Pizza cures PMS. That’s science, right?

One side of brain: “No, we’re trying not to eat our feelings, remember? We’re trying to eat better and practice healthier coping mechanisms. We are stronger than food.”

Other side of brain: “Fuck you, we’re REALLY not. I demand six Egg McMuffins and a few shots of whatever will sedate me. Literally, whatEVER: Wine? Prozac? Cough syrup? Horse tranqs? BRING IT.”

Buffalo mozzarella sticks, guys. Do you know what that is? It’s mozzarella sticks, doused in buffalo sauce, AND THEN YOU DIP THEM IN BLUE CHEESE. It is sexy, cheese-on-cheese action. It is fucking vile…and also quite possibly the best thing in the world. A nice man would deliver it to my door — along with a pizza — for a nominal fee, because America is AMAZING.

P.S. I will obviously also need a cake, because “It says right here, it is a dessert wine.”

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