meat sweats
the bronx bomber bested me and matt. we went down to roc-a-fella's pizza in sharonville last night. they have this 18" pizza there called the bronx bomber that costs about 22 bucks. if you and a friend can eat the entire thing in a half hour, you get it for free. we didn't officially enter the competition; we merely said we wanted to practice. we ordered the pizza, slapped our money on the counter, and waited for it to arrive.
this is the biggest, thickest pizza i have ever seen. and apparently only one team has ever finished it in a half hour.
here are the stats: it's 18 inches in diameter and 2 inches thick before it's cooked. it's stuffed with meat, sauce, meat, cheese, and more fucking meat. 8lbs of pork to be exact: bacon, pepperoni, ham, and sausage. i made it through two slices and could do no more. i had the meat sweats about halfway through the second piece and my gut hurt so bad by the time i finished it. matt muscled his way through three pieces before he called it quits.
and after that we went to king's island and joked about how the meat anchors in our bellies would prevent the rides from leaving their respective stations.
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i want to start a metal band called meat anchor.
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instead of working, we went to king's island and rode rides and amazingly didn't puke our guts out. the whole night i felt like i should be home studying for a test, but was skipping out on it.
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i'm trying to figure out where to concentrate my efforts when it comes to writing. i've started two short stories in the past days and neither seems very good. re-reading my writing is often like eating a stale saltine cracker: it tastes dusty and flat, but it'll provide some minimal sustenance if nothing else is around. i'm tired of writing about the same stupid shit over and over again. writing screenplays have been a welcome change, and i'm thinking of having a go at writing a horror novel since i've been enjoying that genre lately.
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i like judy collins's version of "both sides now" the best.