in the kitchen with the tombstone blues

I made pizza last night.

Squeeks likes her pizza piled high to the moon with cheese so before I threw it in the oven I sprinkled some more mozarella on it. Then I took some sliced provolone that we had in the fridge and laid about six slices on top of the mozarella.

It looked like Mayor McCheese got drunk on Richard's Wild Irish Rose and stole a Barely Legal from a 7-11 and came over to our house and spooged all over our dinner.

But that shit was good. It looked so good when it came out of the oven that I rushed right over to it and started licking it and sniffing it and then I shoved a piece in my mouth and what do i have to show for it?

Well, first of all I had the best goddamn pizza I ever had. But the after effect is piece of flesh about an inch long dangling down from the roof of my mouth right behind my teeth from where I burnt myself on the cheese.

Damn cows.

They always find a way to fuck us in the end.

If it ain't a heart-attack from all the Big Macs then they burn you with their by-products.

Yummy yummy by-products.

June 28, 2002 | 1:53 p.m.

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