For the record, in this case, “That’s A Lot Of Look” means OH MY GOD BEST OUTFIT EVER. Beyonce and Jay Z may be eating vegan for the month, but that doesn’t mean she can’t wear her love for ooey-gooey cheese and pepperoni. I am in awe. Check out a few more shots after the jump. [Photos: TMZ.com/Splash News] Keep reading »
Brooklyn does it best, and making my borough of residence proud (or, uh, something like that, I think) today is Scott Wiener, who was just crowned with the Guinness World Record for “Largest Collection of Pizza Boxes.” The competition must have been stiff for that title! Needless to say, Wiener is really, really passionate about pizza. I like to think that I am, too, but I have to hand it to him for taking his passion to what we like to call the Next Level. Wiener’s collection, which he began back in 2008, consists of some 595 different pizza boxes spanning 45 different countries. (He’s even written a book on the subject.) Keep reading »
Two Carolina men faced jail time the past week after allegedly assaulting their girlfriends with pizza in separate cases.
Cody Sebastian Parsons, 25, was charged with assault on a female Sunday evening after North Carolina police responded to a domestic disturbance call, WFMY reported.
According to a police report obtained by The Smoking Gun, police say Parsons became upset after slipping on a wet floor and began to curse at his girlfriend while pelting her with pizza.
In an unrelated incident on Wednesday, a different South Carolina man was charged with criminal domestic violence after police say he assaulted his girlfriend with pizza. Read more on Huffington Post…
Stage 1: Skepticism. You sit down at what’s supposedly the best deep dish pizza restaurant in all of Chicago and think to yourself, There’s no way I’ll like this better than New York pizza. I like my crust thin. I like to be able to fold my slice in half and eat it while I text and Instagram and walk the dog. What the hell does Chicago know about pizza that New York doesn’t? And then you sit and wait until your pizza arrives. It takes a good 30 minutes, and you don’t care how friendly the waiter is (FINE, the people in Chicago are nicer), no pizza is worth waiting more than half an hour for. You have other things to do. Like, try Italian beef. What are they doing back there, making the crust a quarter of a millimeter at a time?
Stage 2: Playing it cool. The pizzas arrive, piping hot and smelling better than bacon on New Year’s morning and you have an automatic salivary response. Your stomach churls and lurches, but your face shows none of it. Smell isn’t everything. You are going to reserve your enthusiasm for the first bite.
Stage 3: Loss of decorum. Despite your resolve not to like this bastard form of pizza, you’ve bitten down on a slice of pillowy, saucy, crunchy deep dish cheese with pepperoni, and you’re experiencing a mini-blackout. All of your pleasure centers are responding at once. You are floating through cloud crusts, sailing through a pepperoni sea. You are lulled to sleep on a bed of sauce and tucked into a blanket of mozzarella. And no pain or harm can come to you. Now or ever again. The world is not such a bad place after all as long as deep dish pizza stays in your mouth forever. You don’t care if it’s all over your face. You don’t care if you’ve brought the plate up to your face and you are licking it. You are alone with the pizza. Just you and the pizza for eternity. Keep reading »