Return to Hoosiers Pizza

I do sometimes wish I were more bold.  Since I've gone back to work, there seems to be less to write about.  Perhaps I am more timid now that I have to regularly see other humans and those humans know about my zone.  

Of all things, I wish to protect the industry of regional pizza.  Hoosier's is quite cheap, so I made a pick up order during a movie night with Evdawg.  Their normal pizza seemed to be deliberately (very) under cooked.  There were no brown spots on the cheese, actually whiter than snow.  It was almost unreal.  Beside that imperative point, I need to tell you about another menu item.  The $5 Pickle Me.  It's a 10" pizza with ranch sauce, mozzarella, and pickle slices.  Normally, I think pizza without red sauce is somewhat blasphemous but at $5?  Just do it.  You will be glad you did.  And please don't follow in my other foolish steps.  Just tell them if your pizza is under cooked.  They need to know.  

Here I am, living with the journalist's curse, causing me to tell the world what is wrong with it instead of going to the source and taking time to make a real difference.  

Baked in the U. S. A.

Me too, sometimes. But I want to know what has been done to these crackers outside of the states. Honestly I assumed they were baked in the country. It would make no sense for them to get involved anywhere else but the fact that you (Austin) need to tell me your crackers were baked in this country leads me to believe something has been done to them in a far away place. But what? YYY???

At times I feel bad about the fact that I haven't been around the world but then I think of the merch from wish.com and wonder how much I could really sell for and how sexy I could be in the advertisements. Maybe I could somehow, someday be that sexy in real life and get paid to travel to China in a human sized epacket. Maybe I need to meet the people at wish.com and get myself sold. Finally, then I could buy those new cymbals I want.  

I've taken to gravy

 

It didn't start with a dream, but I had a dream.  I was mall walking and the whole mall was a food court.  The genre of food was fried chicken.  KFC, Lee's, Church's, Popeye's, Crispy Crunchy, Bojangles, Hardees (from the 90s), and more.  None serving food cooked to order, making you wait around while they assemble your sloppy sandwich and fry your soggy fries.  

French fries have let me down.  I've made no secret about it.  Since then, I've come to a logical conclusion about gravy.  It will never be less healthy than ketchup.  Mashed potatoes and gravy will probably always be more worth it than fries.  So there you have it.  Let's do the mash sometime. 

Janine Finds a New Home

 

For most of the last two decades, she lived in the garage in a rubbermaid box.  But now, her purple/electric blue jumpsuit has come back into high fashion.  Scoot out of the way, porcelain poodles.  It's time to hang out in the china cabinet.  Maybe from here, she'll find a sexy, intelligent man who's into collecting spores, molds, and fungus. 

Which one is best?

None taste like real coffee.  However, nestle is less stingy with the dehydrated chunks you get.  They also specialize in instant so I guess they win.  The bagger at Kroger told me bustelo would be best.  Honestly I hoped folgers would blend the taste of morning at grandma's with the best part of waking up.  It fell short but that's okay.  Instant coffee is truly commendable for its economy.  To celebrate, I mixed all three flavors together in my canteen and drank with a squirt of liquid sucralose.  May the gods of Karen coffee spit upon my proud, classless flesh.