Just ate my Turkey Sandwich

that someone special made for me. It was delicious. Or turkilicious. Or turktastic. Maybe even turktacular. Bordering on turkscendant. Not quite a turkgasm though. Anyways it certainly wasn't like this experience:

Homer: I'll make a wish that can't backfire. I wish for a turkey sandwich, on rye bread, with lettuce and mustard, and, *and* I don't want any zombie turkeys, I don't want to turn into a turkey myself, and I don't want any other weird surprises. You got it? (a sandwich appears and Homer eats it) Not bad. Nice, hot mustard. Good bread. The turkey's a little dry. (realises) The turkey's a little dry! Oh, foe, the cursed teeth! What demon from the depths of hell created thee!