My little brother and I made plans to do a bit of Christmas shopping together. He needs my help when shopping for his three stylish nieces. We decided tonight was a good night to order that BIG pizza he has been dying to order. When he picked up the BIG pizza, the pizza guy wanted to know what he was driving. The BIG pizza would not fit in a Smart car, or even a Ford Focus...this bad boy needed the bed of a truck. It also comes out the back door, it won't fit through the front door.
When the moon hits you eye like a big pizza pie
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine
Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling
And you'll sing "Vita bella"
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay
Like a gay tarantella
No one was a gay tarantella. No happy dancers instead...
BEWARE--a pizza this size causes gas.
Not in women but in forty year old brothers.First brother dropped his bomb in my beautiful new truck, in which the windows needed to be rolled down to let the 20* frigid air purge the cabin. Then while I was digging for my keys on a mall bench I was left in a cloud of toxic fumes as a giggly brother left me suffocating as old men where dropping to the floor right in front of me. So beware when ordering a fifty pound pizza. Why is it men have no problem cutting the cheese in public? Not to mention think it is funny?
Once I got my oxygen levels restored we headed to Target: the momdom of shopping mecas,where I purchased these holiday delights for myself.
Okay my Santa feet are scurrying to the medicine cabinet for a couple of Tums to calm the effects of the BIG pizza pie and call it a night.