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< beck | ford >

Bad craziness of the best kind, man. I have an elderly neighbor who cleans houses on occasion - she's a petite lady with the strength of 10,000. She never throws away the food she finds in those houses, but her diet is so restricted, that she isn't allowed to eat much of the food she saves. What she can't keep, she brings here. So my bonus Christmas present from her is a small shopping bag of swag, leftovers from a Christmas party.

On top is two slices of something that resembles the nearest thing to NYC-style pizza that can possibly exist in this Podunk burb. It's heating in the oven right now; my mind is flashing to a pizzeria on East 233rd, near White Plains Road in the Bronx - mmm! And one on Broadway, across the street from the basketball and tennis courts at Van Cortlandt Park - mmmm!

I don't care if this pizza ends up tasting like chicken or Venezuelan roadkill - the taste of bad craziness is good enough for me.

There's also a bottle of Beck's Dark, my beer of choice, back when I drank such things. Who wants a beer? Anyone? We can try out the new beer-upload nodelet and see if it works.