Davinci's Pizza of Orchard Park is freaking awesome. Pimp. Pimp.
Then there are those little itty bitty things that grind my gears:
- Everything in moderation. And yes, this does include moderation. It's a vicious cycle, though
- "You don't eat that? Is it because it looks phallic?" For heaven's sake. First of all, I think we all have a Freudian response to things that are "sex organs". Our first foods are either breast milk or from containers designed explicitly to look like breasts. The standard latex Playtex nurser is pretty much a boob on a cylinder. And please... this would mean I'd have to give up whole cucumbers and dill pickles. Which, only really looks dirty, provided you find it sexy to watch someone who looks like they're doing obscene and awful things to Shrek. Hot dogs? They're tubular burgers! (Actually, if I find all-beef, and I trust Hebrew National precisely because they have high standards... I'm all for it.) the issue is generally store brands and cheap-o brands... and well-known companies dealing with inflation. Then, you're likely to find an intestine stuffed with cheap meat, and to save money and make profit, filled out with "cereal". Everything looks like something, and anything can be dirty.
- The Sugar Nazi... Oh, good. You're taking care of yourself. Awesome. Don't be a total tool about it, and please, don't preach while bribing a kid with candy to shut them up.
- "Isn't all sugar the same?" Ask someone who has lactose intolerance. (Coincidentally, the money I spent on Lactaid pills and bad lactose-free milk pisses me off.)
- "Don't eat wheat, rye, barley, spelt or oats"... Stop! Oats aren't a problem...actually, they're naturally gluten free. The issue is that you have to look good and hard to find oat products from a company that doesn't store oats in bins that once stored wheat. It's not the gluten content... it's the contamination
- "Are you doing this to lose weight?" No, I do that just fine, thank you.
- You're trying to be skinny: Ask my mother. When I was a kid, my parents occasionally got called in... an essay for a class that I did on anorexia was apparently too good. I ate lunch with the principal for the rest of the semester. Nope. Bro and I acquired a "Bony" gene somewhere.
How about I tell you about a date? I went out for ice cream with a nice Italian boy. It didn't go so well. Shame. I've always wanted to lick the nuts off a large Neapolitan.
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