Josh Rank is a friend of the site.

About half our writers know him; I think Sto Cazzo briefly lived with him, and I can vaguely remember drunkenly playing Silver Strike Bowling against him the same night I got lost in downtown Milwaukee and puked immediately after trying to jump a parking meter (or something similar to a parking meter).

But he’s not just a DoZ friend. He’s also a hell of a writer. Since day one, we have linked his blog, These Things I Know, which is equal parts hilarious and insightful. And earlier this year, he self-published his first book, Reflection in the Crosswalk, a story of a 15-year-old boy’s death and the impact it has on a small town.

The former Appleton and Milwaukee resident now lives in Atlanta. He was gracious enough to write a guest review of a pizzeria in his neighborhood. It is below.

I was excited when I was asked to do an article for the Doctors of Za. I love pizza and I love judging people. Perfect. Then came the question of where to go. I was told Nancy’s Pizza was the best around, but upon further research I learned they are from Illinois. So fuck that. My roommate’s girlfriend is from here and she often frequents a place called Fellini’s. I trust her judgment on all matters relating to pizza. She is known as the “Pizza Monster,” as she mainly lives on Jack’s frozen pizzas, eating about seven pizzas, by herself, every day. So, I took her advice and checked it out.

Fellini’s Pizza (909 Ponce De Leon Ave NE, Atlanta, GA 30306) is located in a pretty heavy bar area known as “The Highlands,” meaning that I have stumbled into this place at 2:30 in the morning, inhaled a slice of pizza, and walked around trying to find someone gracious enough to give me a cigarette. I vaguely remember eating a slice of pizza about the size of a standard face. I also vaguely remember finding a computer monitor on the way home and smashing it, to find my hands wet from the rainwater/piss/bum juice filling the inside of it. Needless to say, a precedent had been set. However, daylight and Fellini’s just haven’t gone together for me. Until now.

I elected to call ahead and place a take-out order. The interior of the place is fairly standard, metal chairs and metal tables, but the patio is where the money’s at. Patio tables with umbrellas. Perfect for fighting off the bees while you try to eat. But, I was alone and didn’t want to look like a boner eating an entire pizza by myself so I retreated to my apartment where I could share the pizza with my dog and creepily stare at the girls at the pool. It’s a pretty great feeling; annihilating slice after slice and drinking alone while watching hot girls hang out with douchebag dudes. Kinda makes you want to blast The Haunted and ruin their day. But I didn’t do that. I just ate. A lot.

I chose the “White Pizza,” because I’m racist. It’s a vegetarian pizza (mozzarella cheese, fresh garlic, oregano, ricotta cheese) that I decided to nut-up by adding meatballs, because, of course, everything is better with meatballs. Sandwiches, drinks, outfits, all made better by adding meatballs.

The Good: My memory of giant slices was spot on. And I stand by the assessment of them being about the size of a standard face. The pizzas had a thin crust, but not the paper-thin kind that usually gets cut into squares. There’s still the outer crust you can grab a hold of and one-hand the slice, leaving the other hand open to do pretty much whatever you want with it.

The Bad: I know it’s my fault for getting the White Pizza so I can’t really slam Fellini’s for it, but there was no sauce. Cheese, crust, and meatballs, that’s it. It was still good, but I like having sauce dripping down my face when I bite into a slice (interpret that however you like).

Try: the single slice option. One face-sized slice is perfect for burying the beer and shame you wracked up during a night at the bars.

Rating: Overall, it was a good experience. I think the dog liked the pizza more than I did, but she’s used to eating paper and woodchips so her opinion is a little skewed. I can’t wait to throw down this twelve pack and forget I bought it, only to open the refrigerator and find the box smiling at me from the bottom shelf. Then the circle of life will be complete and I can eat the rest before climbing Pride Rock and looking down at my kingdom.

Atlanta, Guest Review, Josh Rank