I love your fight against pizza. You might even be right. I love it because it shows you are a normal person. What I’m about to say will be like one of those awful slasher movies to you, but you know I respect your views.
When I was in grammar school and early high school, I would often spend a weekend at my cousin’s/grandmother’s house. And late on Saturday night, my uncle, who really could not afford it, would order a large delivery pizza while we watched horror movies. He was too lazy to pick it up. He was a loving uncle. When it arrived, my uncle would pay for it. As he was doing so, my cousin and I would run to his attached grocery and grab three 14 or 16 oz. Royal Crown Colas. We would then feast.
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