While back in God's country brother Mark, Holly and I made a trip, nay, a pilgrimage to Mount Pleasant Iowa to soak up the academia of Iowa Wesleyan College, and to have a pizza at Jerry's. Best pizza in the world. I mean it, bring anything else on, and bring it from New York, Chicago or Italy, there simply isn't a better one than Jerry's. Mind you it has to be a sausage. I'm surprised at graduation our mortorboards weren't round and emblazoned with Jerry's logo. Just as important as the mandatory RSI program, or Phi Delta Theta's community service project, a night at the West Side, or listening to Merle Unkrich's boring pep talks about his good old days, Jerry's was a weekly investment in surviving another week.
Practically swimming in my anticipatory juices, I am allowing a quick picture before diving in mouth first.
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