You have great buns.
When you see your sandwich, you hear music.
You prefer the company of your sandwich to anyone else.
You wish people could be more like your sandwich.
Because your sandwich speaks to you in a way that people just don’t.
And you know that your sandwich feels drawn to you in the same way.
You can be yourself around your sandwich without being judged.
You are unwilling to compromise your relationship with your sandwich.
Sometimes you have nightmares about your sandwich dying tragically, and then your whole day is just off.
When you’re feeling bad about your career, you seek solace in the comforting arms of your sandwich.
You’d consider switching religions if your sandwich asked you to.
Sometimes you feel so much for your sandwich, it makes you angry.
You would never ever split your sandwich with someone else. You protect your sandwich.
You know the anatomy of your sandwich intimately.
You believe general sandwich knowledge should be passed on to future generations in the name of the greater good.
You would bring your sandwich to any occasion, classy or casual.
When you’re having a bad day, your sandwich is always there for you.
And no matter what, your sandwich always cheers you up.
Sometimes you find yourself zoning out at work, daydreaming about your sandwich.
To know you is to know your sandwich.
You have forged friendships because of a shared love of the sandwich.
And lost friendships, too.
You really feel that sandwiches are a part of you.
You get jealous when you see other people with sandwiches.
And sometimes the jealousy is too much to bear, and you have to act.
Because nothing stands between you and your sandwich.