Well anyway, I settled for a 5 topping pizza from Papa Johns, my favorite of the chain pizzas. It was good, although the bottom crust was extremely soggy so it all kind of fell apart when I tried to pick a piece up. Pepperoni, Italian Sausage, Green Peppers, and Extra Cheese. (I know, that’s 4 toppings; I couldn’t think of another one under pressure.) I hadn’t had pizza in … well, a really long time; probably a year or a year and a half. I’m just not a big pizza eater, I guess. I always look down at it, super greasy and taunting me. “Eat me Vincent… eat all of me!” So I usually do, which is bad.

Of the eight slices, I had 6, that’s just got to be bad for me. Oh well. It’ll be another year or so before I have another. I guess it could be worse – I could have had Manuel’s Hot Tomales. MHT’s are the greatest meat product wrapped in a paper tube ever. There’s nothing more appetising than watching the woman behind the counter open the huge pot of hot grease and reach inside with some tongs and pick out a dozen or so tomales. From the pot to the counter these thing drip enough grease to clog the arteries of a small village in Ayacucho Peru. You watch with disgusted glee as she wraps them in two sheets of butcher paper, an entire section of newspaper, and sometimes two paper bags.

Of course, by the time you get home the grease has soaked though all 20 layers of “protection” and you have a big grease stain on your car seat. Try explaining THAT one to someone.

Also try presenting this grease soaked bag to someone who’s not from here and get them to eat one… you’d have better odds starting a round of drinking games at a Mormon Church Social.

But mmmmmmm they’re good.

Oh well, back to work.