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in-my-mouth:Fried Egg Sandwich
in-my-mouth:Ham, Cheese, Egg, and Lemon Sandwiches 
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guardians-of-the-food:Breakfast Sandwich

Alright, let’s talk about this. Whoever wrote this trite nugget from the sweaty nightmares of Nicholas Sparks wrote it on a Build-A-Bear receipt. What’s so special about this Build-A-Bear receipt, you ask? Well, for one, our author purchased a hot pink Hello Kitty Build-A-Bear with leopard print accents, and added a few customized messages. But it’s where this Build-A-Bear store is that is the real story.
This is in Niagara Falls, Ontario, right on Victoria Avenue in Clifton Hill, which is a terrifying amalgam of Las Vegas, Myrtle Beach, and Tijuana, an unsophisticated casserole of unskilled teenagers and Chinese tourists seasoned with regurgitated Jägerbombs and baked to a limp sludge in $30 motor inns. It’s the destination for American kids aged 19 and 20 who can’t yet drink in the States, and the destination for Canadians who want a fabulous, once-in-a-lifetime chance to stare at Niagara Falls for three minutes and then spend the rest of their time drinking Al Keith’s in their room at the Days Inn.
I can only imagine that our heartbroken receipt-scrivener scrawled this after her boyfriend (who was named Bobby, no question about it) left her right outside the Ripley’s Believe-It-Or-Not to get back with his girlfriend Tammy back in Kitchener. She rushed to the Build-A-Bear and constructed this hideous monument to Bobby, which she still keeps next to her bed every night, even though she never mentions to her new boyfriend why.

Swimming Pool 4, 2010Michael Dotson