I love pizza. I don’t know exactly why I love it so but I do. In fact,
\nif I had to take just one food along with me to a desert island, pizza would
\nbe it. Never mind that I don’t know why I’m going and why I actually get to
\nmake this choice. Pizza would be going with me.<\/p>\n
The funny thing is I don’t think I really care what this theorectical pizza
\nhas on it, as long as there isn’t a vegetable in sight. Give me sausage, pepperoni,
\nground beef, ham, bacon, extra cheese, or some combination thereof and I’m game.
\nYou’d think that if I have to eat this thing for the rest of my life, I’d
\nbe pretty choosy, but I’m not.<\/p>\n
Maybe there is a life lesson to be learned here.<\/p>\n
Some of you would undoubtably suggest that straight cheese is the way to go.
\nAfter all, you better go the safe route and stick with something normal and simple.
\nThere may some truth to that. However, wouldn’t you want something to loosen up
\nall that cheese you’ll be eating, maybe even something spicy? Others may suggest
\na pizza with everything on it. Pick off the stuff you don’t want and save it for
\nlater. Maybe even feed the local rats the extras to fatten them up. That sounds
\nway too close to logic there folks. I’ll have none of that in this conversation.
\nEven so, what if the pizza delivery guy waits for me and watches me eat it, just
\nto make sure. I’m unlikely to piss off my primary source of food, particularly if
\nthe only alternative are the rats from the first episode of Survivor (maybe Richard
\ncould go get me some fish and stay clothed while he’s at it). The fact that
\nI don’t really care at this point means that laziness even has its place far
\nout in the ocean where only the pizza man knows the directions or simply that
\nI’m not the picky eater my mom always said I was.<\/p>\n
Do I think I could sustain myself on any such diet? Sure. Why? Well, two
\nreasons. One, I love pizza (see above). Two, I have the track record. I worked
\nat a deli (actually a Pizza & Deli) for 4 years in college and ate pizza nearly
\nevery day I worked there. That means that pizza entered the cavern I call my
\nstomach pizza about 3 days a week for years and I never got sick of it. Never.
\nI can’t help but feel a bit proud … and a bit ashamed (but more proud,
\nparticularly in that macho, fraternity sort of way).<\/p>\n