Everything is relative, really. Even lunch meat. Take baloney. If you’re poor and that’s all you have to eat, the stuff will start to taste like the flesh off a dead man’s buttocks. If you eat anything you want and crave baloney once or twice a year, it’s like prime rib. Mechanically separated meat goodness, is what it is. A million adorable children singing what sounds like a euphamism for a sex act cannot be wrong.

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My bologna has a first name, it’s O-S-C-A-R
My bologna has a second name, it’s M-A-Y-E-R
Oh, I love to eat it everyday,
And if you ask me why I’ll say. . .
‘Cuz Oscar Mayer has a way. . .
With B-O-L-O-G-N-A.