An Ode to Pizza Rolls
Tuesday.
Destiny written in a word.
Longing and expectation delicately wrapped up.
Toasted.
The line is anguish.
The price too great to turn down.
Pizza Rolls.
A roll by any other name would smell as sweet.
What’s for dinner?
Ideas churn in my head.
They churn in my stomach.
I shouldn’t.
I can’t refuse.
Pizza rolls are love.
They are innocent on the outside.
Inconspicuous. Unsuspecting.
But on the inside they are insatiable.
Gooey. Cheesy.
A moment on the lips.
Forever on the hips.
LIES.
Forever in my heart.
The box is steaming.
Grease drips.
An opened box tempts me.
The smell rushes out. Steam.
Desire.
Just one bite couldn’t be so wrong.
They make me want to lose control.
My mouth waters.
I’ve never wanted anything so badly.
I lift the roll.
Every move is purposeful.
I bite in.
It explodes. I explode.
There’s no shame.
Not tonight, at least.
Because tonight is Tuesday.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
Love is wrapped up,
Baked at 400 degrees.
But this isn’t love.
It is fleeting lust.
Carnal. Primitive.
Lured by temptation.
Taunted by Gumby’s.
I swear it won’t happen again.
Until next Tuesday.
Like Bellamy, we knew immediately that we wanted Cactus Jack on our team. It probably has to do with the fact that when we first met him, he was trying to figure out what it would feel like to lick a cactus. He’s sort of like the abandoned dog you come across on the side of the highway. He may be ugly, but we pulled over to watch and now we feel at least partially responsible for him.