Hamburger, Bread crumbs, an egg or two, ketchup, mustard, Worcestershire, your favorite spices. Salt/Pepper. Mash together. form into golf ball size balls. Make jokes about playing with your balls. Put on a sheet pan. ~30 mins at 350. Find cute server. Ask her if she’d like to put your balls in her mouth. Sample her on your meatballs. If you’re not retarded, she’ll tell you that they’re great. Ask for her number, take her to a nice restaurant, order a few drinks. Afterwards walk down the street to see a reggae band. Groove out with your date (anyone can dance to reggae) Find the guy with the biggest dreadlocks and buy a joint from him. Get stoned. Get some greasy late night pizza. Buy more booze before the gas station closes. Go home together and get plastered until you have the spins. Have the sloppiest sex of your life. Have her put your balls in her mouth (it doesn’t matter if you shaved them at this point). After sex, she’ll probably feel like vomiting. Fall asleep. Wake up hungover, without your clothes or dignity, covered in vomit. Make her coffee and give her some ibuprofen (it’s the least you could do). Take her home. See each other the next day at work. Avoid one another. Say nothing. Weeks later find out that she’s pregnant. Fight about what should be done about the unborn child. She decides to keep it (cus y’know she’s pro-life). Be admonished by your family and hers (because it’s all your fault, right?). Be disallowed to visit the child in the hospital. Have her name it something stupid like Kelsee or Judah. Pay child support with little to no relationship with your child. Years pass. Live a sad lonely life. Contemplate suicide. Draft a suicide note. Plan your death. Combine hamburger, Bread crumbs, an egg or two, ketchup, mustard, Worcestershire, your favorite spices. Salt/Pepper. Mash together. form into golf ball size balls. Make jokes about playing with your balls. Put on a sheet pan. ~30 mins at 350. Put your balls in your mouth (hey they ain’t bad). Forget about killing yourself (and where I was going with this). Enjoy your meat balls. Get a letter the next day saying the child isn’t yours (it was that douchebaggy male server, Brian) Clean your house. Take a shower. Go to work (you gotta close again tonight). Be ok with your life.