I feel like a spirit like an orb shoot through my body every time I grab a sandwich. You know a lot of people laugh at me, they beat me up, they give me black eyes, they broke my nose four times. You know, because I like to make sandwiches and I get bullied about it, and I get bullied for it. And they pull my underwear up and doo-doo feces does fall out because of how hard they pull. But will I stop grabbing sandwiches with my bare hands and moving them down the assembly line? Absolutely freaking not, if you know what I mean. Like no, the answer’s no way. This is the only thing that brings my life joy. And you can beat me up, you can threaten to kill me, you can dox me, you can come to my house in a black SUV, I’m not going to stop doing this. I love the people of this country, I love giving them soggy sandwiches, and no I’m not going to stop.