"Picture this: It 's 2:45 am; the party has reached its conclusion all those LA 'friends ' you had over but bound to never see (aside from like 3) leave, and you 're left alone by your side, completely sozzled;You limber up; up half way up off the rug, your palate has an awakening. Your mind 's I floodgates have opened wide: your norepinephrine and dopamine receptors overflow and you feel a tingling sensation in your mouth: You begin salivating like a pavlov dog. And you are left in a big dilemma.You 're crunk. Drunk. And in a bind. Yes, those 49 cent insta ramen, will do, but you can do one better because you didn 't drop 80k dollars on a degree, and moved to LA only work a comfy job doing gig work and eat community college survival kits! No. You 're better than that.Just kidding. You 're not, but, fortunately for you,you just got that 350$ 'inflation relief ' debit card coincidentally (or strategically bequeathed right before the election ', and you have like a buck fifty left.It 's time to spurge mother f 'ers! Yipee Kiyay!But hold 'up! Stop the presses! Don 't most pizza joints close the blinds by like 2;00 am?Well, yes, but fortunately for you, you can have Classic Pizza and they deliver until 3:00 am!And Aside from the most generic name for a pizza restaurant, their bbq chicken pizza is actually pretty damn good.And as long as you 're sticking to the pizzas, you 'll be fine.Just avoid the desserts. Even when you 're drunk, you can taste the refrigerator burn from it.4/5"