your sandwich stinks

Some people like to keep journals on the internet. I know one guy, I haven’t met him in person, though, who likes to tell you that he usually see some business celebrities. Have I told you about him? I kind of subscribe to his journal. At first because it was interesting for me due to that I don’t have much chance to see those internet moguls and human resource company presidents or something. A couple of weeks later, I found him sort of bragging. His journal is about, probably he thinks, encouraging young people to start their brilliant career at newly built fields. What about agriculture? Anyhow, it was interesting at first, but soon I could picture him giggling before his computer whenever he met a “splendid” guy at some expensive Japanese luxury restaurant. “You pathetic debris should envy me.” I could hear him saying to himself. I could have shut the page up, yet didn’t. why? I don’t know exactly. I guess I just wanted to see how far he could be conceited.
The way he boasts is subtle. It’s like a carrot in a sandwich. Many kids hate carrot but cannot taste with mayonnaise and ham and whatnot. But some kids, like me, detect anything, because we hate particular things like carrot and vanity. If you want to tell Paris Hilton came to your apartment and told you cooked for you, make it bread of the sandwich. Then I can expect the whole taste of it is going to be nightmare.