Nothing more really, just wanted to share that
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I am glad you shared that. Just don’t share the ending.
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No ending. I threw it out, so it could itself experience the existential emptiness it bestowed upon me. The utter lack of fulfillment. The meaninglessness. I hope it suffers.
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That damned old wiener! Nothing worse than an empty, unfulfilled, meaningless wiener. When it gets old, it’s worthless.
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And the bun. The bun was the ultimate lie. With such buns in the world how should I believe love can exist. We are alone.
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Is there hope in the mustard?
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In his life there is no relish …
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In my life, there is no bun, so there is no lie. But then, should I believe love can exist? If so, where is the love I desire? Is the answer in the onions?
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The mustard is blameless. But it cannot combat this evil. It is only mustard.
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I have an organ preset named “Bratwurst” (which is why I clicked on this post), but it has no mustard or onions, and so it sounds terrible. Viscerally terrible. Now I know why.
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Since I see no mention of beer anywhere, I suggest this lack may have been the problem.
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This brat was a Johnsonville from Walmart Neighborhood Market. It didn’t deserve beer. It would have been an affront to beer. The sausage I can tolerate; it’s a glorified hot dog but they’re ok. It was the BUN. THE SH*TTY LIMP WHITE CRAPPY BUN. I’m mad now thinking about it. The whole experience was just miserable.
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At least it wasn’t speaking to you 
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I… am… not… your… brat
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Hi-Larious!!! 
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Those are gross. I tried them before and you are right, they are an affront to beer.
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Beat on the Brat with a base ball bot, oh yeah…oh yeah…uh, oh.
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That’s a hit
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