chronicles of wanking

I'm sort of lonely right meow, but no matter. Here is the unnabridged version of my predicted autobiography from 10 years down the road, in the form of a health assignment:

Ten years from now, I will be a disgraced writer of nonfiction-turned disgraced writer of children's books, and it will all be because of pizza. I will first falsify information about a study I claim to have conducted in which I ate nothing but Hot Pockets for several months. My daily intake supposedly consisted of the follwing: A breakfast pocket in the morning, the delicious pepperoni pizza pockets in the afternoons, and the vegetable/sausage/pepperoni pizza hot pockets for din-din. I will claim that, despite each respectable Pocket's 11 essential vitamins and minerals, being on a strict diet of them caused me to develop genital warts on my face (I guess those are just regular warts) and bleed profusely from the ears. Although upon further analysis my hypothesis will prove to not be entirely far-fetched, I will be disgraced within the writing community and forced to live in seclusion for several months.

During this time I will write children's books under the pseudonym of The Pizza Warlock. My pseudonym will then be disgraced within itself for my highly controversial first work, "The Pepperoni Manifesto: A Brief and Informative Introduction to the Goals and Ideals Held By The Pizza Party." In the Pepperoni Manifesto, I will propose an idea through which our entire economy is converted toward producing and relying upon nothing but Pizza. It will be our main export, import, and source of guiding light in the pursuit of happiness. Jobs will be assigned to all, regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation, or taste in music. Society will be comprised of farmers, chefs, soft drink-pourers, and those in charge of bread sticks and ceasar salads. Since no economy has yet proven to infallible, there will be government-issued Tombstone frozen pizzas for those who can not afford more high-quality pizzas.

The Pizza Party's Leader and HNIC will of course be The Pizza Warlock. His cabinet will consist of the Head Secretary of Seasoned Breads, The Department of Sauces and Cheese, and of course the department of Foreign Affairs (who will spend the bulk of their time figuring out ways to fight other countries that live under governments who like other kinds of food). We will be a country for the Pizza-eater, by The Pizza-eater.

Mysteriously enough, I will not be married for some time. However, this will be no matter of concern when I become the most powerful and dynamic man in all of American History. It will be all thanks to nothing but the love for pizza that myself and other Americans who aren't total weirdos share.





It may also be worth noting that, in relation to health class, my response to this assignment is a good example of "passive aggresive" behavior, brought on by the overwhelming feeling of bullshit that comes with having to take another semester of health to get the proper credits to graduate, when I could be taking a cool class like cooking or art instead.