There's an old joke, "What do fat chicks and mopeds have in common?" The answer, of course, is "they're fun to ride, but you don't want your friends to see you on one".

Then there's this, "What do fat chicks and Sloppy Joes have in common?" Well, a bunch of things.

The first, and most obvious one, is don't let your prospective/current employer see you eating one. It will just be a mess. And no one looks cool doing it. And you REALLY shouldn't be going down on chicks in public, regardless of physique. Just a terrible, terrible idea.

Number 2: They're bad for you. You think, "what's one little Sloppy Joe/meaty broad?" Then you get that taste. Then you're all, "I can stop at any time. I swear." Pretty soon you're brushing your teeth with ground meat, bathing in cooking lard, and spending your Friday nights trolling the tightly packed aisles of your neighborhood Lane Bryant. It's an artery clogging, social-suicide spiral of embarrassment. And if I've seen it once, I've see it a thousand times. Don't let hubris devour you.

Third: The cleanup. With regard to the food, we're talking reams of napkins. Pretty much 2-3 after every bite. After half a Sloppy Joe, you're more of a threat to the planet's ever-dwindling forests than Kimberly-Clark, Canadian loggers and beavers combined. Fuck this recycling movement. How 'bout Flo just stops making the Sloppy Joe a blue-plate special at her white-trashy roadside diner with the blinking lights and the NSA homosexual sex out back. And with regard to the Orca in the lipstick. Ever try and get her to stop calling you? Oh. Haha. No, totally. Me neither. But I've heard it's impossible. It's like, stop calling me, Joan. We broke up 6 months ago! GOD!

And lastly, your breath afterward. Ew.

And on that note, I'm out. Have a great weekend everybody. Remember, drinking 13 beers in a 2-hour span has been known to lead to both things outlined above. So be careful out there. And if you're going to drink, get on a moped instead.