Today's story is about a cheeseburger. Not a cheezburgur. A cheeseburger. It's not a love song to a cheeseburger, either. It's a cheeseburger that happens to enjoy being single. What, I ask you, is wrong with that?
Single cheeseburgers are perfectly happy cheeseburgers. There is nothing wrong with being a single cheeseburger, nor is there anything wrong with being a properly-spelled cheeseburger, unlike those damn cats would have you believe. You got a problem with that, buddy? No? Good.
I'm watching you. You'd better keep your mouth shut, buddy. Got it?
Anyway, this story is about a single, properly-spelled cheeseburger with an appetite for vengeance.
Except now I can't remember it because someone had to go and ruin my concentration. Thanks a lot, jerk.
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