So his sandwich jokes got to the point of featuring in day to day conversation and every time I’d ask him to stop, he’d be quite defensive about his freedom of speech. On the day that we broke up, he did the whole make me a sandwich spiel again, so I got up and made this sandwich right? But while I was making it, I was talking about how we were going to have the most dirtiest, most nastiest sex imaginable, after he got his sandwich. By the time the sandwich was done, I was telling him that if he wanted it (the sex and sandwuch) badly, he’d have to take off his pants (just the boxers on with an obvious boner and a wet patch) and follow me.
So he follows me yeah? He doesn’t notice that I have my bag ready and all, and I step out his house yeah? Here’s little ole’ me waving around this sandwich in front of pantsless McGee as he follows me to the bus stop (still dirty talking pathetically, him with his boner saying hi) and when the bus arrives, I hop on (with the sandwich) and leave my sad little ex with his dick hanging out for the general public to see.
Moral of the story: Don’t tell sandwich jokes and don’t mess with feminists because things like this will happen to you.