Pizza and Ice Cream: Mix. Them.
At night, when all the peasants go to sleep, I tiptoe to the kitchen, burglarize the fridge and make love to my food. I know how this sounds. But don’t worry, I haven’t gone mad. I’m just upset.
People don’t enjoy victuals anymore. They only eat to nourish their empty stomachs. Nobody makes time to get a second helping. I often dream of days past, when people would have those communal Friday food orgies. Gastric satisfaction has never been the same since.
Nowadays, people feed for comfort, to satisfy their base desires. Just today I tried to convert a few heathens, but my efforts were in vain.
Trying to spread my love to the masses, I divulged the greatest fast food secret of all time. Hot pizza and ice cream. Loved by soldiers and toothless toddlers alike, this combination is the ultimate aphrodisiac of the fast food world.
Bad on your hips but good for your bum, pizza and ice cream are like Amy Poehler and Tina Fey: excellent on their own but divine when combined. The gourmet flavour of anchovy pizza and Neapolitan ice cream is my personal weakness.
The greatest chefs swear by its succulence. Just ask Gordon Ramsey. Yet, to my awful dismay, this revelation garnered nothing but incredulity and ridicule from the simpletons around me.
Still, these fatheads are only the products of their barren environment. The true culprits are those nasty celebrity fitness gurus who have the gall to fling the n-word—the all-dreaded “nutrition”—like it’s a thirty-ounce piece of sirloin steak.
I write this diatribe in the hopes of reaching tired and famished dieters. May your tummy grumble you awake tonight and force you into the kitchen to murder your fridge. I want you to.