GUESTBREAKER: You Didn’t Make Me A Sandwich
I know I totally rocked your world babe, so when you asked me if you could return the favor, I thought I made myself pretty clear: “Yo, make me a sandwich.” And you laughed. You thought I was kidding. Baby, all I want are some delicious deli meats smothered in mustard between two slices of bread, and I want it served to me in bed, king style. Yeah, that’s right, king style. What? You think I’m being “weird” and “sexist”? That I should walk the ten-or-so feet to the kitchen and make my own damn sandwich? You asked me what I wanted. And babe, I told you. I want a sandwich—a delicious, life-sustaining, post-coital sandwich.
A Guest Dealbreaker written by Taylor.