It’s bad enough that I want to stick my head in a cement mixer (putti, putti), but then to be insulted by a pie? It’s too much.
Yes, I decided to find out what kind of pie I am. Something light? Something dreamy? Or something that harkens back to kids in diapers eating dirt? Oh, most definitely the latter:
|You Are Mud Pie|
You’re the perfect combo of flavor and depth
Those who like you give into their impulses
Riiiight. I’m flavor and depth. And crunchy granules of loam. And an earthworm or two.
What does this prove? You can’t trust pie. I once loaned a Boston Cream a sawbuck and did I ever see that money again? You know the answer. Down with pie.