Monday, August 31, 2009

Jews for Pizza, Not Jesus

Just came back from Ameci's Pizza with my lovely Aryan-Nation half Jew friend Krieger who puts more crushed red pepper on his pizza than anyone else I know. Ameci's is a chain and I really don't give a shit about chain pizza, but the Ameci's by our house does pizza good so whatever I ate it and was thoroughly satisfied. No need to get into specifics about the pizza cause it's solid, good droop decent flavor, etc, but the dude who works there is a zombie and he kicks ass. Thanks for the extra lemonade you beautiful undead motherfucker.

Sitting Behind a Desk Must Suck Balls

Working at an Italian restaurant has it's perks. I would eat pizza around 3-4 times a week before I started at La Finestra, and now I eat it ALL THE FUCKING TIME. I don't give a fuck if I get to be 300 pounds, cause it would all be pizza weight and I'm totally fine with that. Last night we were extremely busy in the kitchen and as soon as the rush stopped, the head chef and I decided to make a delicious pizza, that exact one pictured above. It was such a sweet victory for two reasons:

1. All day I was thinking about pizza (duh) but more so because my bastard friend Asher was making GRILLED pizzas at his house and I was unable to come by since I had to work. Seriously who the fuck plans on eating pizza without consulting me first? Assholes.

2. We were giving out free pizza to each table so naturally we were packed. Looking at all those delicious bits of heaven gave me a boner that only eating pizza could vanquish.

So we made it and ate it, and I'm more than positive I'm a better person today because of that. You don't think so? Then fuck you.

Friday, August 28, 2009

The In-Car Pizza Oven: Making Death More Delicious

I knew this one was bound to happen when I saw a Simpsons episode back in 1993 where Homer has an in-car oven and he's buttering up a muffin while driving. Genius idea I thought, but what the fuck did I know, I was like eight years old. So now we have this: The In-Car Pizza Oven. BRILLIANT.

This is a 12 volt pizza oven that plugs right into your god damn car. Finally I can make that Mama Celeste pizza on my way to the free clinic, the brothel, or over to pick up a hot date (where we would probably be eating more pizza before going to the park to "talk"). Now, being 'merican I LOVE getting shit as quick as possible, and when you combine that with driving it's like a match made in pizza-heaven. Delicious? Yes. Portable? Fuck yea. Safe? Pshhhhh yea right.

So am I gonna get one of these things? You're damn fucking right I am, and I suggest everyone on the planet gets's only thirty six dollars! Then you can have pizza all the time, even when pizza most likely shouldn't be made or eaten. Nothing screams driver safety like popping in an eight inch pizza to your in-car pizza oven whilest shuffling through your ipod or texting your friends about how awesome your new in-car pizza oven is. That is until you crash and die, but hey you had a good run.

The best smelling fatal car crash EVER.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Pizza Connoisseur on Radio Hotbodies Part Drei

Three weeks in a row, three segments on Radio Hotbodies, one hundred percent hot pizza action. Now those are some numbers you can soak your panties over but if you're not down with mathematical foreplay I got fingers too, cause I'm good like that. Total package right here ladies, line forms to the left of the discarded pizza boxes and condom wrappers.

(condoms optional)

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Monday, August 24, 2009

Fuck You, Chicago

My good friend Bennett is leaving for Europe today but unfortunately has a 6 hour layover in Chicago. And then I thought about Chicago and how much I hate it. Mostly because every Chicago based sports franchise is trash but also for this reason:

Chicago style deep-dish pizza fucking sucks.

If you're sound of mind and not mentally disabled, then you agree with me. However, there are still the little bastards out there who genuinely think this shit is awesome, and even PREFER it to pizza. Like real pizza, ya dig? For future purposes, pizza is pizza, and deep dish "pizza" is shit.

This shit ain't real pizza, it's an IMPOSTOR. A gargantuan abortion of pizza-making ingredients shoved into a pan. Why do I need three pounds of cheese, a quart of pizza sauce, ten tons of toppings, and enough dough to make you irregular for days swimming in an above ground pool? I don't. Dough, sauce, cheese, bake, eat. Way to complicate a simple, classic dish. Fuck you, Chicago.

It's also served up in a such a manner you can't just grab and start enjoying like Allah intended. Oh no, you have to actually serve this shit and take it out of a pan with a god damn cake server or spatula. What the hell is that? Come on Chicago, I don't need some fancy way of getting pizza into my mouth and bust my ass wasting precious seconds to eat your gross shit.

I wouldn't have such a problem with this shit if they just didn't label it as pizza. You don't call a calzone "Dough-Encased Pizza", you call it a fucking CALZONE. Know why? Because it's different and not real pizza. The people who invented calzones weren't assholes, they realized their shit couldn't stack up to the pizza name, even if it might be kinda the same thing. But it's not because calzones suck too.

So I told Bennett he has to eat at a deep-dish shit place while in Chicago and tell me exactly what he thinks. I found a place close the the O'Hare Airport that is supposed to have some of the best in the city. It's called Lou Malnati's Pizza and I'm pretty sure Lou was/is an asshole too. So sooner than later I will share what he thinks about it, and will also decide if I have one less friend or not. Here's my favorite picture of Bennett.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

PIZZASAURUS REX (Totally Caps Lock Worthy)

Pizza. Dinosaurs.

Look at that fucking box. Come on, you know it's badass. IT'S A DINOSAUR DELIVERING PIZZA! This is the genius that is Pizzasaurus Rex. For any of you who live where I live, you absolutely know P-Rex. This is a staple of the North Valley, not to mention drunk college students at the ever luxurious and celebrated institution that is Cal State University Northridge. Matador pride or some shit. Ole!

Tonight my friend Asher and I were gonna watch the Dodger game and get something to eat. Well everyone knows the best food in the world is pizza (say otherwise and you might get punched in the throat) so naturally we (I) decide on pizza. Duh. Like I'm gonna get a fucking salad to watch man sports. We decide on Pizzasaurus Rex because we both haven't had it in a hot minute and it's better than the cure for AIDS. What? There's no cure? I guess we know which of the two is better. Come on AIDS research, step up your game.

Well I have been going to P-Rex for years and years, ever since I was a wee young Jew, and it's better than sweet Jewish wine. It's not thin crust, or New York style, or any other style that I have had anywhere else. No no, it is it's own entity, it's own being. It is by far the most herbed pizza I've had in my life but not overpowering. There's not a shit load of sauce on it, and the crust is always light and airy. It's not a puffy pizza, and has a beautiful droop. I get turned on talking about it, like right now. I need some tissue paper actually.

I love it so much I even wrote a haiku about it.

Pizzasaurus Rex
How I want you in my mouth
Like glorious tits

And people said I could never write poetry. Joel - 1, College - 0.

Also, the number for this holy beacon of Pizza treasure is 1-818-772-PREX. That's fucking amazing. How GENIUS. I wish I could have me a 666-Joel phone number. That would be so cool and mildly Satanic, and I'm totally down with Satan.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Pizza Connoisseur on Radio Hotbodies Part Deux

Was on the DIM MAK approved Radio Hotbodies this week to, surprise surprise, talk about pizza again. Hey, I don't mind because pizza is delicious and I could talk about that shit until the apocalypse reigns down on earth, in which God will smite everyone who still thinks Numero Uno is decent pizza. Then me and G-Money would high five, ride away on our white horses, share a thin crust pizza with his son Jesus and talk about how much we love hot babes.

(the good shit is at the 54 minute mark)

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

Monday, August 17, 2009

I Can't Believe This is Legal

My buddy Mickey Slick sent me this picture of him mouth-banging some hot little slut out in public. The euphoria on his face is intense but I can't stop looking at that whore in his right hand, I wanna break a piece off of that shit like none other. My pants just got tighter.

Saturday, August 15, 2009

Hot Bitches with Pizza

Miss July, patriotic color scheme and all

I'm considering making a "Hot Bitches with Pizza" calendar. I think it would sell. But then again I'd buy a calendar of pieces of pizza dressed in lingerie with giant pepperoni nipples. Say what you will but you know that's sexy as fuck.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Pizza Connoisseur: Now with 100% More Video and Sex (Sex Not Guaranteed)

My dear friend Adam Scott Paul made this epic video for Pizza Connoisseur, so now you can experience this blog as it was meant to be heard, with a stoned semi-latino man yelling at you while slurring the little English he actually knows. Isn't that just the American way?


Ravenelli's Pizza, Where you could possibly see your own reflection in the grease.

Last night I also had an impromptu visit to Ravenellis Pizza, which I've seen a million times but have never tasted before. It really wasn't anything special and since I didn't expect to be eating pizza I wasn't all that into it. I smoked some of the good shit with a buddy before I met up with another friend, and it was his idea to get pizza...I SWEAR. Don't get me wrong, I ate the motherfucker (half of it) but it was a mediocre pizza at best. Not a huge droop, a little overdone on the bottom, and greasy as fuck. Actually at one point grease dripped off the crust and if I wasn't such a man it might have burned my precious and beautiful brown skin. Jerks.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Parties are Always Better with Pizza as a Prefix

Went out to my good friend Joshua Matthew Boyd's weekly radio show on Tuesday night for the one year anniversary of Radio Hotbodies. Now, if you are curious as to what that is you're at the wrong place buddy, cause this shit ain't about Internet podcast radio shows that showcase awesome music, do interviews with artists, give out free porn, play live music, travel into the past, peddle-sage like advice in three seconds, exploit the elderly, drink, fuck people up, and promote good times.

No, this is about pizza.

We got the genius idea (is there any better?) to order pizza during the festivities from this place that the man whose apartment we invaded, Adam Scott Paul, told me was awesome. It's called the Coop (Culver City) and apparently they think my buddy and his girlfriend look like and/or are vampires. I'm thinking that maybe the people who run this place are visually impaired or just really like vampires and wishes everyone was a vampire, cause they really don't look like vampires. Vampires.
My dear friend ASP, who looks nothing like a vampire.

So we order from vampire pizzeria and wait, and while I'm in the bathroom I hear my name being called. At that point I could only assume it was because the pizza arrived cause no one shouts someones full name if they don't mean business, and pizza and I had some serious business to attend to that evening.

I walk out and it's there. Two boxes full with slices of hope. "Fuck yea I wonder if I can get at least three slices of this shit" is what I'm thinking, but I'm trying to remain cool. You can't be the dude who just stands by the food and wolfs it all down while giving an invisible middle finger to the rest of the room. I take a slice, I examine it.

New york style for sure, not too thin and physically looks beautiful. This is how pizza in cartoons looks, almost too good. Pick it up and it's got the perfect droop, not hard but not soft. I'm pretty excited to eat it and I take a bite. It's great, a quality pie for sure, and I'm satisfied to say the least. Cheese, sauce, and dough are all close to on point with the right grease factor. I eat it pretty quickly so I go back for more and eat that one with ease as well. The Coop did it justice, golf claps all around.

I also ended up getting a short segment in the radio show to talk about pizza that you can listen to HERE, where I basically sound like a high retard that likes pizza but doesn't like Numero Uno. I'll elaborate another time on that one trust me, but for now...

Fuck you Numero Uno.

I look quite fondly back on the night - not only did I get to eat pizza, but I got to spew my mouth off about it for a good half minute. I consider that a victory coupled with great friends which made it that much better. Oh and this also happened.

Monday, August 10, 2009

The Only Thing Worth Having in Under 3 Minutes is an Orgasm

I don't know how to feel about this. On one hand I'm fuckin' 'merican so I love getting things as quickly as possible, but how dare you tell me you can make a quality pizza in under 3 minutes. European assholes.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Pizza Adventure Number One

Tonight might have arguably been one of the best in my life.

Yes, that might seem like a stretch, but keep in mind the best night of my life was when I found $20 dollars on the street and got a reach around from an Ecuadorian farm girl.

No, tonight was about pizza, beer, and Dodgers.

My friend Asher and I planned a day around eating pizza. The plan was to go to 3 or 4 by the slice places and compare slices of cheese pizza. Sweet. If there's one thing I like it's eating pizza and this was right up my alley. So we venture off to the first destination: Garage Pizza in Silverlake.
Recommended highly by my boy, I was fucking stoked. We walk in and there was maybe the most breathtaking pizza girl behind the counter, I was in love. I was on a mission though so romance needed to take a backseat to my quest for great Za. We ordered our slices, two cheese, and sat down at a table.

This place is waaaaay cool. Think Chili's, but not with lame ass shit on the walls and open for your eating pleasures till 3am. We crack open our Tecate's (oh yea you can bring your own beer to this place) and talk about how god damn hungry we are, amongst other things. We see BPG (breathtaking pizza girl) bringing out our slices and I kinda have to comment on how hot this girl actually was.

Bro, this girl was like, so hot. Seriously dude, I'm not even joking.

I had to. So we get our pizza and after receiving the typical "this is hot so you might want to wait" line, we look. Just look. Sweet lord it looked good, like a greasy hot girl. It was pretty hot so we did wait but I couldn't wait more than a minute so I take a bite.

Awesome. I hadn't eaten all day so it was uber satisfying. Really thin and the sauce almost tasted like Spaghettio's but worked well. Good droop ratio. Don't worry one day I will make a graph or pie chart or whatever the hell it is and break down all these pizza terms and trends. More crispy than I like but I couldn't complain it was pretty damn good, definitely recommended. BPG comes by to take our plates, we finish up our beer, and are on our way. BPG if you're out there....I love you, okay?

After that it was kinda a bitch. The pizza place we wanted to goto was closed for some reason, and we sat in traffic a lot. Whatever, we had each other and the memories of Garage, so we soldier on. We finally decide to go to a place that you have to order a FULL pizza but whatever, we were both really hungry. We head over to pizza destination number two: Casa Bianca in Eagle Rock.

Casa Bianca is an institution of Los Angeles pizza. Some people swear by this place and I wouldn't have been surprised if it was the cure for cancer or something. Usually there's a big ass line at night for it but we got there real early so we got a table pretty fast. A cool thing about this place is that they make their own sausage, so we were compelled to get pizza that had some sausage on it. We order our pie and wait, checking out the place itself.

Rad little place with the checkered red and white tablecloths, Italian lore on the walls, and a very standard menu. Fuck the menu though we were there for pizza. Our pie comes out and looks amazing...deep red marinara sauce explodes through the cheese and giant chunks of sausage grace half the surface. If there was any pizza I wish I could have inhaled it was this - it looked the way pizza does in my dreams. We dig in.


The cheese side was good, but it was the sausage side that made it. I've never had a better sausage on a pizza it was that intense. The flavors were all there and the home made sausage sealed the deal. If you don't get to go to this place once in your lifetime, I really feel bad for you. I mean you can't really call your life a "life". Sad. Sad you.

We take it down, nothing was left. Like mighty gods we kill it. Two establishments with pizza and beer...yea my life totally sucks.

We pay and leave, full but not defeated. I'm still hungry. Hell, I'm still STARVING but notice it's getting close to game time, Dodger game time. We leave the Rock and head back over to the valley to watch some of the great American pastime, eat more pizza, and drink more beer. We get back to Asher's and start watching the game, ordering pizza halfway through. We decide on this place that just opened up around the corner from his house, Napoli's Pizza.

This just got nuts. It was myself, Asher, and two other people. One of them was Ashers father, the other one's name I completely forget. Oh well, she's not important. We order two large pizzas and wait our 20 minutes.

We pick it up and head back to the pad. It smells awesome. Unfortunately the Dodgers were down so I was getting a little bummed. The pizza itself was great, giant slices and a really good sauce. The innings pass and they missed opportunities, but we were all optimistic. This was a great day, it wasn't gonna end with our boys blowing it.

CRACK. 3 run home run in the bottom of the ninth inning to win the game.

That's it. Done. I'm full off pizza, beer, and pure glee. We set out and followed through with our mission, although it did change just a little. I have never had pizza from three different places before but I highly recommend it. Try it, what have you got to lose? That's what I thought, jackass.

My line: 3 pizza places, over 13 pieces of pizza, 8 beers and one walk off bomb. What a good day.

Edit: The girl I forgot about is Anna Weiner. Here's a picture of her eating pizza.

Edit 2: Yea I fell off the wagon that day drinking but whatever, AA can suck my balls.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Late night pizza + match game = win

Tonight was a one of those nights where you think you have something to do but then it changes into something completely different. Cue a one bedroom apartment, weed, and FUN.

Whatever, that's not what's important. What IS important is that after the weed smoking ensued, pizza took place. Add this to the list of late night hunger-satisfiers. Yea, that's not a word, but I dont give a fuck. A friend of mine and I were pretty stoked on a pie to cure what ailed us. Delivery was thrown around, but no one was really gung ho, so microwaveable burritos from the market is what we settled on. Yea, not really epic, but whatever - I threw an entire pizza down earlier in the night (cause I'm sexy like that).

When my friend returned it wasn't with burritos, it was with frozen pizza.

Alright, I'm not huge on frozen pizza, it's almost appalling, but when it's late and you're hungry, there's no real food options out there, and you don't expect it, it's a pretty damn welcome sight. It takes preparation, it takes's like a stoner science. My eyes widen, I am surprised.

The steps that it took to actually get the pizza to be edible were mind-blowing. Detailing it would have to be dedicated to an entirely different blog, needless to say it happened and it was tolerable. Suitable. Spectacular. My friend and I dive into it, not giving a fuck if it were too hot or too cold (in this case way too hot), getting burns on the upper parts of our mouths.

Worth it. Totally fucking worth it.

Yea I ate it. Yea it tasted a little off, not fresh and pretty damn cheap...but god bless you Red Baron.

So I keep true to my promise - no matter what adventure or avenue I fall into concerning my rotund compatriot I will be documenting it for sure. No matter how large or small it will be captured like so many pokemon. Late night pizza is better than late night ANYTHING, maybe even sex...I don't know I'm not a fucking scientist.


No, this isn't like the classic game of the 70's where dudes and broads see if they're compatible whilest being hidden behind a screen and asking dumbass questions. This is with matches, homie, like fire. Scared? Well you shouldn't be, cause it's just a match and you're a human being. Humans >Matchs, bro.

This is more like a social experiment. Take a match, light it, and stick it in a friends face. See what happens, the results are hilarious.

Reactions range, from people who just blow the fucker out, to ones that don't realize breathing demolishes match fire like a motherfucker. Try it, you'll see. It's almost as fun as lighting a cross on fire and placing it in front of your ethnic neighbors house...almost.

The Inaugural Blog Post

This is me, and yes that's pizza, and yes it was delicious. This being the first post ever to anything I have honestly cared about (sorry livejournal), I feel it's necessary to explain exactly why I started this blog in the first place. Let me take you back...

I can remember the first time I tried a slice of pizza, I was around 5 years old sitting around the dinner table of my first home waiting for my father to come home with dinner. Not just any dinner, Pizza. Now, I might have had it before, but I really cant remember, so this to me is my first legit experience with this darling treasure. He sits the two pizza boxes down on the dinner table and unveils the most amazing thing I have seen with my own two eyes: Cheese Pizza.

Now if you don't like cheese pizza, then fuck you. Seriously you shouldn't be allowed to breathe my precious air. Vegetarians and carnivores alike can agree that cheese pizza is amazing, delicious, Whatever.

I remember taking the slice from 2 for 1 pizza (my mother has confirmed this for me) and setting it down on my plate and taking the first bite, and I mean THE first bite. The cheese. The Sauce. The Dough. The sentence fragments. A combination of three simple ingredients baked to perfection, served up in triangular pieces, that you can eat with your HANDS. At 5 years old, if I had to use a knife and fork to eat my meals, I would have lost my shit and spun into a tantrum. Everything about it was perfect, and that was it...I was addicted. Most people can't say they fall in love at 5 years old, but I did. Love at first bite, how romantic.

From there my addiction has just increased, my love for this wonder of the world has grown astronomically, and my weight has....fluctuated. I don't blame the pizza per se, I blame my shitty eating habits throughout high school and college. In my adult life (I'm 25 now) I have come to realize that pizza has been my rock, my best friend, my soulmate. Most of the important events in my life have culminated in eating pizza - whether it be post-soccer game, after concert, or just being hungry after some good sex.

I feel like I owe this blog to all the pizza places, the by the slices, the pioneers of everything Za. This is my life and I take it seriously. Everytime I eat pizza, or see or experience something pizza related, it will be posted. This is a testament to my absolute favorite THING in the world, not just food. I couldn't live without it, and if you told me that pizza was outlawed in America, I would move to Italy in a heartbeat.

Pizza, I love you, and I know you love me too.