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http://www.openvoc.eu/poi#funnyReviews
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  • It's funny how things change as the years of our lives pass by. I can remember, with vivid clarity, how obsessed I was in my college years about pizza. We spent just about every night out, me and the boys, which would almost always end at someone's pad with Sports Center and pizza. There would be a ten minute debate, each of us making a case for toppings and our favorite pizza joint, until a consensus was reached and an order was placed. Then we would all dig deep for crumpled bills and pocket change to cover the pie (and a little something for the driver). I could eat almost a whole pie back then, most of us could. But after a long night of partying and spending way too much money buying drinks for that cute chick in the corner (who was never going to give me her number anyway), the few bucks we had left wasn't going to get us more than a couple of slices each. So when the pizza finally arrived, it would be half gone by the time the delivery guy closed the door (you didn't want to be the guy paying the driver, trust me). The funny thing is, back then I don't think it really mattered where we got the pizza from or what we ordered on top. When all was said and done and the grease stained box lay empty on the living room floor, each of us would lie back and sound out a deep, satisfying groan of pleasure, as if we had just devoured the tastiest treat on planet Earth. Night after night, pizza after pizza - and each time with the same satisfying moan and a big smile. And then one day we suddenly realize (as if the past 20 years caught us asleep at the wheel) that we are actually driving 20 miles across town, through rush hour traffic and lights on a mission to destroy us, all the time conflicted about whether we should even try parking or just pay the $5 for valet, then zigzagging a half a mile through crowds and crowds of bewildered tourists stopping at every little sparkling thing they see, then up three long flights of escalators, stuck behind some woman who is clearly unaware that the ocean of perfume she bathed in that day is causing the wallpaper to peel (cough!) - just to grab a slice from the only place we swear we will ever eat pizza from again. My how things do change. So now's the time for some good news - if you live on the West side (or if you're up for a drive) stop by Those Guys Pies. It's everything you used love about Secret Pizza (apparently the guy is over here now), without the hassle that is the Cosmopolitan.
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