Happy Pie Day, Anger Paraders

Man, I fucking love Pie. I love it so much that I spell it with a Capital P to highlight the divinity of Pie. Or something haughty and philosophical like that.

My favorite type of Pie, you ask? That's a really big question, but I'm relatively tradition (relative to what, I have no idea) in my love of Pie. A nice Dutch Apple crafted with fruit handpicked from my great grandmother Pauline's (Pie rest her soul) small orchard sits alone atop my Pie-power-tower, GodKing over all other baked goods. This is a sensation that lives on only in memory, however.
Lucky, there are many more tangible flavors more readily available. Rubarb Pie is a family favorite, and Huckleberry is a local delicacy that I miss. However, I've discovered a love of Pecan here in TX. Pumpkin Pie is, naturally, a fall favorite, and one rarely goes wrong with a sugar encrusted Peach Pie. Oh, and I almost forgot: The Olivia Munn Pie. Mmm mmmmmmm.

Now, lets talk a little bit about this whole cake vs. Pie thing: Don't you think...

Wait. Wait just a gods damned minute. I've just been informed that I'm a little off-base with this. Apparently - and I can't even believe I'm typing these fucking words - Apparently it isn't Pie Day. According to CNN, my go to source for light reading and current events, it's Pi Day. Instead of a day of celebration for the taste sensation that is a sugary filling baked into a crumbly, buttery crust, we're honoring a number. And it's not even a very exciting number! And really, it's a day for a symbol that represents a number, not even the digits themselves. How fucking esoteric and irrelevant is that?

Whatever. I'm going to go eat some fucking Pie. I leave you with this: