How to Make a Tuna Salad Sandwich
Today I would like to provide you with the best, most detailed recipe and cooking instructions for the best damn tuna salad sandwich you’ll ever have!
Yes, I said tuna, which may alarm some of you who have an aversion to fish as a delectable culinary choice, but don’t be alarmed—I’m referring to a tuna sandwich using solid white albacore tuna, which is the Rolls Royce of store-bought canned tuna and should never be substituted with chunk light tuna, regardless of its higher mercury content.
Do you know how much solid white albacore you would need to ingest in order to be adversely impacted by the trace amounts of mercury contained within it? Neither do I, but I eat a lot of it, and so if you do happen to come across this answer, I would very much appreciate you sharing it with me.
In fact, you might use this time to take out your phone and look this up, considering that this is a major health issue and is not to be taken lightly. I would do so myself, but unfortunately I don’t have the sort of unlimited data service plan that I’m sure you have that would allow me to use my Google search app in this way.
I used to have such a plan, but since the divorce I’m afraid my alimony payments to my ex-wife have made that an altogether out-of-reach luxury that I can no longer afford. You would think that the judge would have been more lenient with me in this regard, but apparently my earlier outbursts in court made him biased against me. However, I still maintain that it was hot in that courtroom and that court officer was eyeballing me and mouthing derogatory comments about my mother throughout the hearing.
Of course, this is relatively irrelevant to your homemade tuna salad sandwich, which need not be prepared to anyone else’s preferences but your own, especially those of either my or your own ex-wife. In fact, this tuna salad sandwich will be less a sandwich than a declaration of your independence and freedom to live your life as you see fit, regardless of the niggling demands of the woman who was willing to take the condo and all of the home furnishings as well as all of the money in the joint checking account in spite of the fact that you were saving that money to put toward a down payment on a house that she now shares with her boyfriend Jeff, the personal trainer from LA Fitness whose bills you probably also helped to pay for back when you believed that she was finally getting her fat ass in shape meanwhile she was mostly getting on her back in the locker room after hours while you were working the graveyard shift at your second job.
Therefore, allow yourself ample time to prepare your tuna salad sandwich and enjoy it alone with a tumbler of Dewar’s blended Scotch whiskey, since it’s not like you can afford even Johnny Walker Red label anymore, much less Johnny Walker Black or anything of a respectable quality because, again, trifling ass bitch.