As has been documented here, my digestive system is not what it used to be.
I have to be careful about stuff with fat. It’s built in portion control.
Last night, I came home late from yoga and was fried and wanted something quick and yummy so I chose this pizza.
Holy moly, digestive system on fire. I ate half of it and it wasn’t huge. And sheet-howdy if I didn’t taste that freaking thing for a full 24 hours. I can still taste it. It’s still burning me. I told Bob how miserable I was and he’s afraid of it, too.
The leftovers sit in the fridge. Holding court. We tremble in its shadow. Bad, scary pizza. Bad.