As the warmth hovers her lips, she quivers. The steamy scent elevates her as her eyes gloss over. Her tongue begins to uncover each sensation as she closes her eyes in satisfaction. She dives in once again, to find herself pleased by the temporary supply of ultimate bliss.
This is how my best friend eats her pizza.
It is almost unfair how easily we can get pizza at any time, any where.. and at any state of mind. Sicilian seems to be the popular choice amongst our friends. Sometimes we go to the location on quinpool but more often we go to pizza corner at 3am. As you stumble towards the counter trying not to awkwardly stare at the workers, you try to arrange your thoughts. Here are how the thoughts usually work..
“Is that pizza?”
“ok, theres pizza”
“is there pepperoni”
“ok no, BUT THERES MEAT LOVERS”
“but do they have donair sauce?”
“FUCK YES theres donair sauce!!”
“okay so wheres my money?”
“holy shit I’m fucked”
“BIN DO YOU HAVE LIKE 2 DOLLARS? I ONLY HAVE 3 DOLLARS”
and then you get your pizza
As you stumble back to your seat, you’re not even looking as to where you’re going. Your eye is on the prize, and the prize, is the pizza. Your friends are talking about the night but you could care less. You’re thinking “how the fuck is this so good” and you’re eating at the speed of light.
And then it hits you
You’re so full, you can’t finish the Sicilian slice (basically a quarter of a pizza) – you feel sick
The night usually ends here