Subway Shenanigans

Subway has this little option, to double anything. Sure it’s not blatantly advertised but their friendly staff more often than not grit their teeth and ‘politely’ ask, “Would you like to add anything else to that?”

Now during my lunch break, I was standing there pondering this.

Just, just bear with me for a second…

What if…

Are you listening?

What if…

I asked, for extra bread?

Not what you were expecting was it? No? Let me continue.

I normally get double cheese, this time….this time I wanted double roll! I’m not talking about a foot long as opposed to a 6inch, I am talking about a roll inside of a roll, topped with roll.

It began as a joke, a simple idea of “I want a double roll, half toasted, hall fresh. With mozzarella cheese in the middle.

Me, being me came to the wonderful conclusion of “this doesn’t have to be an idea! Let’s get that SH** happening!” So the next day on my next lunchbreak, magic was going to happen.

The girl asked me what I wanted, I said “I want a six inch, Italian herb and cheese, but I want you to put another six inch inside it.”

She stared for a few moments, I can only imagine she was baffled by my greatness, my fantastic idea. I’d get it patented and make a fortune off of fat people eating subs.

“I’m sorry..what…?”

Her confused voice broke my non egotistical stupor, I explained it to her again slowly. Using my hands to depict the perfect ‘shove some bread into some other bead’ action.

“Oh, well..you’ll be charged for a footlong.”

That was fine by me, so she went on with my demand, “fresh or toasted?”

I replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as she stepped back. “BOTH!”

“I…I can’t..what?” She was laughing now, perhaps she assumed I was joking, I was not. I put on my best Serious Business face, because I, in fact. Meant Business.

See?

“Ok, toast the outside…and leave the inside one fresh, but I want cheese attached to the outside one…the mozzarella one.” Again, I talked her through it waving my arms as though I was fluent in some sort of made up sign language. The person behind me, in line was annoyed. He cleared his throat, as businessmen do and said in a businessmen like way;

“You should be considerate of those behind you.”

I turned to him, he had ordered a footlong, I don’t care what was on it. I just stared at his sandwich, which he was going to have toasted too. I watched as she put his in at the same time as mine, I shrugged my shoulders, giving an insincere apology.

That part of the story had nothing to do with my magnificent creation, I just wanted to draw an annoyed looking businessman, I believe I have successfully failed at that.

Now onto the fresh part of the sub, I got peri-peri chicken, more cheese and the usual lettuce, carrot salt and pepper.

What no tomatoes?

F** tomatos, I don’t like them. They’re too wet. It’s like shoving a bucket of wet water on bread. Water that is wetter than normal water….

….F***ing tomatoes

In the end, she managed to complete my insane, fantastic multi million dollar idea sub. I wanted to give her a good review for her great effots but they had no review forms. I asked if her manager was in and she said no. I felt a little dismayed, how would she know how fantastic I felt? How she had become somewhat famous being the firt sandwich artisan to make.. to make…THIS:

Running out of ideas and time, I quickly yammered, “you gatta, comazi…yeh!” Whilst giving her a thumbs up.

She was less than appreciative.

I didn’t care.

I had the best thing ever created, even if it was hard to eat and I ended up discarding the crusty outer layer.

/end.

The 100 Circle Line

It was another slow day, the sun had only just risen and I had found myself carefully stepping between the cracks in the pavement as I approached the 'drop off point'. The place where a large metal vehicle would belch out a few lucky souls, only to have taken a few more.

I was one of these people. Destined to throw myself into the belly of the metallic beast. I liked to consider myself a brave and noble warrior. As I would dive in headfirst, eyes flaming with a brillant passion found only in those that have found enlightenment.

As I neared the little building, barely providing enough shelter for one against the harsh weather of this barren land, I noticed another and had to pause in my tracks for I had realized how sad a day this was.

There was another who was to be thrown to this beast. The evil of 100 Circle Line, how dare it take more than one life! The horid glutton! I wanted to revolt right then and there, to turn tail and run, but no. That was not the noble way of a warrior.

I took a deep breath and continued, standing next in line. The girl next to me, just a simple school girl, tapping her legs softly with a slight harmonic hum upon her lips, she seemed so blisfully unaware of the dangers she was facing, or perhaps she was an incredibly brave soul. She had a large bag upon her back, alikening her appearence to a sort of humpbacked animal, perhaps a very gorgeous camel, as she was quite the looker.

The 100 Circle line tends to like females, young supple females. I rarely ever see a male venture into this beast.

It pulled up beside us, roaring with the might of a thousand burley bearded warriors clad in aluminum foil. There is nothing more dangerous than a thousand burley bearded mean clad in aluminum foil, except maybe Courtney. Yet that is another story for another day, and I assure you, there will be a story. Thats right Courtney, read over my shoulder with your glittering eyes and yell my name in fear, fear of your secrets being exposed.

Because I love you.

The beast opened its doors to me, and I gave a whimper as I stepped on, the old man drained of his life stared back at me. The doors closed behind me with a thunderous clap, and I imagined a tin foil man snapping his tamborine with an almighty roar.

Why were the people on the Circle Line old and dreary? Did the beastly bus suck the life from them? Their very soul?

Only time would tell.

I gave myself a reassuring nod as I paid my fare, hoping and praying that I would survive the dance with the beast.

The unyielding terror that is...

The 10o Circle Line

crud on a stick of procrastinationm oozing with sloth

It has been too long.

TOO LONG.
about a week and a half? Perhaps two weeks?

A seemingly short amount of time in the big picture, but this is the internet, where daily gratification must be given.

since I have last updated, what has got me distracted?
what has happened?

Let's start off with a frolic in the park. The botanical gardens to be exact. It was there where I was dressed head to toe in pink shenanigans. Donning a scratch 'n' sniff T shirt with the sweet and heavenly scent of a strawberry sundae.

What's this? Pink? Shortcake? Strawberry sundaes? What's this all about!?

A pornographic strawberry party. A la' mind of a horny gay and a wonderful strawberry theme. Ah I wish I had a photo of my outfit, but alas a permanent picture of me wearing stripped socks and diamond stick on's under my brightly pink eyeshadowed eyes has escaped me. If anyone from the day has a photo of said outfit please by all means give a hoot and a holler.

The day proceeded with picnic goodness in the park, before me and my dear friend Courtney headed back to my house to pick up the cake I had made earlier, another thing I wish I took a photo of.

I also changed into a 'Miss Massage' outfit, courtesy of Bra's N Things and their massive sale.
The night was filled with laughter, fun, and of course alcohol, and a semi naked man bound in tape with whipped cream and strawberries on his nipples.

Yes. It was fun.
Now, rather than put a million things in the one journal entry I am going to split them up into a few entries and see how I go.

Remember, when discussing pornographic strawberry parties you may just attract porn stars.
That literally DID happen to me. They were wonderfully kind, but slightly disturbing.

What else happened to me?

Stay tuned to find out more.

Let's see a picture of that awesome nursey outfit eh?


Crappy cameara+crappy lightings=crappy photo