But once we’ve been fortunate enough to experience the special sentiments of both feeling love for, and being loved by another, how should it be shown? In all, there’s no single answer to that question. Be it: The occasional sweet note a passionate, work-bound young Turk leaves by the coffee pot as his lover sleeps; the way in which you each align your breaths to make the brisk autumn air billow before you while strolling on a romantic lakeside path; knowing full-well you’d volunteer your life to save hers without a second thought on the matter; simply telling the other “I love you” even half the time the thought comes to mind.

Contingent on the life to which you’ve willingly attached yours, there are infinite methods to display one’s affection for another. However, an easily-sold and wildly uncreative contemporary American society has essentially ritualized the practice of showing love. “Thoughtful” displays of candy, flowers, jewelry, upscale dining and pre-written cards have streamlined this once beautiful and vital process, transforming modern “love” into a largely calloused and deeply impersonal industry.

Yet there is one present practice that conveys all the emotion of a Keats sonnet, all the glimmer of a rare opal, all the scarcity of a prized truffle, and the speciality of spice tirelessly transported direct from The Orient. The motherfucking heart-shaped pizza.

Worth the decreased pizza circumference.

Valentine’s Day is a day that makes me want to commit suicide (slightly more than usual) whether or not I’m in a relationship when it hits. Merely taking part in the formality serves as a reminder that you’re not part of the individualized and organically loving couple you envision yourself to be, but rather of the majority of the country that cuts corners in their relationship, watches reality TV together, and who needs an excuse to have a night out followed by sub-par sex. However, not celebrating V-Day serves as a reminder of your loneliness. It’s lose-lose, really.

But the heart-shaped pizza is one aspect of this Hallmark Holiday I can get behind. It’s the only event I know about where the world’s best food is re-shaped to fit its specifications… save for that Monday in late January when I was served a Za that, by coincidence, kind of resembled to Dr. King. Yeah, a pumpkin- or turkey-shaped pizza would be more badass, and I’d totes sling jizz for a Yom Kippur-shaped pizza (mostly because that’s not a real shape) — but as far as pizzas being shaped as things goes, I’ll take what I can get.

The heart-shaped pie offered around the country on Valentine’s isn’t actually shaped like a real heart (try Maria’s Pizza for that), but I find it both touching and ironic that a pizza can be fashioned to look like a heart, while simultaneously destroying the hearts of those who consume it. It’s almost Shakespearean in that way. So this Valentine’s Day, when you’re tempted to go through with another cliched night of wine, pricey food and store-bought sentiments of half-assed thoughtlessness, stay in instead. Put on some James Brown, pour your better half a glass of their favorite micro brew, slap a novelty apron on yourself and your significant other, and make homemade heart-shaped pizzas together. To go the extra mile, offer to clean up. 

Trust me, DoZ readers. It may seem like a cheap cop-out, but some of my favorite times with girls involved us making meals together. And not to toot my own horn here, but let’s just say I know my way around a romantic gesture.

I really did.

In the past, I’ve deconstructed a Jonas Brothers video, and posted a list of decent pizza clips during times when the site’s activity was down … or when I didn’t foresee eating at a new pizza place in the near future. Today is no different. I happened upon this Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tribute clip that uses the song “Pizza Power” as background music.

Previously being known as a cold-blooded species with a, like, 200-year life span, who’s slow ass beat some dickhead rabbit in a race one time — the fictional addition of toxic waste to the boring-ass testudines (of the reptilia class) proved all the difference in making one of the nerdiest animals in Mother Nature’s womb into a lovably badass marketing monsoon.

Being a 25-year-old Midwestern dude, I grew up in the heyday of turtles. And I bought into the hype. My Turtle love prompted my parents to waste much of their meger astronaut and first female senator of Wisconsin salaries on plastic (probably lead-based paint) toys. I saw all the movies; my ratty, likely rectangular lunchroom pizza-stained, sweatpants probably routinely tightened at the thought of both the animated and motion picture April O’Neal; I wasted countless report card tokens at my local Shakey’s in effort to beat the Turtles arcade game; I even forgave the show’s creators for making me acknowledge famous painters, when all I wanted to do was kick some ass and spew out already-tired buzzwords.

Looking back at TMNT through this clip, I wonder how I could ever let myself get this involved in something so half-baked and nonsensical. I can’t deny that this franchise played at least a part in the person I am today — which is probably why I’m a complete loser. Appreciate it as I did, looking at it now, I’m left with more questions and criticisms about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles than I am nostalgic appreciation of it. Among them:

• Why are they so ripped? Beyond drinking Blatz sometimes and standing too close to microwave when I’m really hungry, I don’t have much experience subjecting my body to harsh toxins. But I seriously doubt toxic waste’s only impact on a creature would be giving its shell a six-pack and pecs that would make Andre the Giant blush, along with the ability speak, move quickly and grow to a human height. Compared to the turtles, the real-life humans who’ve been exposed to similar chemicals got the short end of super power stick… unless you think thyroid cancer and chromosomal abbreviation would be especially useful in defeating Shredder. 

• Raphael is the best turtle. Fact. Everybody I knew loved Leonardo or Michelangelo. I never got why. Sure, Leo was the best fighter and had the best weaponry, but he was a know-it-all dick who just bossed around the other turtles. He was flawless, which gets annoying to watch when you’re a fat 8-year-old with a stupid haircut and constantly chapped lips. And yeah, Michelangelo was the coolest turtle with his So-Cal dialect, his laid back demeanor  and his undying love for pizza. But I’m pretty sure he was legally retarded too. He’s like the Matt Dillon of mutated reptiles. 

Donatello was a straight up doucher (“I like inventing awesome shit and analysing things to no end, but choose to use a glorified STICK as my weapon of choice.”), but Raphael was the perfect balance of each turtle. He was the funniest, not the worst in battle, witty as hell and had a badittude like no other.

I’d like to think if they did a Turtles Go To College series, Raph would sink a shit-ton of pink and get drunk on the reg, Michelangelo would flunk out one semester in, Leo would die during a frat hazing ritual and Donatello would  transfer to a better school after getting his generals out of the way.

Hmm... it seems like more chicks should dig me.

• April O’Neil… not very hot. I know that redheads with berthing hips are a relative rarity, but what’s with that haircut? Not to mention that dehydrated-piss yellow jumpsuit she always wore. Is she do-able? Fucking A, she is… but I don’t know if her ass is worth saving 200 times in the series. However, I have to say, I appreciate her stance on eating out.

The trenchcoats never worked as a disguise. A 4-foot-tall turtle donning an open trench coat and a fidora makes the cliched two people in a horse costume seem like a passable disguise by comparison. Your skin is still green and largely exposed, turtles! At least get a fake beard of something.

What’s with the pizza? The “Pizza Power” video above fittingly shows the mutated teen turtles scarfing down an assload of Za. I’ve never seen pizza that 1. Is stackable, 2. Has only one pepperoni or piece of sausage per slice, 3. Has cheese so abundant and stringy… it looks like caulk with 100 fat grams, 4. Could be thrown like a Frisbee or rapidly spun without flying the fuck apart. 

Plus, no matter how physically taxing the ninja lifestyle may be, eating pizza for every meal (especially such liberally cheesy pizza) would take a toll on the inexplicably buff turtle exteriors. I eat pizza like once a week and I have a flat tire and 1.5 chins. TMNT lied to me! Who would’ve ever expected a fictional television series that depicted chemically-contaminated talking turtles as ninjas with insanely high metabolism levels might have a few inaccuracies? 

Turtle Power? I’m beginning to doubt it.