustard gut-bomb. I instantly regretted my decision to consume this 5 cent footlong. Not even my hero Giada de Laurentiis could have salvaged my "Everyday Unemployment" meal (for those of you who don't watch the Food Network that is a reference to Giada's show "Everyday Italian").

What makes a sandwich a sandwich?.... There is an 83% chance whatever you said is wrong. The answer is bread, bread makes a sandwich. Speaking of bread I have an awesome story about this tasty wheaty miracle. At first glance it appeared to be a bread free night. My friends and I ate Chinese food for dinner. Then we headed to the ball park. Now if you ever go to a minor league baseball game on a Thirsty Thursday just assume things are going to go nuts at some point. I don't know if it was the Asian streaker, the funniest type of streaker, but crazy things started happening like I was in an M Night Shamalan movie. After the streaker, they stopped serving beers, and the announcer said, "Thanks to our sponsor Wonderbread for hosting this evenings activities. Don't forget to pick up your free loaf of bread on your way out." I didn't think things could get any crazier, then a midget in a clown suit punched me in the nads.

Despite my suspicions that the apocalypse was upon me, I knew I couldn't turn down a free loaf of bread. I got in line, and as I got closer to the front they started running out. I was really craving french toast, so when the guy in front of me looked to the side I cut him. Then I pulled a move like Aladdin in the marketplace and grabbed the last loaf. I quickly ran to my seat as a brawl broke out between a pregnant lady and a couple of geriatrics. The upper deck started clearing out, and I decided that I didn't really need to carry around a 98 cent loaf of bread. I ran down the aisle and threw the loaf to my friend. We started playing this incredible game of bleacher catch until my buddy threw the loaf down a few aisle too far. The white bread promptly hit the white head of a tatted-out guy. (I don't know if you have ever been hit by bread, but generally it is during a joyous occasion like a food fight, or standing in the front row of hot dog eating contest.) It was clear that this man had no joy, as he shot up in a roid-rage. He turned around threw the loaf of bread onto the field and screamed, "Who the hell hit me with processed wheat?" After his scary, yet accurate depiction of the events that had just transpired, we quickly exited the stadium. I escaped with my life, and that was the first time I pissed my pants due to bread.

Thanks for reading and remember the world is laughing at you so you better laugh back.

JHarp