Dear Bagel Deli, Get Outta My Mind

Maybe your pastrami is filled with tomacco.

I cannot stop thinking about you. You consume my every thought.

You would think, since I was violently ill this week, puking and dry heaving for hours on end, that I would not be interested in gently resting your pastrami on my tongue. But your sandwiches are so delectable. I am addicted to you. I want you more than anything I have ever known. Your succulence....juicy tender glory brings me what I know must be true love. Thank you and I hate you.

YOU ARE MY TEEN WITCH