Posts Tagged ‘pizza’

Everyone reading this right now eats. Knowing what I do about you, you probably eat way too much. It’s fine. I eat a lot too. In the last year alone my eating escapades have included an entire box of cereal three times in one sitting, an entire roasted chicken in one standing (sitting would have only delayed eating time), and most happily my adventure eating an entire stick of butter just because I could. Maybe the butter was actually two years ago but I’m mentioning it anyway because I’m trying to impress women here. The way to a man’s heart is by being impressed with how much he can eat. And that’s what we’re going to talk about today, the eating habits we have from the time we’re birthed to the time we tragically die skydiving at age 90.

(Last Wednesday I was sick so I ate a box of waffles and a box of Wheat Thins because you’re supposed to starve a cold and feed a fever. I had a fever. I had to make sure to feed it)

When we’re first born we can’t eat much. We either suck everything out from a tit (oh to be a baby again) or have crummy mashed fruits and vegetables. I think it was 4 years ago when I actually bought a thing of baby food to taste it. Very disappointing. The baby on the label looked much happier than I was. I don’t remember eating at all when I was a baby. I do remember seeing one picture of me at around 3-4 when I wasn’t fat. Really, a picture of me not looking fat was the rarest thing on earth. Indiana Jones would have risked his life to find this relic. I must have been a bad boy and was denied food for a while because there’s no other explanation for why the boy who had to be tempted with candy to finally use the toilet would look so slim.

(Lifesavers are what my mom gave me once I finally took a dump in the real toilet. I don’t remember how old I was but I was old enough to remember her sitting on the tub’s edge staring at me as I let my chips fall)

Once school starts eating becomes more of a social thing. At a young age we eat to survive and block out the pain of not having every toy we want. In elementary school they made us sit with our classes to eat lunch. I guess they thought this was safer than having kids run around all over the place. Then scientists did tests on the food they were serving and realized they were killing us with cardboard pizza. I bought lunch 4 days of the week I was such a foodie. I only cried once about lunch because it was chicken cheesesteak and my dad told me it was regular cheesesteak. I cried so hard I was hoping they would send me hope. God forbid I try something new. And guess what, I actually liked chicken cheesesteak! That’s what I miss most about kindergarten, crying and getting sent home which I did very often.

When middle school started we got to pick who we sat with. Or I can put that another way and say the girls got to choose not to sit anywhere near me. The cafeteria food was a bit better and they had real Dominos every Friday. For I think $8 you could buy an entire pie. The key to this was not bringing lunch on Fridays. You would befriend a rich kid who nobody liked and would have cash to buy an entire pie. Even I have never finished an entire pizza. Toward the end of lunch the person you’re taking advantage of will see he has a lot of food left. Not wanting to be wasteful he would offer you a slice or two. My friends caught onto the strategy me and another fat kid used every Friday. He was actually poor. I was just a master of manipulation.

(Stupid Matt would grease himself up and carry an empty bowl with him in hopes people would toss pizza into it. Stupid kid. You can’t eat pizza from a bowl)

I only ate lunch in high school the first two years. The lines were so long that it wasn’t worth it if you weren’t first in line. I usually spent lunch doing homework. My time at home was the time I could eat. This was also around the same age when you could go out with your friends and eat. I think I went out for pizza once with a friend. My dad took us then he went outside to smoke because at least his cigarettes couldn’t grow up to be queer like he was certain I was on my way to. The worst was always going out with your family to eat and seeing classmates there without adult supervision. You’d always have to pretend your parents weren’t your parents; they were kidnappers who happened to have the same hairlines. I remember at Pizza Hut telling my parents to call me Scott because I was so embarrassed of a kid whose mom drove a school bus of making fun of me.

After high school ends you’re pretty much on your own when it comes to eating. Your parents toss you out on the street with a bag of bread and an egg and flip you the bird then send you on your way. At least this is what my life was. Adults have strange eating habits. Adults either have no shame or all they do is have shame. I’ve seen hot girls eating in their cars. My hand to God’s nose or however the saying goes, hot girls! What’s a hot girl doing eating in her car? That’s where creeps like me eat. Look under my car seats, there are pieces of food I haven’t eaten in months. I guess it’s better than what other adults do. Adults who attack any piece of food they see like they’re some starving mouse. I never want turn into someone without dignity.

(You’re so beautiful! Put the cake down! You’re going to end up working in my office if you don’t and your life will revolve around the monthly birthday celebration)

I’m not sure what really old people do foodwise. My only inkling is my grandfather yelling at me to keep my elbows off the table. Does prune juice still exist? I know geezers like that stuff because when you get to a certain age you drink foods that in their solid form resemble your face.

I’ve been seeing a lot of transsexuals lately. No matter where I am; the subway, the store, the meat-packing district, I’m bound to find a 6’2 man with a tucked in wiener ready to call me daddy. For the right price of course. Today was different though. I didn’t see any trannies. I did see two delivery men. The unsung heroes of our laziness. Today, I pay a tribute to you.

(Lady Gaga, well-known tranny who I guess you could say works delivering poison to our eyes and ears)

I have a lot of respect for people who work delivery jobs. They’re tough. You have to move objects from one place to another. When did Star Trek take place? Wasn’t it like 2013? And we’re not really even close to developing teleportation. What a filthy liar of a show. The thing most people have delivered is food. The two guys I saw today were delivering the most common foods for delivery, pizza and Chinese. I didn’t bother to ask what they were “hauling.” That’s more of a question for truckers. Delivery men aren’t usually much for talking. They’re only in their cars for a 10 mile radius at most and don’t get as lonely for small talk as a trucker would. I still said hello to the portly Dominoes man who called me dude. He was a very large man. I have a feeling my neighbors received a half eaten pizza.

Where I currently live, I’ve had two things delivered. One was my furniture. The other was Chinese food by a, get this, Spanish guy! I mean full-blown Spanish. One of them Spanish people you see in Robert Rodriguez films. When I brought me my food I called him a race traitor then threw his tip on the ground. My furniture was much more fun to have arrive. I spent two weeks sleeping on a couch and using an overturned book shelf as a dinner table. My days were spent doing Sudoku puzzles and evenings spent watching my grandchildren. You can tell someone is depressed when they buy a book of Sudoku puzzles and complete half of it. A white guy and a black guy delivered my furniture. They set up my bed and everything. It was cool to have a team of ebony and ivory in my home. I felt like I was living Lethal Weapon 3.

(Riggs looks pissed. The new commissioner must be a Jew, woman, or anything not-white)

Back in the olden days when baseball players drank more beer to get bigger muscles, other things were delivered to the home. Milk probably being the strangest of these deliveries. If there was a milk man I would definitely use him. I drink a lot of milk. I’m pretty sure I have Madcow disease because of it. Newspapers were also delivered to homes. I guess they still are, but who really reads a newspaper? There’s a little something called Good Morning America that can give you news faster than any newspaper. Did you know Matt Lauer has a light peanut allergy? You never would have known that if you were some geezer who still reads the newspaper.

You could consider taxi drivers as deliverers of people. But if you do that you also have to consider bounty hunters delivery men. I bet bounty hunters get a chubby in the front of their pants every time they see the letters “DOA” on a wanted sign. They can be more careless with their work. Crazy people are sometimes delivered places. Outpatient programs will come to homes then bring the manically nuts to their lair for crafts and group talks. Don’t ask me how I know a lot about outpatients programs. Let’s just say my lack of athleticism isn’t the only genetic shit storm I have cooking up in my DNA.

(Boba Fett proves you don’t need a mullet to be a lawman)

Way before Netflix I had an idea for movies to be delivered to your home via car. I figured my parents and older sister could be drivers, my younger sister could answer the phones, and I could sit back and do boss things like sitting back in my chair wasting space. Like all my ideas, this was brilliant with obvious flaws. A caller would call in and say “What do you got?” and I’d have to name everything from Abba: Live in Concert to Zorro: The Gay Blade. It would take so long that they’d die of exhaustion and never actually be able to place their order. Luckily I was 12 when this idea came around and could use the excuse of hormones as to why I was so dumb.

Best Buy or as I will call it from now on, Best Buy It Somewhere Else If You Want A Decent Price, has that thing the Geek Squad now. I don’t know how much they deliver things. I guess delivering your own nerdy skills could be considered. Geek Squad members are probably the safest to be around. I know women are not allowed to deliver pizzas as some places due to fear of rape. Firstly nobody would ever rape a Geek Squad member. Secondly no poor old woman with a busted alarm clock would ever need to be worried about being raped by the Geek Squad member. He’s too nervous to put the moves on his best friend he’s known all his life. There’s no way he’ll be able to de-robe her in time before her husband returns from his afternoon duck feeding session.

(He better not be doing the “hole at the bottom of the popcorn bag” trick)

I hope you always show respect toward those hardworking delivery people. You should always tip. Even if it’s you joking and saying “Hey buddy, here’s a tip for ya!” then tell them about other job opportunities. There are so many things that are delivered nowadays that I barely tapped into it. Of course the most famous delivery men of all-time, the mailmen. They come there every day. Their motto is such that they will brave any element to bring you your bills. So the next time you see someone delivering to a lazy bastard send them a salute. They’ve cut off three cars and ran over a cat to get you your hot wings on time. It’s the least you could do in return.

“Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You”

That’s the Golden Rule. I remember first hearing it in elementary school. Back then they worded it differently because the Indian kid’s mom complained. I guess in modern times, when your God looks like Goro from Mortal Kombat, you have a lot to be upset about. He was always a tough opponent. That’s way they waited until the END OF THE GAME!!! to make you fight him.

(If you believe in a God with multiple arms I am sorry to offend you. Hey, my Christian God can only eat 2 cookies at a time. Yours can eat 4. You made the better wrong choice.)

“Treat People The Way You Want To Be Treated”

It’s more clear for children that way anyway. The word “unto” would have frustrated me as a kid. U’s were my most difficult letter to remember. I could remember W, but not a single U. U’s should be called “Double V’s.” I don’t know anybody that isn’t a serial killer that makes W’s without sharp bottoms on them. I don’t know who came up with the name. Probably some Greek queer. I’m surprised that same ass doesn’t call M’s “Upside Down Double U’s” and call Z’s “Sideway N’s.” No wonder their empire fell apart. Good riddens. What have you done for me lately?

(Julius right before being stabbed by his loyal friend Cassius Papa John)

I try to live my life with the Golden Rule intact. I do treat people the way I want to be treated, almost. The problem is, there are some people that I would like to come up behind me and grab my genitals. There are a lot of people like this. I’d say in the world, I could find one million human beings who I would like to take off their clothes and rub their asses against my leg. One million might be aiming low too. But that’s not the point. The point is, the golden rule is not legitimate.

What the golden rule should say is “Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do Unto You, Except Don’t Touch Anyone In The Process.” I would love to touch a lot of people and would love if they touched me back. But even with the golden rule in place, that is not going to happen. Who do I blame? Society! Jesus came down to this earth from his spaceship and gave us his wisdom. He said clearly for us to do to people what we would like them to do to us. There were no loopholes for him. He was clear in what he said, like the rest of the Bible is. And now, society tells me that I can’t go around doing unto hot chicks as I would like them to do unto me. I am not very happy.

How does a boy like me continue to live his life with the golden rule and still be accepted by society? I can’t. I have to instead treat people with respect and hope that they do the same to me. That’s all there is for me to do. I’m playing it all by ear. Shooting from the hip. Seeing that the grass is greener on the other side. And more unfitting clichés.

When I become in charge of the world, the golden rule will be very simple.

“Leave Me Alone And I Shall Leave Thy Alone Too”

Things always sound more reliable with words like shall and thy.