Hot Pizza: Public Enemy Number 1

I Love pizza. With a capital “L”.

There is nothing better than a crispy crust smothered in hot, gooey cheese. Add some grilled onions and mushrooms and I am dunzo.

The only thing better than a slice of pizza, actually, is an entire pie a slice of pizza after a night of drinking.

Yes, like unattractive guys and all songs written and produced in the 80’s, my love for pizza grows immensely when alcohol is involved.

It is like I am one of Pavlov’s dogs; the minute I taste beer, I start drooling for a slice of pie.

My cravings only grow more severe as the night progresses. With every downed shot I imagine my date with my precious pizza pie. So, when the opportunity finally presents itself, I go to town without any thought given to potential collateral damage.

Like my tongue, for instance.

Or the roof of my mouth.

What? Like you could wait the 20 minutes it takes to get home, the 10 minutes it takes to decide what delectable toppings/debate the need for a side of cheesy breadsticks, and the 35 minutes to actually get the pizza and NOT dive right in the minute it arrives? Read More »