Pizza

I keep pushing off writing about butts but I promise it's coming.

I think I'm going to write a collection of poems about romanticizing pizza.

Sounds fun.

I like pizza.

Maybe I like the idea of pizza more than the thing itself.

But pizza itself is still pretty good.

Never seen or heard of it in the U.S. but apparently at Domino's they have this thing called cheese burst (also double cheese burst) which is like the stuffed crust pizza except there is basically a layer (or two) of melted cheese inside the pizza. It's so good yet so awful. I want to eat it because it's mouth-orgasmic, but at the same time it's so overly cheesy and greasy and disgusting that the taste of all that cheese just overwhelms me, which feeling I think it's safe to say I don't need a metaphor to describe. The first layer is I think white cheese, but the second is this insanely rich sweet thing that is kind of outside of the limits of what pizza should taste like. Good thing I avoided it today.

I've never really had bad pizza, except the stuff in high school, which isn't real pizza, nor are the "pizzas" sold in tiny food joints in India. So no, anything that a respectable individual would agree upon to be pizza is usually pretty good.

The best part of a pizza is inarguably the sauce. You can have a nice crust, great; good cheese tastes nice; toppings are lovely -- but without good rich thick sauce, pizza is nothing.

If someone gave me a big jar just of pizza sauce I would be happy forever.

What does it show about your life when eating pizza is the most significant event of the day?

That is all I have to say.