You know what hasn’t improved a lot in the last 14 years? My knees,paying taxes, meaningless wars, pulling out, worthless government, the horrors of office work, bat diseases, my sagging nutsack, Vladimir Putin, unrest in the Middle East. The cabal of misery known as the deli counter. These lab coat wearing autopsy school dropouts haven’t advanced a single shred of technology in the pursuit of advanced cheese mongering in decades. This is most likely the fault of the French, but how can we be sure? Honestly, deli cheese is completely fucked and I don’t even think the unholy offspring of Grok and ChatGPT could save it.
What in the mother fuck are they doing with the shit thin plastic bags they put the deli products in? Is this the best that we can do? Forget the fact that plastic is ruining the environment faster than Greta Thunberg is fucking up her hair. This bag is the pinnacle of human engineering? I can explore the surface of Uranus but that worthless piece of shit bag gets a hole in it the second you swinger mutherfuckers throw it in your pineapple strewn shopping carts? And those sadistic fuckwads at the S&M deli dungeon put the price sticker across the seal on the bag and there isn’t enough Harry Potter magic in the entire fuck-o-verse to undo that wiihout ripping a hole in the bag like the one in my drawers that my left nut falls out of all day. The seal on the bag is the back nine of navigating the deli hellscape. Things can go one of two ways, you can get the useless Ziploc knockoff yellow and green makes syphilis seal, or that fucking zipline thing that rips directly off the slide rail it lives on the second you touch it. Either way, the whitecoat deli devil is going to slap that fucking sticker right across that son-of-a-bitch and ruin your already delightful Monday morning packing school lunch for little Susie. So fuck you.
And when you finally slapped two fresh slices of white bread on the counter, lubed those Bimbo’s up with mayonnaise, and you’re ready to slide your meat in? Not so fast Johnny Sins, those cheese slices aren’t opening any easier than last night’s roast beef curtains. Cheese doesn’t just uncheese itself at your beck and call. That shit needs to be wined and dined. Those bitches need the perfect ambiance - too hot and they stick, too cold and they crumble, too thin and they can “do better”, too thicc and it’s hard to wrap your mouth around them. Wait, I lost my train of thought…what are we talking about again? Oh yeah, queso baby, perfect for torta pounding.
In parting, as you all exist in the shadow of my glory, I too stand on the shoulder of giants. Deli memes are sacred ground and I do not tread upon them lightly.
