Salsiccia, gorgonzola . . . . or how can something I love, hurt me so . . .

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5 thoughts on “Salsiccia, gorgonzola . . . . or how can something I love, hurt me so . . .

    1. Planet Rowland is a hostile environment . . .there were other dreams that night, too . . . ones which I won’t describe for fear that men bearing a nice jacket with sleeves that fasten neatly behind my back might appear and ‘take me for a little ride’ . .

      but that pizza is my drug . . .

  1. I feel as if by reading this post I must change my identity and never contact friends or family members ever again.
    Then again, maybe I’ll just make myself another drink and work harder on that second part.

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