Hi, dickholes!

I know, I know. It’s been a while. All right, maybe an entire year, down to the exact day. The truth is, l fell off a cliff in a drunken rage and then I died. I’ve made a full recovery since, and I took the liberty to get five additional penises implanted on my forehead during my surgeries.

Anyway, a lot of very silly (insane) things have happened since my last post, We Try the Worst Vape Flavors Known to Man. Like this.

Whoa.

I probably should have told you guys, uh, last year. When it happened. But, I was too busy procrasturbating.

Just to catch up — I am still cooking at Paulie Gee’s Logan Square as a pizza maker. Making pizza is very hard but I am getting better every day. In fact, I am doing so well, I do interesting things like drop pies at outdoor cooking festivals.

Dropping a very nice pizza is the highest achievement any pizza maker can aspire to.

So not only am I the greatest food writer in all of history, I am also the greatest pizza maker that has ever lived.

But, really, the best thing to happen to me is Davida, who has moved back from Nevada to Wisconsin (way closer to Chicago, thank God), and as you can see, we are doing very well.

I did not think losing my car and writing about sneaking meat into a Korean barbecue restaurant would save me from an emotional wasteland of utter loneliness, but the Internet is a place of marvels, intrigue, and really interesting porn. The Pizzle is the weirdest version of online dating I’ve ever seen. Seriously, all of you single people should start a food blog where you eat meals entirely comprised out of penises. You never know what might happen after a big mouthful of bull cock.

Don’t worry, guys. I’m still up to my usual garbage.

Derrick won’t let me serve baby food pizza to guests, but that doesn’t mean I’m ever going to stop trying. Also that baby food pizza tasted extremely sour. Babies eat garbage all day because they do not know better. When the baby rebellion arises, I will nod at the raging babies and say, “I understood this whole time.” Later, in the history books, I will be regarded as the baby champion.

One day, The Pizzle’s think tank came together and thought, “Dannis Ree, which spray food would be best to shave your extremely sparse body hair with, namely your filthy mustache? No, seriously. Your mustache is disgusting. Make it go away.”

Okay, okay, the think tank is Davida. She is very good at coming up with great ideas. I hope she keeps me.

As we all know, food can be used for all sorts of things other than eating and cramming up asses. Can it be used to help shave body hair? I went to the store and purchased whipped cream, cupcake icing, latte foam (I did not know this was something that existed), non-stick flour baking spray, spray margarine, and Easy Cheese.

To confirm, here is a picture of the worst facial hair in the world.

I have like, ten chin hairs, and with another ten random hairs on my cheek that I always miss when I shave, occasionally resulting in a giant long hair growing out the side of my face. There is a sparse and sporadic patch under my bottom lip. Even a frog could grow a better beard than me.

This is four days worth of growth. You guys should see my ass, though. I’d make a great version of Rapunzel.

I started with the whipped cream.

I look like a Korean Colonel Sanders.

Ignoring the fact that I also look like Kim Jong Un with nice glasses, I started shaving with the whipped cream.

Whipped cream worked better than say, nothing at all. However, it left a lingering layer of fat that was difficult to get off my chin. I’d definitely use it in an emergency. Me not shaving this creepstache for more than two days is an emergency.

The next product I tried is called the One Touch Latte by International Delight.

It tastes like a mommy food blogger giveaway prize, cloyingly sweet, and totally pointless.

This stuff foams up kind of like actual shaving cream.

Well, maybe it’s a little too foamy. When I introduced a little bit of water, it deflated quickly and I had to apply more. It did taste good in small quantities, but I do not recommend eating little bits of shaved mustache hair while shaving, because come on, man, that’s gross. Otherwise, it works pretty well, but you have to reapply it often.

Bakers Joy is a non-stick cooking spray that contains flour.

It may work wonders on your grandma’s recipe for banana bread, but it is not fun to apply to your own face.

Baker’s Joy is very grainy and greasy, just like a load of old man semen.

Not that I’d know, or anything.

For shaving purposes, it’s gummy and doesn’t work very well. The grainy texture makes the shaving experience pretty awful and inefficient. My favorite part was the burning sensation it imparted on my upper lip.

Next up was the canned decoration icing.

It was very important to me to use the leaf tip, which highly resembles the head of a penis.

What a money shot!

It’s like the Incredible Hulk and I were playing a game of ookie cookie except he missed and hit my face.

I learned that a little bit of frosting goes a long way.

It got really stringy for some reason. Davida said it looked like guitar strings, while I thought it looked like spider silk. It actually works well as a shaving cream replacement, and when I looked at the back of the can, I discovered there is some fat in the ingredient list, making for a smoother shave.

In the history of all food photography, this is the most magnificent photo ever taken.

All of you other food bloggers can stop trying, forever.

Sorry to break it to you guys, but Easy Cheese does not make for a good replacement for shaving cream.

It basically filled up my razor, and it was too thick to do much with. That, and the smell stayed under my nose for the rest of the experiment. Do not use Easy Cheese to shave your face.

The last test was I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter.

Davida and I both took a spritz of this Parkay shit. She decided it tastes like fish (it does), and I decided that it tastes like old bread. There’s a negligible amount of fat per spray, but for something so thin-bodied, it ended up being the best of the bunch for shaving purposes. Unfortunately, it also left a bit of a burning sensation, but this an example of the sacrifice that the greatest food writer in the world must make for you.

All finished!

Normally it doesn’t take me an entire hour to shave, but it was worth it. Mustache-free, I’m legally allowed to leave the house again.

Please thank her for taking all of the photos from today.

Sorry I’ve been gone so long, everyone. Thank you for poking at me to get back into it. I can’t promise weekly posts — but I’m not finished yet, not by a long shot. Harvey and Mr. Bee have missed you so much.

Davida also has some things to say:

Hey guys, Yoko here.

I have to say that I really like actually being a part of The Pizzle now. At first I was content just being Dennis’ number-one supporter, but he stole my foam finger and kept trying to jam it up his ass so I gave up and promoted myself to Official Sidekick.

Most (all?) of these experiments naturally pose some kind of danger to Dennis, but it’s usually because of the garbage he ingests, being a food blog. We have Poison Control on speed dial for a reason. But this one actually made me kind of nervous because of the razors involved, and the fact that some of the spray products probably weren’t the best lubricant. No, not that kind of lubricant—that’s the next post.

Watching Dennis was like watching someone juggle knives. I expected blood. In fact, I began to thirst for it. Sadly, no such luck. Dennis came away from the whole experiment with a face like a baby’s ass.

He covered all of my observations above (I took the notes for this post and one thing he didn’t mention is that after a bottle of wine I misspelled “doesn’t” as “doenn’st”) so I’m going to skip that and just say that I’m thankful to everyone who pushed Dennis to start writing again. We did a good thing here. Not only is Dennis back to shitting out schadenfreude for all you thirsty nerds to enjoy, but he seems genuinely happy doing it. Overall, my favorite part of the experiment wasn’t the pictures, or the writing, or even the copious amounts of alcohol. My favorite part was hearing him pause while we were talking about it earlier today and say, “I’m excited.”