Working out, then Pizza

I know I should work out then get pizza. So I didn't. I just got the pizza. And it made me realize how much I love pizza. And I miss it. I try to eat right, exercise regularly (and I do, depending on your definition of regularly). So, since I try to be good I like to go crazy. Last night eat at the silver diner where I feasted on onion rings, meat loaf, mashed potatos, and corn. I washed it all down with a chocolate shake. Thank God you were in my car on the way home, or in the Bersack household when I dropped that bomb. (Side note: I write about pooping a lot but since no one reads my blog, I won't stop.)

So, yes. I just finished my third slice. It was fucking delicious. I should go workout.
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