Three on Tuesday? Is Dominos that good?

In the brain next to the parts that motivate work is a patch called Procrastination. The most compelling area of procrastination is the FIND FOOD spot. It is nay impossible to concentrate this particular spot, and you have no choice but to find food.

Luckily for me today is Tuesday. If you don’t understand yet, observe:

Two pizzas Two Om Nom Noms

 

After 15 minutes of Ameera, Hector and I trying to establish which pizzas were best for value, a.k.a, which two had most meat we ordered ‘Meateor’ and ‘Mighty Meaty.’

After allowing the eyes to feast it was time to take a bite. The softness made me forget pizza was even meant to have a crust, tearing apart easily. The anorexic slices were snubbed for the more voluptuous slices in the 13.5” round. The circles of sausage hypnotising you into taking slice after slice.

Mighty Meaty was nice.

Meateor had a chewy barrier of cheese between soft crust and all that meat. The bbq tinge gave a bit to that cheese so you wanted to suckle all the flavour before shredding it with your teeth. Leave behind your social politeness, it is rendered unnecessary here.

The ball of meat will captivate you as spheres always do to humankind. It may be imperfect but when you bite into ground beef that explodes into a simple spiced bomb on your tongue there is no need to care.

There is too much meat to understand, what man can rule this concept of meat, meat and some meatier meat? There is bacon, sausage, ground beef, meatballs and pepperoni- all equals upon this triangular slice of iron proprietor.

I hardly have a notion of memory on this pizza; it was all over before conscious thought was regained. It was so delicious to my hunger that I did not rationalise as a person, only as a digestive system, and the pizza was my lord and shepherd.

I have but one memory from when I couldn’t face another pizza…

Spying a wayward mushroom next to the dark grease patch on the box I snatch it stealthily and sink it into the garlic and herb dip. Biting into it the juices swim out, infiltrating the cream of the dip. The tiny slither of mushroom is not enough for the potential of flavour and impact and it vanishes, leaving but a sour taste of longing and biting your own teeth.

I would have liked to have taken a photo of the pizza we had. But… you know, what with eating it. It looked just as good as the Dominos Photos. Trust me. ♥

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