I thought I loved you. Then you farted.

The Ham Sandwich Volume 4 #1 (May 23^rd, 2022)

Letter From The Writer, Creator, Ham Sandwich

Wow, the world was a different place from my perspective on the world when I started this...email-zine thing in the early 2000’s. I was just a budding ham, really trying to get into the full extent of Ham-hood (like manhood. Get it? (grumbling) God Damn it. No one Understands me.) The world was just at the start of really grinding me down as I started my dark decent into long term depression.

Well, now I return to spew my literary venom onto all 3...no 2...fine the single person that reads this because you are all sheep and no one knows originality when they see it, well except you, my one reader (Thank you). Anyway, I will start this off lightly, since it takes me forever to add any new content to this, now, online website, and not just email message that harshness all my old friends.

Enjoy.

Well, back to the article.

So there I was with a butt up my ass...wait a minute. Different story. Hold on, how do you get a butt up your ass? Never mind that frank. I am trying to writer something here.

Back to the article on...McDonald’s. Yeah, that’s what I am writing now. So anyway, I started my job in my threshold of High-School, believing I was worth nothing more than slave wages and I thought, what better place to work then the burger spewing land of make believe called McDonald’s. I should have known the hell I was in for as I was being interviewed with another degenerate that had to get a job to appease his parole officer. I was actually the only one doing this voluntarily. What the hell was wrong with me? I should have been afraid. After all I was a ham at a place selling “Ham”burgers! They might try to fry me and sell me off to the masses. But alas I was safe...for now.

During my first month I manage to somehow keep the job but the criminal degenerate went somewhere else and found more prosperous employment. Keep in mind this is not the McDonald’s you all know today where they offer retirement, collage tuition help and free abortions on site. This was the fast food slave factory of the 90’s. The owners didn’t give a shit about the employees and the managers were so proud of graduating “burger-college” that they looked down on us high-schoolers like a plantation owner looks down on his slaves. But the fun had not yet begun to start.

By some miracle of incompetence I went from worst employee to employee of the month at that place. (Don’t ask me how. I really didn’t try that hard. They must have run out of employees to give it to.) After that, I swiftly got all my other friends hired at the McDonald’s as I tried to change it to Ham-Land! This of course did not work out, but that was not before we all caused some havoc.

One of them managed to hold up the drive-thru line for several hours as he told each and every customer that it was David Letterman’s birthday. On the day of the health inspection we managed to drop rat poison on a pallet of buns, flood play-land and impregnate most of the girls working there with the secret sauce (the secret ingredient is semen and thousand island dressing, but mostly semen). We would blast Korn and Sugar-Ray during our shifts and fornicate with the oily burger buns. I must have fathered generations on little hams there and released them back into the wild.

Eventually I was fired. As the manger said, “we are sick of your shit.” as he let me go. Somehow all my friends had to actually quit to leave. My firing actually turned out to be a blessing as the Burger King across the street preferred fired employees of the McDonald’s and fast tracked me on the way to becoming a manager of anther ham distributing facility. So the Ham Sandwich won in the end.

So I guess the moral is… the moral is… aww fuck it! Eat Ham Burgers die young and… well I guess that’s it. Crap I’ve only accomplished one of those goals and it’s not eating hamburgers. I am not a cannibal. So I guess I died young. Wait. What?

Conclusion

So that’s it for now. I hope you all enjoyed the return...again, and are now relaxing in all my Hammy juices (Eww. That came out a little more disgusting than expected. (Other voice in my head): “Well then erase it and write something else.” (Yet another voice in my head), “NEVER!”)

Song of the day: A-B-C-D-E-F-you. I know it’s a petty song by a teenage girl, but aren't we all teenage girls on the inside or don’t we all want to be inside a teenage girl. Wait that came out wrong. Damn it. This site is going to be exhibit A at my trial, isn’t it.

Don’t forget to check back occasionally, as I hope to write more pointless drivel as I travel down the downward spiral into madness. Also tell you friends. If enough people read this, I may start a Facebook or Instagram account for the Ham Sandwich 2000. Fuck twitter!