Life is like pizza; it's freaking awesome

Last night I had one of the best pizzas I’ve ever had. It was Man Night, so the obvious choices were steak, pizza, or steak on a pizza, or wings or some combination of all of those. Having recently succumbed to the suggestion of friends and my girlfriend that “we become vegetarian”, steak, seemed an option that “WE” would really like, but that “WE” wouldn’t get to have. So, in a defiant attempt to maintain my overtly unhealthy lifestyle, we opted for veggie pizza.

To say it was an amazing pie, would be to understate the meal so vastly I would be wrought with guilt. It was fantastic. It was like Fight Club. Or the first time you walked on top of the monkey bars. Or beating God of War and calling the neighbors to let them know the rampant cursing from your apartment would finally come to an end. It was a taste of Love. Maybe this vegetarian thing isn’t so bad.

I found out ice cream was vegetarian on the same day I found out that Tastee Freeze had $.59 cent vanilla cones. It’s an odd feeling, to be recognized, Norm-from-Cheers style (hyphenated-for-effect-and-coolness) by the person that has served you roughly your weight in ice cream over the last two weeks. To see that knowing smile as you walk in the door shame-faced and begging for a fix.

“Small Cone?” she’ll ask.

“Yes, please” I’ll reply, eyeballing the soft serve machine destined to catapult me into my thirties carrying my 18 year old self in stomach mass.

“Small cone” refers to those little sugar cones you always ate as a kid, that hold the same taste and consistency of cardboard that was run over by an ice cream truck and dusted with sugar. Atop this paper funnel, they stack a 3-4 inch tower of creamy, vanilla ecstasy. However, when you frequent the “small cone” dispensary enough, your dealer gives you a little extra, turning your small cone (read: daily allotment of dairy for healthy living) into a mound of sugar that would make the cartel jealous. She knows I’ll be back tomorrow. I even bring friends. I won’t be a lonely addict. 

Seeing how much I like to talk, write and generally bathe in the spotlight, I’m going to include a tl;dr (too long;didn’t read) summary for my fellow ADhD friends, and people that tend to struggle getting past that character introduction hump in Dr. Suess books.

tl;dr I eat way too much and apparently forgot that I’m blogging on a band site.