Peetszuh

I love pizza. It's the boyfriend I never had. It's the light to my dark mind. It's the ying to my yang. Call me crazy if you want. I don't care.

It's my favourite junk food. The grease drips into my ravenous mouth like a faucet. The BIG FAT crust clenches my teeth with fervor. The fake cheese gushes out savory sauce as I bite into it. The accepted colour of love. This taste lights my fire. Delicious.

When I'm sucked into the tel lie vision, I bemusedly eat the equivalent of one fridge full of food plus a cupboard multiplied by the drawers of condiments divided by the spices, subtracting salt. It sounds like a lot. But it's not. The number flies by like Superman - that's because it's not important.

Pizza. My most popular one is a basic pepperoni pizza.

I get so weak in the knees/
I can hardly breathe/
I lose all control/
I want it to stay with me...forever!

Pepperonis taste like heaven. They excite my taste buds; jittery and jumpy. It's a packed playground in there. Saliva slithers to the sides of my mouth. It slips out sometimes too. I look like I just saw the sexiest man walk by when it does.

Pizza is so good. I'll love it forever. It can kill me slowly - once and once only. But it's still good.