Retro Relapse: Ladies, I’m Not That Guy

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

I’m not going to start this with some disclaimer to overly placate to the easily offended or apologize for what I haven’t even said yet. Most of you probably won’t like what I have to say but I don’t care. You’d prefer honesty over pussy bullshit, right? Well probably not, which is why things have gotten to the point where I deem such a blog entry necessary.

Ladies, I am not your white fucking knight. Nor do I want to be. In fact, that guy doesn’t exist and I’d hate to break it to you but neither does Prince Charming. Disney lied to you; get over it. Of course, that doesn’t mean that some guys don’t try to put themselves in that role, albeit miserably.

The men of yore are dying or at least they’ve been hit with a genocidal level of complete emasculation. This is due to a combination of things but feminism, not the ideal but the movement, has been the biggest contributor to this loss of badass grizzly motherfuckers. Deadbeat dads are to blame too but I’ll write on that topic another day.

I understand what was the need for feminism and female pride and a fight for what should be considered and valued as equal; I support that myself. Where the problem lies however, is in the fact that what the feminist movement wants in its extremist position isn’t an equality of sexes per se, it is domination. Domination to the point where men are no longer men, women are the ruling class and we’ll have to reproduce via petri dishes because the government will have classified all sex as rape. Men would be deemed unfit as parents, their sperm would be property of the state and women would pick out their clothes. To many embracing the militant feminist ideal, this is what they envision as justice for their victimization. The victim becomes the oppressor because apparently one injustice needs to be rectified with a larger injustice.

Sure, these are extreme examples but they aren’t that far outside of reality with how these women feel and how our society is being indoctrinated with their feminist bullshit. You don’t believe that point? Well look at how many men are no longer men. Guys spend their time placating to girls incessantly. Their entire existence and thought process from the moment they wake up each day is centered around “the hunt”.

However, the hunt isn’t what it used to be where women were out trying to attract the best beau – not that that was a great formula either. I hate to generalize but nowadays it is dude’s standing in the corner of a bar, bobbing their heads, hoping that some girl will come talk to them because they walk on eggshells trying not to offend women with their advances or they are so afraid of them they don’t know how to just walk up to one and talk. Yes, there are guys who don’t give a shit and have no reservations about walking up to a woman and spitting their game. In many cases those guys are douchebags; in other cases they are good guys but that is becoming a rare thing. In retrospect, this is probably why women to a big degree get caught up in douchebags and drama because good guys are seemingly less accessible and all they are approached by are “pigs” – their words, not mine. And frankly, good guys are sick of that “all men are pigs” sentiment because it isn’t true.

What needs to be realized, is that there are guys that fit the good guy mold but choose not to play the game and have just opted out. Ladies, you probably can’t find them or don’t even notice them because they aren’t competing for your attention 24/7 and flashing you their glorious plumage. They’re not douchebags and they aren’t the weakling saps who you’ve labeled, cataloged and organized onto your “friend zone” shelf. These are guys that know what they want, do what they want and really don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about it. That doesn’t make them assholes, that just makes them self-assured and strong, confident men – something that should be applauded among the free-thinking individuals of the world.

On a personal level, when it comes to women, I want someone that has the same qualities I just talked about regarding the type of man above. Someone who is confident, strong and free-thinking. Someone who sees the folly of trying to eliminate masculinity and demonizing it but also doesn’t try to wrap guys around their finger and use them for whatever they see fit because they feel that it is justice being served or they just don’t know anything different because weakling saps pledge their allegiance to them the moment they develop semen. To be honest, I don’t blame women for acting this way. But that also doesn’t mean that I have to accept it as just a part of life. I see it as inherently wrong and hypocritical. In my life, I don’t accept it. When confronted with it, I usually call the girl out.

There are a lot of guys I have talked to lately who feel similar. There is a growing number of men who just don’t care about playing the game anymore and would rather direct their energy into more fruitful pursuits. Being one of those men, I feel that whether most of us realize it or not, it is one of the consequences of this world that the feminist movement has shaped. No we don’t hate women but we aren’t going to be bullied or mistreated by them either, as women shouldn’t be bullied or mistreated by men. At the end of the day, I don’t care and I can’t devote that much time to it. Time and energy are limited and I’d rather not waste either.

You see, it’s about working together not against one another and speaking not just for myself, I don’t think many of us care about the battle or what one side of the coin feels that they have to prove. We’re not all bigots and assholes and because of that, refuse to be treated as such or to harbor some sort of male guilt, causing us to be total pussies because being who we really are isn’t seen as politically correct or attractive anymore. Moral of the story, we don’t fucking care.

As far as I personally feel, at least right now, I don’t want to ever get married, I don’t want to get a girl pregnant and I want the freedom to do what I want to do. That doesn’t mean that I’m selfish or incapable of compromise, it just means that I have needs of my own that must be met. As far as marriage, being a man, I don’t see the point. Marriage is a lose/lose situation for men with the ways the laws have evolved and heavily favor the woman. Same thing goes for child custody. This doesn’t mean I am against a lifelong relationship or turned off by women who already have kids. But call me a “man child” or whatever bullshit derogative terms you have because that is easier than understanding some oppressive man’s diatribe about his point-of-view.

I now look around and see that more men are coming to similar realizations. Our attitudes are shifting because they have to. You get to a point when that survival instinct kicks in and it is happening. I see this as a good thing because truth is better than some manufactured societal lie about what men are now supposed to be. To those “men” apologizing for their kind, fuck you – you are part of the problem and are just fucking yourselves and all of us, really. I don’t expect a woman to apologize for her shit. If they’re assholes I just keep walking and don’t give them the time of day.

While men and women as vast groups may never truly understand each other at a core physiological and psychological level, individuals can understand one another. As long as there is that respect between you and your partner, that is really all that you need. There’s no gender war or at least there doesn’t need to be. Just be who you are and respect who others are too. But until that happens on a larger scale, women can enjoy their douchebags and pussies and those of us who don’t have the time to give a shit can work on being the badass motherfucking grizzlies we were born to be.

Funny enough, I always find someone when I’m not even trying.

‘Follow Your Passion’ Is Bullshit

*The Bullshit Series started on an older blog but I wanted to bring these articles back here, as I have new installments for the series that I want to release over time. The series focuses on things that I think are bullshit… like filet mignon, Zubaz pants, the Pro Bowl and diets.

*Written in 2015.

We’ve all heard it before, probably while in a rut too. Some famous know-it-all enlightened asshole with a platinum album at an awards show says it about two dozen times in a two-hour span. In fact, it is one of the trendiest things to say nowadays. People who haven’t even accomplished anything all that great like to espouse this nonsense as well. If everyone is saying it and it is found in endless memes, it must be true.

The nonsense I am talking about is the mantra “follow your passion.”

For starters, don’t tell me what the fuck to do. Also, shut the fuck up because you don’t know me or really what’s inside of anyone else and what they have been through and what they are currently going through. “Follow your passion” isn’t the answer to all of life’s problems and in fact, it can be horrible fucking advice. People are suckers for horrible fucking advice.

This marketing slogan for life resonates with people because it is simple and daring and thus, perceived as profound. It doesn’t matter that this seemingly profound enlightenment has become so common place that I have to scroll through it a half dozen times in my Instagram feed every morning.

Sure, following your passion can lead to great things and you may end up happy, successful and with everything you want. It may also leave you broke, confused, worse off than you were if you had just kept your job and pissed off at the universe because you followed pop culture’s sagely advice and aren’t a billionaire zen Buddhist with a house full of angeldust and passed out prostitutes.

I’m all for doing what makes you happy. That is kind of the point of life. In fact, people often try to figure out what the meaning of life is. I don’t know why that is so difficult. The meaning of life is pretty simple. The meaning of life is to LIVE IT. That’s it.

You have a life, now fill it with what makes you happy. But you also need to be realistic. So, here comes the part no one wants to hear, especially when “follow your passion” sounds so fucking cool.

There has to be a balance. Most of us aren’t talented like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was talented. We can follow our passion but that doesn’t mean that we will have success. And the thing is, not everyone’s passion is a money maker. My passion is eating ribeye, drinking bourbon, having as much sex as possible and telling people to fuck off. What exactly can I do with that to make some serious money?

Additionally, many people, and I would say most, don’t have a real passion. And by real passion, I mean something that calls them to the point that it burns in their belly. We aren’t all singers and actors and great writers. Hell, most of us suck at arts, crafts, building things and pretty much a whole lot of other cool shit.

My passions are about eating good meat and putting my penis in something and that’s probably because I don’t have a real burning desire to do anything else. And again, this is most people. The vast majority of Earth’s population weren’t born for some mystical purpose with a Frodo Baggins destiny to fulfill. The world isn’t Middle Earth or a galaxy full of Jedi. We aren’t meant to drink from the Holy Grail, we are meant to live our lives and to try and enjoy it as much as we can in the limited time we’re given.

For most people, a passion is a hobby they like doing. For many, doing a hobby as a job is a horrible idea. Let me give a few personal examples.

A friend of mine loved cooking amazing food, as a paid chef in a fine restaurant, he hates it. He told me that he regretted that big life decision because it ruined what he once loved.

In my case, I went to school for computer programming because I enjoyed fucking around with code in high school. A semester and a half into college, it dawned on me that I didn’t want to write code for the next thirty years of my life.

Moving forward, I have always been creative and artistic and found myself working in that field. I now do graphic design and other artistic stuff for a living but I am not happy doing it – I am just really good at it. And maybe I am naturally an artist but it isn’t my passion. I just happen to have a high skill level, the talent and at the end of the day, it pays me well enough. And I’m not sure what I could do better.

That brings me to the other old adage that often accompanies “follow your passion” and that is “do what you love.” Both mean the same thing but the point is, doing what you love isn’t a key to happiness. Sometimes, doing what you love makes you love it less.

My friend is a chef because he needs to pay bills. I am a professional artist for the same reason. In both cases, what we love to do has become a curse of sorts.

When my friend cooks for himself and his family and friends, he is happy. When I am creative for myself, I am happy. But doing these things as a job is a totally different scenario. And if they were pretty hardcore passions, they have certainly lost their luster.

Contrary to popular belief, most people don’t have preexisting passions. Additionally, happiness in the workplace is quantified by many factors other than personal interests and passion. I like that I get three weeks off every year, to use that time to focus on whatever I want to without interruption. I also like that my job allows plenty of free time so I can dabble in more things that actually interest me. Plus there is a lot of freedom at my place of employment that I wouldn’t have elsewhere. These are happiness factors that work for me.

Also, sometimes a passion happens later. We may not know what we love because we haven’t experienced it yet. I often times joke that I could be the best golfer in the world but I’ll never know because I don’t have much interest in golfing. But if I golfed and found out that I had that skill, a new passion could flourish. This is why I always like trying new things outside of my comfort zone. But really, I have no interest in golfing despite my amazing putt-putt skills.

Elaborating on that, passion doesn’t necessarily exist naturally and often times it takes hard work and cultivation. And sometimes, passion can be born from cultivating a skill set that you initially didn’t have much interest in until you had to do it.

A personal example of this, is that I recently had to confront an engineering issue with a product in my company. Everyone was baffled at how to make the product function properly. I took it apart, analyzed it and figured out how to modify it mechanically. I found out that I really liked solving this problem and discovered a passion for mechanical engineering that I never knew I had because I had never been confronted with it. Now I love taking on these sorts of tasks and if I had a time machine, I might go back and tell my younger self to follow that path. Not that I can’t follow it now.

But there is no guarantee that I would enjoy mechanical engineering as my actual primary job.

As time moves on, people change and grow and with that, their passions may alter. I was passionate about a lot of different things in the past that I am not passionate about now. At first I wanted to be a firefighter, then a G.I. Joe, then a mad scientist, then a comic book artist, then a rapper, then a computer programmer, then an MMA fighter, then a gigolo, then a paid artist. Point is, shit changes.

So lets be adults here. “Follow your passion” all you want but you have to make money to survive. If you are a special breed that can do what you love for a living and find happiness in that, good for you. But for the rest of us, we have to take care of living expenses, families and other things.

Does that mean you ignore your passions?

No, not at all. Unless you are chained to your desk for 168 hours per week, you have free time to spend however you want. If you don’t have free time, maybe you need to find a job that allows you to have a life away from work. The secret isn’t following your passion, it is work/life balance. With proper balance, your passions can flourish.

Now if your passions start to make you money, enjoy it. But keep your damned job until you know you’re alright financially. Quitting tomorrow because you have a burning desire to paint trees is probably a bad life decision.

I’m all about passion but I am about setting goals, preparing and having a plan of attack. I’m not telling you not to take risks but just like “follow your passion” is mostly bullshit, so is “risk equals reward.” While great reward can be born from taking a risk, there is no guarantee. It is called risk for a reason and it is better to be prepared and to know what you are walking into than to just leap off of a cliff into the fog below.

“Follow your passion.” Sorry, life is too complex for that.

Go ahead and make your life meaningful, we all should strive for that. Just don’t be an idiot.

Retro Relapse: Full English Breakfast: The Fuel of An Empire

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2010.

It should be no surprise, at this point, how much I love waffles or breakfast food for that matter. So one particular breakfast item that I’d like to talk about and pay homage to, as my homie Greg calls it, is a “proper” full English breakfast. The Red Coats definitely created one of the greatest feats in the history of mankind when they assembled this culinary miracle.

The “proper” full English breakfast is comprised of many fine treats and can be presented with several different options. Generally, it is served with two eggs (I like 3-4 myself), “proper” English bacon (which is different than American bacon), fried tomatoes, fried mushrooms, toast, “proper” English sausage (which is much larger than American sausage) and black pudding. Some versions come with baked beans in tomato sauce, some variation of potato and other vegetables. The breakfast is usually accompanied by “proper” British tea (hopefully free of tariffs).

After discovering this awesome monster of a breakfast meal, I now realize why the Red Coats were so hard to defeat during the American Revolution. I wouldn’t want to fight anyone with a full breakfast in their stomach. It is no wonder why the British were able to nearly take over the entire world. That’s why I am glad that they are now our ally and we have the luxury of sharing our breakfast food with each other. Between full breakfasts in the UK and Waffle Houses in the US, there is nothing our two peoples cannot accomplish.

I’m sure the British swashbucklers used to eat these everyday, no matter what side of the law they were on. Full English breakfasts have been known to quicken swordplay, increase jumping height, enhance acrobatics as well as making someone literally impervious to musket balls. Merlin actually existed and was powered by full English breakfasts and the blood of trolls, whose blood was used to make black pudding before they became extinct. Now they just make black pudding with the blood of pigs and cows; I guess dragons and orcs are hard to find. King Arthur, the greatest warrior king ever, used to bathe in full English breakfasts for hours. Excalibur was forged in the same fires where the first full English breakfast was cooked.

If only the British could properly harness the power of the “proper” full English breakfast, as they did before troll extinction, they might have the power to destroy all evil in the world! If the whole world ate “proper” full English breakfasts, than we’d all be liberated and powerful yet peaceful due to the spiritual balance that the meal brings at the start of the day.

Sorry, I’ve been writing this while drunk on a “proper” full English breakfast. But it could also be the bottle of Scotch I just used to rinse out my liver.

The McDonald’s Double Drive-Thru Is Bullshit

*The Bullshit Series started on an older blog but I wanted to bring these articles back here, as I have new installments for the series that I want to release over time. The series focuses on things that I think are bullshit… like filet mignon, Zubaz pants, the Pro Bowl and diets.

*Written in 2015.

The McDonald’s double drive-thru is bullshit. It is a clusterfuck of biblical proportions. Seriously, whose idea was this? I’d like to meet them.

Okay, let us look at this objectively and in theory. In theory, in a perfect world, this is probably a fairly decent idea. It allows McDonald’s to process orders more quickly because obviously they are struggling financially and need more money. But really that is only the real benefit I see.

And what good is processing orders, or really just taking orders, at a faster rate considered more efficient when the split line has to merge back together?

Okay, the idea is actually crap in theory.

Here’s the real problem. McDonald’s really overestimates the logic and patience of human beings. They also overestimate their acceptance of change and learning new things.

One, people are generally morons. Two, people resist change. Put both of those things together and you get the mess that I have to deal with every time I just want to grab a Sausage McMuffin and a shitty iced coffee because I am too lazy to make my own breakfast.

What I usually deal with is people who aren’t sure where to split the line because the arrows are just suggestions and not a law punishable by Mayor McCheese and Officer Big Mac.

So we get impatient dickheads who swerve out of the long line violently and cut several cars to get to the second lane before the suggested traffic split. It creates tension and road rage. People who try to follow the rules and be orderly are fucked over by self-absorbed pricks who can’t wait an extra few seconds for a McFlurry.

Then when the cars are supposed to merge back together, people don’t seem to understand how this works. I constantly see people yelling and beeping their bitch horns because they are already pissed off and think that the other person is trying to cut in front of them again. People don’t understand that the line should merge back together in the sequence of completed orders. If you finish your order, you are in front of the other person still talking into the monitor. It is pretty simple but it is still over many people’s heads.

Also, McDonald’s is squeezing this concept into every location possible. The two McDonald’s locations closest to me don’t really have room for it. It is really hard to navigate in limited space, especially when other people trying to just move around the drive-thru, who aren’t in it, can’t get through or have to enter the drive-thru traffic because they are stuck just trying to get out of the parking lot.

A double drive-thru doesn’t need to be rocket science but it is because people don’t know how to use it, even after a few years.

And the worst are the assholes who aren’t paying attention and hold up their half of the line, allowing people to cut in and screw up the sequence of orders to be picked up.

This article doesn’t need to be long, the point has been made. But apparently there are “studies” that claim McDonald’s bullshit drive-thru experiment works. They are probably the same “scientists” that claim that clowns aren’t terrifying. Hence, they are on McDonald’s clown-loving payroll.

I could just park and order inside but then again, people don’t know how to form a line there either.

I think line forming was the first thing I learned in school.

Fast food should be convenient. McDonald’s has now made it the equivalent of trying to board an overbooked flight.

Retro Relapse: Chick-Fil-A: A Swashbucklingly Good Breakfast

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2010.

Chick-Fil-A is pretty tits all around. Their nuggets are pretty awesome, their sandwiches are on point and they may have the greatest cole slaw next to KFC’s (it’s a toss up).

However, where they truly excel at is breakfast. Ignoring the fact that they don’t offer waffles, Chick-Fil-A is the greatest establishment for breakfast via a drive-thru window. Everything that they have for breakfast is pretty damn choice. I’ve yet to have an item that was just… meh.

My favorite thing is definitely the sausage, egg and cheese biscuit. This is the best breakfast sandwich available that I’ve ever had access to. The biscuits are perfect, the egg is just the right amount, the cheese is well… cheese and the sausage patty is damn near perfect. Being thicker than most patties on fast food breakfast sandwiches, the sausage is just the right size and just the right flavor. It’s not overpowering like sausage from Burger King or McDonald’s. It also compliments the mixture of egg, biscuit and cheese perfectly. This sandwich literally melts in your mouth and is unrivaled in the fast food industry, as far as I am concerned.

My next favorite item is the hashbrowns. The only complaint I have of these, is that I wish you got more (which is why I always order two). The Chick-Fil-A hasbrowns are usually always fried just right and are extra crunchy. The oil they use gives them a better flavor and they almost taste cleaner and less greasy than the competition’s sorry excuse for hashbrowns. The only thing that may throw off the non-hashie connoisseur is the fact that the hashbrowns are like Burger King’s in shape: kind of like tater tots or crowns. I like this shape of hashbrown, however, and Chick-Fil-A does them the best.

Other notable items are the chicken biscuit and the bacon, egg and cheese biscuit. Both of these I have had and have thoroughly enjoyed. The chicken biscuit is better than the cheap knockoffs that BK and Mickey D’s tried to come out with a few years back. In fact, any other fast food chain with a chicken biscuit should be slapped with a lawsuit. The bacon, egg and cheese biscuit is nearly as good as its counterpart: the sausage, egg and cheese biscuit. But again, I am a bigger fan of the sausage one.

When it comes down to it, most swashbucklers prefer Chick-Fil-A. They are friendly to our kind and most of them have sweet ball pits. Although, most swashbucklers are too big for the ball pit according to their lame sign. In any event, Chick-Fil-A is still pretty awesome, especially for breakfast.

The only downside is that I only seem to crave Chick-Fil-A on Sundays. Well, they are closed on Sunday because Jesus doesn’t like to eat after church or something like that. I think they should be open and that they are losing a lot of business by not being open. Hell, what do I know. I’ve never owned a business unless you count that time that I was selling Japanese wrestling tapes out of my grandmum’s garage. I was banking some sweet cash back then!

Big Sunglasses Are Bullshit

*The Bullshit Series started on an older blog but I wanted to bring these articles back here, as I have new installments for the series that I want to release over time. The series focuses on things that I think are bullshit… like filet mignon, Zubaz pants, the Pro Bowl and diets.

*Written in 2014.

You may be reading the title of this post and be thinking, is he serious? Yes, I am pretty damned serious here. So why the hate for larger sunglasses? Well, that’s what I’m here to explain.

To start, this is for the ladies. I don’t care so much if a dude is wearing large sunglasses. If he is, I have to wonder about his overall masculinity but I’m not in the business of wanting to shag dudes, so I don’t really care if he wants to look like an idiot. He can keep his large sunglasses and skinny jeans in the corner with his other dude bros trying to out-sex each other while preying on 17 year-olds at Spring Break.

Moving on, let’s talk about your big sunglasses, ladies.

For one thing, they are too fucking big and cover up like 75 percent of your face. I don’t know how this is considered attractive and sexy and how this became the norm. I get it though, they block out more sun. Well, that’s the excuse anyway. The fact that they cover your entire face and are a gigantic billboard for whatever name brand shades you have an affinity for is probably a big part of your attraction to looking like some bug-eyed sex goblin whether at the beach or driving to Zoom Tan. For the record, if you’re not picking up on what I’m saying here, that shit’s not attractive.

No one really cares about what name brand sunglasses you’re wearing. Well, that is except for the other girls who are also wearing fuchsia-colored World War I motorcycle goggles. Stop competing with each other for who has the best glasses, it is childish and lame. Be more of a hardcore bitch because a hardcore bitch wouldn’t give a shit. For example, a lame childish chick would say something like, “Oh hey girly, you didn’t say anything, so I am assuming you didn’t notice these 50 lb. Leche Bananas that are covering my entire face!” The hardcore bitch would then respond with something like, “Who the fuck are you? Why are you wearing a motorcycle helmet? Fuck off.”

Additionally, another point that has to be made about these monstrosities is that you aren’t going to attract a proper mate with these alien face-huggers stuck to your face. For instance, I once had a girl come up to me who said it was great hanging out with me the previous day at some bar on the beach. I was like, “Yeah, who the fuck are you?” And then she told me and it clicked! “Oh yeah, I didn’t recognize you because your entire face was covered by sunglasses yesterday!” Then I remembered that the entire time I was talking to the girl on the previous day, that I couldn’t determine if she was attractive because I couldn’t see anything other than her little nose and tiny mouth. And this isn’t a one-off incident, it happens a lot. Half the time, I think the chicks are attempting to hide some gnarly scar or something.

I’m not trying to sound like a superficial douchebag here but the fact of the matter is, when you’re vibing with another human being and there just might be a bit of a spark, you’d like to see their face, right? I can’t tell you how many girls have ruined their game with me because I couldn’t see their face. The face tells a lot, the face is beautiful, don’t be afraid to show it off. Talking to a girl with giant fucking sunglasses is like talking to a priest behind a confessional screen. It’s just so impersonal and awkward.

When it comes to the excuse of wearing giant sunglasses because they block out more of the sun, I’m calling bullshit. For starters, I never wear sunglasses because I hate things on my face. That being said, I live in Southwest Florida where the sun is mighty intense and I am also prone to migraines. I still never wear sunglasses and I do just fine. Now when I have worn them for whatever odd reason, normal-fitting decent sized sunglasses did the job and kept the sun out of my eyes. Sunglasses aren’t hard to understand and use. When used correctly, decent sized ones work. You chicks mean to tell me that you can use a hundred different video effects apps to produce wicked Vines all day but you can’t figure out how to wear a proper pair of sunglasses?

I think I’ve made my point and there isn’t much else I really need to add. What we’ve got here is just another case of chicks being ridiculous because they’re too concerned with what other chicks think and ultimately are pushing away men who are of a better stock than the mickey-slipping beaus they usually shack up with.

Retro Relapse: Sub Making Is A Dying Art

RETRO RELAPSE is a series of older articles from various places where I used to write before Talking Pulp.

*Written in 2014.

When I’m not eating glorious amounts of red meat and bacon, I am usually eating a monstrous and awesome submarine sandwich. Unlike most people, I don’t have just one spot that I go to. I look at sandwiches as art and when it comes to subs, every place makes them in their own special way. I regularly go to Publix, Jersey Mike’s, Jimmy John’s, Sweetbay, Winn-Dixie, Firehouse, Quiznos, several mom and pop joints and pretty much anywhere else that you can get a sub. Although I do occasionally hit up Subway, I typically avoid it at all costs and if I do give in, I am quickly reminded as to why I stay away from the damned place.

Considering that I do frequent many places in the submarine sandwich world, I have more insight into what is going on in the industry. In a time where the world has been moving towards more automation and machine made goods, handcrafted skills have been slowly replaced. The art of sub making however, is something that should never die. I don’t think I’ve ever had a machine made sub but it wouldn’t surprise me if such a thing existed.

Being that subs are a hand-made delicacy, they are given extra special care and should be made with an undying passion for a necessary craft that should never die. I say “should” because I’ve had too many instances lately, of people making really shitty subs. I don’t know how such a thing as a shitty sub is even possible but the people I find working in a lot of these places now, apparently have no clue how to make a fucking sub or they just don’t give a shit.

My most recent bad experience is the freshest in my mind, so let me talk about that.

To start, I ordered an Italian, my preferred sandwich on most days. This woman didn’t know what meat went on the sub and actually put some turkey on it. Being the good sport I am, I didn’t correct her because I thought, “Hey, that’s something new, I’ll try it.” She then asked what cheese I wanted. I said, “provolone.” She then asked what veggies I wanted before putting the cheese on. I told her what I wanted and instructed that I would also like sub dressing. So what does she do? Well, she splashes the meat with sub dressing before putting the vegetables on it. Uh.. what the fuck? She then puts the vegetables on in giant fistfuls. She didn’t even strain the juice dripping from the vegetables. I got about 4 oz. of olive juice on my sub because she just grabbed them and dumped them on without care. She then covered the mountain of veggies with cheese slices that wouldn’t stay on top of the veggie mountain because that is not where one puts the damn cheese!

I took it home and tried to eat it. The sub dressing immediately shot down my arm, as it wasn’t soaked up in the shredded lettuce, as it should be. The bread was also soggy as fuck. Did I mention that there was too much mayonnaise and mustard? Thus, white and yellow goop kept spooging out between my fingers. The cheese was just an appetizer as it wouldn’t stay on the sub so I ate the slices by themselves. The sandwich was a sloppy mess.

Either this woman has never made a submarine sandwich or she is mentally handicapped. Now this isn’t a rare occurrence, as I’ve had similar issues at other places over the last few months. Granted, different people make your sub each time but that is what’s cool about it, as everyone has a slightly different way of doing it. When I walk into my favorite sandwich joints, I usually know which guy or gal to go to, if I have a choice. Some people make great subs, others make good subs. Until recently, I hadn’t come across many people that make truly awful subs.

I blame the managers or the trainers in these places. You need to have strict protocols and hire people who aren’t completely insane or stupid. Make these people make you a sandwich, you eat it and then ask yourself, “Does this person have the artistry to make sandwiches in my awesome shop?” Then you follow that up by making them make you nine more sandwiches. After 10 total subs, you should have a good grasp as to whether or not they can cut it.

You see, sub making is important; it is an art form and should always be treated as such. When you’ve had a tough morning at work and just want a tasty sandwich to solve the day’s problems, getting stuck with some soggy gooey giant blob that is impossible to eat and just sloppily gross, is a giant fucking bummer.

Sub making isn’t hard, it should be common sense. I mean, at this point, hasn’t everyone in the free world ordered a sub multiple times and seen how they should be made? The order of the ingredients is key. It’s not a goddamned puzzle! Additionally, giant fistfuls of every ingredient is asinine. If you can’t fold and cut the sub, you’re a moron who needs to scale it back a bit.

Maybe I just have certain standards that others don’t. Maybe I care about doing things right and making the best effort possible. Maybe I worship food too much. Whatever the case, I don’t really care. The point is, Leonardo da Vinci didn’t paint the Mona Lisa with piss.