ok, so I'm surfing the web for no reason whatsoever, just checking out stuff, and what do I find... japanese pizza. I'm thinking... "ok, I can see how that can work, lets check it ... no. NO."
it's kind of crazy and gross, actually, but it's also entertaining in its own way and a recommended stop. here, look (emphasis added):
As far as I can tell, this is the web's first page dedicated to introducing the world to Japanese pizza which, in some guises, is truly an abomination for mankind. But I won't make any further value judgments here and simply describe the pizzas that are selling at Pizza Studio, an establishment in my neighborhood in Setagaya, Tokyo.
oddly enough, that's not the only scary thing out there on that topic... there's more over at this dude's site. checkit, emphasis added:
I love pizza... But nothing I had ever experienced came close to preparing me for PIZZA in JAPAN. They do evil, nasty things to pizzas over here...Sometimes there are things present that God never intended to sit atop a pizza pie. Especially if you get one of their special combos from the twilight zone... pizza from the dark side.
then I went here, which... this is just, I don't know, there's just something wrong with this whole thing. PH in Japan? no, it's not right. not like this!
so, em, anyhoo, japanese pizza. weird, huh?
also, this was on my mind today: you know those people that hold on to a grudge, like, fucking forever? everybody knows someone like that, works with someone like that, or lives with someone like that, right? holy shit those people drive me insane. fenix just threw up all over me, right, so I said to him Fenix, when you're seven I'm going to withhold your allowance one week because you puked on me when you were seven months old.
I was mocking those assholes... but when you boil it down, that's about the extent of the thought process for the grudge-holders, isn't it? as if there's punitive damages in personal relationships... and as if children would get it? it's so messed up and the dysfunction just feeds more dysfunction later.
man, you gotta leave your dysfunction at the door. we all got enough already without you adding those two cents.
i'm irish... and the old joke goes like this:
question: you know what irish alzheimer's is?
answer: no, what?
punch line: we forget everything but the grudge (bah-dum-bum!)
and for no reason whatsoever, I'll conclude this with this cute picture of a wet dog.
take it away, noodle: