So close, but no cigar: you are only a silver medal winner today in the pedant Olympics.
That’s not even pedantic!
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so when the ketchup melts through the bottom of the bun and separates the halves, it morphs from nestled hotdog not-a-sandwich to a hotdog between the two halves of the partially disintegrated bun, a sandwich - finally makes sense
question - at what point exactly is the separated bun considered adequately separated? - if the ketchup soaks sufficiently into the bread, it could be hard to distinguish between it being an intact saturated-yet-still-bread connection versus an isthmus of viscous vegetal quasi-fluid heavily seeded with autonomous bread fragments
your thoughts?
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When the structural integrity of the original design is such that it cannot sustain its original use, like containing ingredients without requiring force applied to opposite sides, then it goes from nestled to sandwiched.
*Edit: Putting ketchup on a hot dog makes it a goddamn abomination is what it does.
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Eat faster?
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Claiming “my bun broke in two, now it’s a sandwich” is like saying “the bridge on my glasses broke, now I have two monocles.” You can stick by that if it makes you feel better, but everyone else recognizes that your stuff just got busted.
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every time i try and roll a lobster it just gets pissed off.
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wait wait wait, i just want to point out:
so when the ketchup melts through the bottom of the bun
as a friendly warning, you may have just brought ketchup to a mustard fight.
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When I rip my pants in two I have two individual pieces of pant?
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oi can see you’ve played mustahd-ketchip before
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reminds me of that (very, very) old joke…
what can you make out of 50 surplus large brassieres?
100 yarmulkes with chin straps
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Wait until someone tries to convince the world that cereal is soup. Then all hell is gonna break loose.
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You’re talking about ketchup on a hotdog, so your entire argument is nullified.
/smh
<— Do you see any ketchup on that? Well, do you? Nosirree bob!
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Hmm…now that you mention it…
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I do like the addition of intent. It definitely tips its hat to the inherent human ambiguity of the whole thing. What would a reasonable person call a sandwich…
totally, we already have a word for that, that’s a sandwhoops!
In terms of food-themed euphamisms on subway cars, I’d certainly rather be manwiched than pissghettie’d
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oh…oh dear, I very much want a meat pop tart now. I loved it when a “Tuck Shop” opened up down the street from my MILs house. The meat pies there are amazing. I also fucking love Jamaican beef patties, even the freeze and re-heat ones. Damn, the mixing of meat and pastry does not happen enough in the states.
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They are a staple in every corner shop in Toronto. And yes, indeed they are awesome (and not a sandwich!)
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So they are Jamaican Empanadas?
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Basically, yep -
Almost a 40 year history of selling these on the street in Toronto 
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