GUEST(NED)BREAKER: You’re Not A Delicious Pizza

I see what you are trying to do there. Really, I do. You’re trying to get me to notice you. But you are not a delicious pizza! I know, babe. I’m sorry. I don’t care about that new lingerie, or the new fragrance you’re wearing, or the fancy new hat you bought. I don’t care about any of that. The fact is is that you’re just not a delicious pizza.

See, I want to put you in my mouth. I’m sure - if I really thought about it - I could put you in my mouth. But you are a girl. You just wouldn’t fit.

Now - the PIZZA on the other hand - will FIT in my MOUTH. And it tastes delicious, like the dough was rolled on the backs of Ukranian beauty queens and the cheese is strong, sweet and powerful, like it was fermented between two Hemingway novels. And the toppings! THE TOPPINGS. I can choose The Pizza’s toppings, but I cannot choose yours because you are “a lady” and you “can vote” and “dress yourself”. I can dress the pizza however I see fit.

So no, babe. I don’t care about your naked body, your blowjob practices, or your ability to perform the oft-talked about but nary-actualized ‘Beaver Hat’. The fact is that you are not a pizza, and I’m sorry. Are you crying? Why don’t you me and the pizza sit down and wa - - -

Fine. Be that way. I’ll be here with my baby. The only one that understands me.

A Guest Dealbreaker written by the hungriest expatriate we know, Ned Hepburn.