There’s this saying… “Sex is like cold pizza, even when it’s bad, it’s still pretty good.” What kind of self-loving forever-alone son of a bitch came up with this garbage? I’m not going to compare cold pizza to getting laid, why? If you’re satisfied lying down next to something cold, ridged, crusty and that was man-handled and felt up by some hairy dude with sauce on his shirt the night before… then you really need to get off the computer and meet new people.
Tag:
Pizza
I hope everyone has had a pleasant holiday, filled with people you love and delicious food. As the new year is upon us, I want to tell you about this great food related idea I have; a new Shut Up and Eat project that will take Montreal like a mid-winter snow storm. I will open a gym and call it “Resolutions” for the month of January, which will become a restaurant full of slimming carnival mirrors for the other 11 months. Great idea, n’est pas?
If you’ve been following me on Twitter lately, you would have noticed the influx of my tweets bitching about how I wanted pizza; and even by that I wouldn’t say it was bitching, more than it was a deep yearning that bordered on obsessive and annoying. Like a 5 month old wants a boob when he or she is hungry; the shrill cry of the animalistic response taking over its little body, screaming and shaking and turning red until the soothing comfort of a mother’s milker touches his or her’s lips… now picture that, but instead of that, picture me slamming the keys on my laptop making sure people know how badly I want pizza… thick crust, thin crust, stuffed crust, pepperoni, sausage, bacon, arugula, anchovies, fucking pineapples, I wanted it all, I.needed.it.all.