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Took the train into Manhattan today and did a couple of touristy things. And it reminded me of a law of the universe that I used to hold dear and have since discarded. Up until I was a teenager, and maybe a few years later than that, there was this invisible line, circular with it's epicenter squarely in the middle of New York City, with a radius if 50 miles. And Once you stepped over this line, even if by inches, the pizza sucked and they put mustard on the hamburgers. Yuk. Well the mustard line faded into oblivion sometimes into the nineties, but I have to finally say, the pizza line in now long since dead too. Pizza in New York sucks as much as out here in the burbs. Instead of being able to find awesome tasty pizza after tasty pizza, at every roach infested shithole in New York, you have to search and search to find an even remotely good one. There was something back then to that quintessential mix of first generation Italian immigrants and rodent droppings that made our pizza the best. What the fuck: "benji's Pizza"? "Pedro's Pizza"?! And I've got news for you New York" The words "kosher" and "tasty pizza" do not mix. When I was a kid, I was so spoiled by good pizza that I couldn't eat that "Pizza Hut" shit if you paid me. That crap was for people from Syracuse. Now I've become so desensitized from all the tasteless pizza around, why I find myself actually buying Pizza hut, or worse yet, gasp Dominos. So after I grabbed a slice today before heading home I realised the great New York pizza age is at an end. I might as well nuke some Ellios, it's just as good. Maybe even... "Little Caesars". Ah who am I kidding? I'll never be able keep it down.