I must confess a sin.
I love to eat. It's one of my favorite hobbies, and I'm damn good at it.
Of course I'm sure this has something to do with my current weight issue, but we don't really need to get into THAT now do we?
Now if my favorite food was something non-fattening like - I don't know - rice cakes perhaps, then my eating hobby wouldn't be such an issue. However, like most un-slender people - I despise rice cakes, and would rather eat the bag they come in.
Unfortunately, my favorite food is pizza. Now, pizza will never be classified as non-fattening. (Unless it is one of those mini-hockey puck things Nutrisystem tries to pass of as a meal.)
Since it's not going to be good for me, at least I can make sure it tastes good. This has been a quest of mine for years. You see, I fancy myself a pizza connoisseur. Please don't insult my tastebuds with that delivery drivel. Don't tell me something that is cooked on a conveyor belt oven is "pizza". Nope, that's thin bread with canned sauce and pre-packed cheese on it. Tasty as a snack for sure, but really just a step above being in a box in your local grocier's freezer.
I've had a few decent pizzas locally. Some I would even have considered quite good. That is all in the past now. For now I have discovered the holy grail of Florida pizza - Anthony's Coal Fired Pizza. If Pizza Hut is your idea of good pizza, please do not even insult the culinary geniuses that run this place by walking through their door. You won't get it.
If you can appreciate fresh mozzarella and romano cheeses, and plum tomatoes on a thin crust with a charred edge - this is the place for you. The wife even likes this pizza, and anyone who knows her knows she doesn't like pizza.
Now, those of you who give them a try, be warned - the edge of the pizza will be charred. (That's burnt to you non-connoisseurs) It's supposed to be. If it bothers you, don't eat that part. When you cook a pizza next to glowing hot coals, char happens.
Okay, enough about Anthony's, and no I'm not on the payroll. (Although if they wanted to comp me a pie or two I sure wouldn't decline...)
The family and I embarked on a trip to the local bowling lanes this weekend. I'm proud to say that I was able to defeat the nine year old, the two year old, and the eight year old who has to bowl from his stroller. Earl Anthony eat your heart out.
The wife decided to sit out claiming arm soreness, although I suspect the truth is she did not wish to compete with a bowler of my caliber. When your average constantly hovers around the 100 mark it's hard to find competition willing to take you on.
I will say Zach gave me a run for it in the last game, but through my skill, finely honed by watching re-runs of old PBA matches on ESPN Classic while saying, "Ahh, so that's how they do it!", I was able to hold him off by one pin.
Not only can I ride a stationary bike, I can defeat pre-adolescents and a toddler at bowling. I'm so close to athletic perfection that it hurts - or maybe that's just my arm.
P.S. Our Mystery Diagnosis episode was on again last night, so those of you with a time machine can see it.
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