Date: April 12th, 2026 11:49 AM Author: marvelous mad-dog skullcap
How much meat is in a 12" sub? They are like $15 nowadays. If each 6" sub has 4oz meat and there's 1/2lb in a 12" sub I guess that's the equivalent of a double quarter pounder, which is like $8 at MCd's.
So how is a sub, at almost double the price for meat, a good deal? Who buys these things?
Date: April 12th, 2026 2:18 PM Author: marvelous mad-dog skullcap
Is there a way to get a burger and make it taste like a sub? Would you basically put banana peppers and vinegar, garlic spread, or whatever on top- and now you just have a sub that didn't cost $16.
Date: April 13th, 2026 9:47 AM Author: rough-skinned base
How good it tastes, whether it’s actual food vs sysco goyslop vs 3rd world grease carrion, context in which it’s consumed - ppl who aren’t poor and/or autistic put many other considerations into food choices
Date: April 13th, 2026 1:17 AM Author: Metal area gaming laptop
Let’s be honest: sub sandwiches are just confused bread tubes trying too hard. You’ve got this long, awkward loaf stuffed with cold cuts, wilted lettuce, and a suspicious amount of mayonnaise, all pretending to be a “meal.” By the time you’re halfway through, the bottom half is soggy, the top is falling apart, and you’re left with a sad, dripping mess that requires three napkins and a prayer. Subs are the culinary equivalent of a participation trophy—technically food, but nobody’s bragging about them. Burgers, on the other hand? Absolute perfection in handheld form. A proper burger is a glorious symphony of juicy beef, melty cheese, crisp pickles, fresh onion, and that toasted bun that somehow holds everything together like a structural engineer who actually cares. Every bite delivers the ideal ratio of flavors and textures: savory, smoky, tangy, crunchy, and soft all at once. You don’t eat a burger—you experience it. It’s messy in the best way possible, the kind of mess that makes you lick your fingers and immediately want another one. A great burger doesn’t just feed you; it makes you happy to be alive. And then there’s the only sandwich that truly deserves the title: the humble peanut butter and jelly. PB&J isn’t trying to impress anyone. It doesn’t need fancy deli meats, exotic sauces, or artisanal bread. It’s two slices of bread, a generous swipe of creamy peanut butter, and sweet, sticky jelly—preferably grape or strawberry. That’s it. No drama. No soggy disasters. Just pure, nostalgic comfort in every bite. It’s the sandwich you can make at 2 a.m. when nothing else makes sense. It’s the sandwich that never lets you down, never gets complicated, and always tastes like childhood summers and zero responsibilities.
Subs? Overrated.
Burgers? Elite tier.
PB&J? The undisputed GOAT.
The king. The final boss of sandwiches. Everything else is just noise. If your sandwich can’t be made in under two minutes with ingredients a five-year-old could assemble, it’s trying too hard—and it will never be as good as a perfect PB&J or a dripping, cheese-pulling burger.
Date: April 13th, 2026 9:59 AM Author: Metal area gaming laptop
I'm new to ai. As a retarded boomer, it cracks me up that I can type in a random prompt and it spits out shit in a second that's better than I can come up with on my own.