What they say about bad pizza and bad sex is not true at all: when it’s bad it is not still pretty good. Bad sex is horrible, but bad pizza is even worse, if that’s even possible.
I’m embarrassed to say that as a kid I loved fast food pizza- by which I mean I scoffed at home made. SCOFFED. Just like I scoffed at my dad’s MG and insisted we get a station wagon. Boy, was I a nutty kid. Continue reading
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