Pizza in the morning. / Pizza in the evening. / Pizza at suppertime. / When pizza’s on a bagel, / you can eat pizza anytime.
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Pizza in the morning. Pizza in the evening. Pizza at suppertime. When a man looks in the eyes of a charging bull, and also knows himself, and knows that he is alive, and also complete, then, and only then…deserve to he eat pizza anytime.
‘Tis evening — dost I dare eat a bagel? / For morning cometh and I shall eat one then. / When pizza sits apeak a breakfast bagel, / tyme has actually no location in guiding as soon as to eat.
Bret Easton Ellis
Pizza in the morning. Pizza in the evening. Pizza at suppertime. When pizza’s on a bagel, you can eat it, all while doing a line of blow and also mindlessly fucking a hooker in a 3 thousand also dollar Armani suit.
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Pizza eyn the morne. Pizza eyn the eve. Pizza eyn suppere tyme. But currently, sire, — lat me se — what I shal seyn. A ha! by God, I have my tale ageyn. There shal be pizza faire any tyme!
When the peetsa go tumbledownloss theselse into yer mouth, come eve err ning, come suppah, then the taste goes hurtleturtled out of heaven from swerve of shore to bend of bay. Ay yet then the peetsa come on a bay gull, ay then it goes hobbledeedink anytime!
Pizza in the morning. Pizza in the evening. Pizza at suppertime. When pizza’s on a bagel, you should just eat that bagel if you are a mammoth among guys, a hero, a giant that holds the people on his shoulders, blood running dvery own your chest, your knees buckling, your arms trembling yet still trying to organize the human being aloft via the last of your strength… you and only you must have the need, the best, to eat that pizza anytime.
David Foster Wallace
So I guess what happens is that tbelow is pizza in the morning, pizza in the evening, pizza at, well, you can complete the rest. You know the jingle. We all do. It’s part of this people we prospered up in, dominated by advertisers, where we are shown (repeatedly, constantly, to the suggest of near perpetuity) the same jingoistic songs, the “He likes it! Hey Mikey!” repetitions that come component and parcel through being (flourishing up, living) as an American. W/r/t the pizza…well, yes, you can eat it at any kind of time. But in doing so, aren’t you sort of adhering to the extremely human being these ads are producing by/about/for us? From the start? And do we comply through this assertion that pizza, when put on a bagel, sort of exempts itself from the daily schedule of our lives (the breakfast/lunch/dinner paradigm lassist out by 1950s Leave It To Beaver, etc.) and also thus tries to (in a weird way) threaten the very heralding society it itself belongs to? And have to we also care?