Sign up for our free newsletter

Free D.C. news, delivered to your inbox daily.

I didn’t know until Sunday that Michael Showalter and Michael Ian Black were performing on Saturday at the 6th & I Synagogue. But I did see the NYT article about Showalter, and I found myself fuming at this particular passage:

After a year and a half on the road he had perfected enough material for his debut album, “Sandwiches and Cats,” released late last year on the JDub label.

“Sandwiches are very funny to me; I don’t know why,” Mr. Showalter said between bites of a turkey hero. “I love eating them. I’m eating one right now. Actually” — he paused to take a bite — “I just finished eating one.”

His love of sandwiches was so profound, he explained, that he was once asked to write a column for a sandwich Web site. “For whatever reason that never panned out,” he said. “But I had written these ‘Sandwich Commandments,’ so I started reading them in a stand-up context and then added music.” The bit, sort of a mash-up of poetry and a Jane’s Addiction song, is one of the album’s more inventive tracks.

This is some fake-ass sandwich posturing. Dude, if you’re really a Sammich Man, you don’t have to advertise it. You don’t have to be all coy about it, dropping it into interviews, like, oops, oh, excuse me while I eat this sandwich. People will know instinctively if you’re that man. It will be in your walk, your style, your presence, your aura, your breath and your gaze. So, yeah, Mr. Showalter, I’m callin’ bullshit on your sandwich love.