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Look at this billboard. Just look at it. You can just taste the cheap pepperonis, curling up into cup shapes and filled with grease, exploding with the force of a thousand sons in your mouth. The thought of chasing down gobbets of space sausage, expertly spiced with Mars fennel, as they drift about in your helmet for the rest of the day fills you with satisfaction and the vague stirrings of a boner. "I WILL pick up a pizza on the way home, for my man-sized hungers" you think to yourself. So go on, you swarthy easter lillies, gaze on my works and let me know how it feels to bask in my reflected genius.
