You Make Me Feel So Young

It's been raining here in SoCal, not a very common occurrence, and the cold and wet kind of puts me in a 'comfort food' mood. And then, with the recent gunplay a few doors down, last night I didn't feel much like spending time in my kitchen, which faces South where the... unpleasantness happened. So I decided to buy a pizza.
   It's a decent local place, where they still make and toss their own dough. It's been a while since I've bought a pizza - made my own a few times - and it was good, pepperoni and Canadian bacon, which I've always called ham, but, whatever. Hot and cheesy and mmm-mmm good. But there is one after-effect of me eating pizza that always happens, it's inevitable.
   I break out like a thirteen-year-old.
   Yup, zit farm, more a factory, really. Usually starting underneath my chin, then spreading up under my lower lip to dig in at the corner of my mouth. Usually the sebum blockage skips the middle of my face, maybe one on the tip of my nose, and then I'll get a few up near my hairline, where they're really, really painful to pop. If it's commercial pizza there's a very good chance I'll get some backne too, which I haven't enjoyed regularly since my Sophomore year in college.
   It's a definite Faustian bargain, I get to enjoy the deliciousness that is cheese, meat, and sauce on thin crust, but I end up looking like an overgrown Honor Society goober with five o'clock shadow. All I'd need are the BC glasses with tape wrapped around the nose piece and I could be in the AV Club.
   I think the Universe is telling me to quit eating pizza. But I'm not gonna let that son of a bitch tell me what to do.