Another Fucking Pizza

As time has progressed, my mad pizza and quiche skillz have become off the hook. I don't look at anything and I don't think about anything when I put together a pie. I can do that shit in my sleep. So can you. It is not that fucking hard. Just do it, do it again, and before you know it you will be a pro. This is the only pep talk you will ever get from me and it is probably the only one you have ever had in your pathetic life. But seriously, this is easy. Don't be a shithead, and start making your own fucking meals from the bottom up for once in your miserable existence on this planet. Let's begin:
Make the dough. Make some BBQ sauce. Make some bacon. Slice an onion. Dude, this is even becoming mundane to me. Do we really have to go through the motions? Is this really necessary? If you don't know how to make a fucking pizza by now then I have failed. I blame myself. This post was going to be about the dangers of Costco canned chicken and the idiots who get suckered into buying a six pack of it, but now you have fucked it all up. Good job, asshole. Eat fucking canned chicken; what the fuck do I care? Jackass. Eat it.