The Sandwich Conundrum

I make it a rule to only traverse a store within stores once every rise of the spirits and demons just beyond our sight.

This means about once every September or so (and Christmas, because every human is drawn to a mall at Christmas like a sea turtle to its birth beach).

Alas there was not much by the way of Halloween yet, and what existed was rather abysmal. Just some discounted and destroyed stuff at...but I get away from myself.

My point about malls is that in the no mans land, the middle aisles where people try to hock charcoal portraits of celebrities carved into wheat germ or other inane things, sometimes you see some of the most fist clenching crap.

Yesterday was no different as I came across one of the Broiest Bros who ever started calling all of his fellows Bras. And what was he hocking? All manner of douchebag T-shirts. Normally I encourage this thing, it makes it far easier to spot and tag those who should never have sex again.

But one caught my eye, ran straight to my brain, and kicked the rage gland.

"Shut up and Make Me a Sandwich."

Ah yes, the pedantic misogynistic equivalent of pull my finger. The joke boys have to tell to remind the world that they have a penis and are scared of anyone who doesn't.

Well I bottled my rage at this lazy gamer threat from a fear of boobs and responded in the only way I could think of.

 You should see just how creative I can get with a bread knife.

And because I can I put it up on a T-shirt as well.

Who's oh so droll now Mr. Bleeding all over the floor Sandwich boy? That's what I thought.

I wish I could explain why I made this but it's one of those I have no idea but here ya go: