Ask anyone that knows me well, I die for pie. I see pie and my eyes get really big, maybe even my boobs rise into my collarbone and I get a little heated. Almost like that time I was in Italy and Tony the Bello of Sorrento walked up to me on the beach while I was eating a loaf of bread in my bathing suit - and then proceeded to ask me out. Pie can last at least a week, while time with a hot man can be fleeting. But, trust me, good pie and man memories both last a lifetime.
Read More