So, I used to think the answer fell somewhere around two. Maybe three. Definitely no more than four. It was a decision I had come to in my late teens, one that lasted all throughout my mid-20s -- until I grew up and realized I had no idea what the hell I was talking about.
...and what the hell I was missing.
Ah yes, my twenties. It was a simpler time: I'd ingest just enough to get me satiated to the point where I could still move around without looking like a slumped over bag of garbage being dragged through the streets stinking of cheese, pepperoni and grease. Probably some garlic mixed in there as well.
But that was then. In the years that've passed I've grown up, gained a few lbs, and discovered that two (or three) slices is just plain amateurish. A waste of time. Dumb even.
Ask my 30-year-old self how much pizza is too much pizza and you'll get a simple answer: Can I have the rest of yours?
Real response: None.
Because...
...exactly.
Anyway, that's the answer my "adult" self has come to. “None.” Fuck eating just half the pizza and calling it a night. I'm a man -- well, sort of -- and I want it all. Or nothing at all. There's nowhere left to fall. When you reach the bottom it's now or…
OK, I'm getting sidetracked. (Thanks, O-Town.)
The point is: I'm an adult — again... sort of — so if I want more than two or three slices of pizza I'll damn well take them! I have a job, my own place, health insurance, more responsibility, more expected of me -- naturally I should have more pizza, too.
(not sure why it all goes hand-in-hand, but it does in my head)
So, how much pizza is too much? Fuck you for asking. That's all I have to say.
That, and can I have the rest of yours?
Thanks.
Yum.