A rude awakening!

Today was a fun day.  I was feeling adventerous so I decided to do something really extravegant.  Something I would remember for years to come and be able to tell my children about.  Can you guess?  I'll give you a hint.  It involved me traveling to a local pizza joint, purchasing a regular cheese slice, and ingesting it for the sole purpose of comparing it to New York's pizza.  Need another hint?  Hopefully not.  I mean if you need another hint to understand that I went rattlesnake hunting then you need some serious help. 

Anyway, I did try the pizza.  Or should I say, "pizza."  Now as expected, I do have a few (12 to be exact) complaints.  However instead of just writing them down in a boring list I think it would be much more fun to write down a series of  highly dramatic idioms that describe my "pizza" experience here in Redding.  I may even throw in some sarcasm.  You know what?  It was that bad, I have to throw in some sarcasm.  Let's begin shall we. 

So what exactly IS it like to eat "pizza" outside of New York state?
It was like diving into a pool of low expectations and coming out more dissapointed than expected. 
It was like wandering through a desert hoping to arrive at an oasis only to find more desert. 
It was like being mauled by a bear and coming out of it with no limbs and only half your organs still inside your body.  You expect it to be bad, but THAT bad? 
It was like watching The Room.  For those of you who have seen The Room, enough said...
It was like swimming in a lake of crushed dreams and hopeless futures. 
It filled my mind with thoughts of pain and torment.  And then I realized that these thoughts were only an extension of the pain and torment my taste buds were experiencing. 
It was so bad, immediately after I finished I drowned out the taste with massive amounts of peanut butter... I hate peanut butter. 

I could go on and on but I'm actually out of ideas.  Figure that one out...  The point is, it was bad.  It wasn't terrible ( I was just having fun with the colorful descriptions), but it definitely wasn't as good as I would have liked.  It tasted like cheap microwave pizza that was just heated up in the oven instead.  BUT!  They did have the courtesy to conveniently cut my slice in half thus eliminating the daunting and agonizingly tumultuous task of folding it in half.  How kind.  Now I'm not going to name the name of this particular pizza shop (Luigi's)  but it doesn't matter because it's not their fault.  Who's fault is it?  Canada's.  And that settles that.