STEPH DEROSA: TASTY SALAD, AND A NASTY TEXT >>>

Farrelli’s Wood Fired Pizza, DuPont location
Phil’s Creation
Price: Whole $9.99, Half $7.99
Rating: Three out of four croutons

DuPont is the perfect spot to stop for a bite to eat as you’re escaping out of town to the south. On a Friday evening, my family and I found ourselves past the Fort Lewis exit and heading into some grizzly traffic on southbound I-5. Taking up an hour to deter us from gridlock, and filling our bellies for the trip ahead, the DuPont exit made our dinner stop effortless â€" and off to a DuPontite-packed Farrelli’s Wood Fired Pizza it was.

Description: A crisp iceberg/romaine lettuce combination tossed in creamy and sweet honey mustard dressing hid beneath a fortune of texture and goodies. Pineapple, caramelized onions, crushed cashews, roasted chicken breast, and cheddar cheese piled charitably atop the lettuce mix â€" and it was at that point I figured it simply couldn’t get any better. I was wrong. With a delicious drizzle of hot bacon dressing, it did nothing but get better â€" WAY better.

Taste: Did I mention the hot bacon dressing? I know what you’re thinking. The trendy, over-marketed love for bacon is so passé, right? Honestly, I could give a shit. I still love the salty goodness those strips of fried-up pork belly can do for my faded taste buds. With a complex tongue lashing of sweet pineapple, caramelized onions, soft cheddar cheese, and delicious cashews, there isn’t anything I don’t like in this salad bowl. Seriously, folks, who doesn’t love the taste of cashews â€" those sweet, crunchy legumes disguised as nuts?

Conclusion: Let’s go ahead and put it out there â€" there’s nothing low-fat about this salad. It’s gluttonous, hearty, delicious, and decadent. I feel as though I might as well have had that pizza the rest of my family was eating. (That pizza, by the way, was FIVE DOLLARS OFF thanks to the coupon we found inside a Weekly Volcano.) Only difference is maybe I got a bit more roughage from the lettuce. You remember, the lettuce that was covered in delicious honey mustard dressing? Yeah, that lettuce.

Dressing on the side
OH. MY. GAWD. I’ve misfired texts before (just ask Patricia Lecy-Davis of Embellish Multispace Salon), but the one I received this weekend TOOK the friggin’ CAKE. It didn’t just nicely walk up and steal a piece of cake. No. It ran up, did a cartwheel, masturbated, screamed loudly, and then ran of with the whole damn 12-layer devil’s food chocolate cake.

Wanna know what kind of text it was? It was a SEXT. Yes! I accidentally received a misfired SEXT! (“Sex text”, for all you Star Trek fans who haven’t had sext before.)

Just for shits and grins, I wanted to type this sext out. I wanted to see how much of it got past my editor, but I can’t. It starts out fine saying, “Tonight you’re going to dream about me, when you close your eyes … blah, blah, blah,” but then it gets pretty explicit. It goes into graphic detail about the beginning of what I can only assume will be an extremely satisfying sexual encounter, via text, that is.

I have no idea who it is, and I’m not sure I want to know. I’m going to assume it’s a girl talking to a guy, and they’ve done the dirty deed before. The text I received moments after the illicit sext read, “I AM SO SORRY I sent that to the wrong number.” This whole deal is classic, simply classic.

 What I would like to say to the sender of this sext is â€" Don’t feel bad. You accidentally sent your sext to the best person. We’ve all done it (those of us who are fundamentally sexual), and we’ve all misfired texts to some degree. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, and I fully support you “gettin’ it on” with this individual via texting.

[Farrelli’s Wood Fired Pizza, 1570 Wilmington Dr., Suite 280, DuPont, 253.912.5200]