Talking about NYC, which you brought up, doesn't mean I am unaware of the west coast. Or any other part of the country. I wrote about Minneapolis just a few posts from here. Check it out.

"We" except for the folks who live there, work there, travel there, write about there…

No idea why you think my opinion of the city I grew up in has anything to do with art school kids. Or why that affects my taste in its pizza, or in thin crust pizza specifically, which is like pretending a ritz cracker is the same thing as a croissant.

Joke's on you, my favorite child is your son.

Shameful, but it seems to me that the pizza that can make a claim on being a "Minneapolis/St. Paul" institution is Heggie's, a frozen brand that gets heated and served in many of the local bars around town and can be purchased for home-baking.

Ha ha ha, that's adorable. You're adorable.

Are you asking us to Ray's our hands?

Those skirts don't take kindly to being called chicks either. Gals appreciate terms that aren't reductive or infantilizing. So do what I do: when a nice bit of trim walks in, don't look down on them by calling them "baby" or "sugar," build up the little lady by telling her she's looking very fetching today.

The Howl of the Wolf indeed.

Your old army drill instructor sounds a lot like my old daycare worker.

I prefer the fermented yeast extract of German prison camps, or as it's colloquially known, stalagmite.

I prefer the fermented yeast extract of downtown Seattle, or as it's colloquially known, SoDomite.

I prefer the fermented yeast extract of pineapples, or as it's colloquially known, Dolemite.

I meant number of fingers, but okay.

We were busier back then.

Back in my day, "sneaking in the back door to deliver a tight five" meant something entirely different.

Ret-conning that song to make it about cola really changes the immediacy of "don't let these shakes go on." Nobody wants a face-full of warm sugary fizz.

It doesn't hold up well to dippin' sauces?

I have a strange affinity for any kind of "prepared food" you can get at a gas station convenience store. The more baroque and unexpected, the better. Yes, I know it's not a real burger or a true chicken sandwich. Yes, I know the pizza in that cardboard container was heated in a microwave. Yes, there's something…

It irks me that the list's New Jersey entry (which sings the praises of pork roll, egg & cheese sandwiches) discusses Bruce Springsteen, but not the true heralds of this treat, Ween. I guess since they're from Pennsylvania, they don't warrant a mention. Still seems like bullshit to me.