“Hey, I love my wife, but she ain’t no Pizza!”

Well, wouldn’t you agree that the ‘love for food’ is the purest form of love known to man?

It’s unconditional. Well, unless you order Mashed Potatoes. That’s just insipid.

It’s loves you back. Maybe it shows a lot more love on your hips and tummy, still.

It demands nothing. A pinch of salt occasionally.

You can learn how to love it better with any recipe book.

It feels sinfully delicious at midnight.

Having someone else’s food feels equally good, and guess what? No regrets.

It’s the easiest way to define happiness.

I am leaving this post in between, because my love beckons me and I need to make a quick trip to the refrigerator.

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