Food Reviews: None Pizza With Left Beef

By Charles Bukkake
It was an especially cold and bitter night when my wife left me. She had been banging my boss for a couple months and when I caught them on that cute futon I bought from Ikea just a week or two ago, I was fired the next day because “It makes the whole work experience awkward”. Traveling by foot back to my apartment, because that’s what recently unemployed divorcees do, I was mugged by a much larger gentleman whose skin color I shall not specify so as to avoid being called racist by anybody. Anyway, I got my umbrella jacked for whatever fucking reason and it started to rain almost immediately after. By the time I finally got to my apartment, I found a note on the door from my wife telling me to pack my things and leave. Left BeefYes I probably could have sued my boss or legally done something about this  but the truth is, my wife is right about a lot of things, including the fact that I don’t have the balls to do anything about it. Anyway, I managed to work up quite the appetite so I decided that I might as well order some pizza from Domino’s, because product placement. I opened my computer and, much to my surprise, I found an odd picture, some kind of twisted abstraction, I think they call it “meme” but it was detailing a certain kind of pizza, or rather, a pizza that didn’t have any pizza at all. Indeed there was no pizza, just beef. I guess my daughter was using my computer again but before I could cross my fingers and awkwardly ask a series of vague questions to her, in hopes that she didn’t find my bookmarked babysitter porn, I thought hey fuck it, why not? This seems like some crazy diet thing and I could shed a few pounds. I was well on my way to ordering what, I did not know at the time was called, none pizza with left beef. No cheese, no sauce, no pepperoni, no Chad’s saus-sorry…Italian sausage, no mushrooms, no ham, no bacon, no anchovies, but beef. Oh yes. A normal amount of beef specifically on the left side of the pizza. It sounded a little weird sure but whatever helped me bond with my daughter aside from the ever-so-often “You don’t understand me”’s and “It’s not a phase, dad, why do you hate me?”’s and “Ugh you’re so embarrassing”’s every time I mention erections around her boyfriend. Within fifteen minutes the pizza came and with each bite I fell more and more into despair until I ultimately started to cry. My life couldn’t even give me the small pleasure of enjoying some fucking none pizza…with left beef. The dough was especially raw in some places and burnt in others and the oblong chunks of beef tasted as salty as the tears streaming down my face thinking about Karen and I’s honeymoon. My daughter walked in on me, asked if I was crying and I only responded “No sweetie, it’s just really spicy.” She shook her head in contempt, as they all do, and while she was leaving she turned her head slightly, her back still facing me, she said “Mom called. She heard you got fired and just wants you to know she’s not mad, just disappointed.”