Crappy little urban grocery stores, in the dairy section for
some inexplicable reason, sell these sixteen inch pizzas double-
wrapped in cellophane. Every store sells a different brand, but
the brand is immaterial as they're always identical no mater
what kind you get or from where. They're two for three dollars
and come in 'five cheese' and 'pepperoni' varieties. The five
cheese one is really one cheese dyed five different shades of
white and yellow and sticks to your teeth in a really gross way,
and the pepperoni ones are so greasy that the crusts soak
through with oil. They're like cardboard covered in red paint
and styrofoam and baked for fifteen minutes or until golden.
Stoner pie, as they are colloquially called, is awful. Unless
one is intoxicated, that is (hence the name) in which case
they're a delicacy on par with marshmallow fluff or granola bars
or fruit-flavored tootsie rolls. They are the definition of
guilty pleasure.  They do have one saving virtue, though -
stoner pie is an excellent pre-boug