In Which I Wax Poetic on Hamburgers

Hamburger you disgust me.

Hamburger I don’t care where you came from. I don’t know where to find you on a cow, or a horse or whatever else you may be made of. Secretly I find the mystery exciting.

Hamburger I know you’ve been getting fatter over the years but that’s alright. I had a brief affair with Subway and she’s been good to me, but you’ll always have more to love.

Hamburger you’re only good when I’m drunk. Well actually, I take that back. You’re always good but I only want you when I’m drunk.

Hamburger I think you should know that my ex hates you.

Hamburger I see you’re hanging out with Cinnabons now and I won’t judge you, but I worry for you. Because seriously those things look like sad pastries covered in jizz.

Hamburger why are you so delicious with coffee? It sounds like the worst breakfast ever but somehow there’s magic that combination that just works. But really, what the fuck is up with that?

Hamburger you’re the only one that cares for me at 4am when insomnia forces my eyes open with toothpicks. Well, there’s also my virtual girlfriend Momoyo-chan but I can’t actually eat Momoyo-chan.

Hamburger you complete me.