vegansaurus!

Review: Panhandle Pizza!  »

A while ago, inspired by some of the pro-anorexia sicko talk threads that I compulsively read, I decided that I’m too fat to live. When bitches who are one-tenth your size are exchanging crash diet tips, it can have that affect on you. Anyway, someone listed a recipe for cabbage soup diet that is supposed to “clean you out” and “make you feel great.” Because I want to be cleaned out and also to feel great and mainly because I have low self-esteem, I decide to try this cabbage soup diet for a couple days. The other reason is that I obviously hate myself. I can think of no other excuse as to why someone would do this to themselves. I am fat and unworthy. Right, ladies? I mean, a multi-billion-dollar business is made off our self-hatred so I’m game! Let’s DO THIS! Seventy-three pounds or BUST!

My eating day went like this:
5:45 a.m. - Wake up! Ready to be cleaned out and feel GREAT! am excited to take on the day!

6 a.m. - Cabbage soup.
(6:15 a.m. - Stomach hurts and am actively upset at myself and those around me. Have murderous thoughts.)

7 a.m. - Cabbage soup.
(7:15 a.m. - Am thinking about how I am a modern-day Oliver Twist. Please sir, may I have some more? Am sad that in this day and age of amazing food, i am choosing to eat like pathetic Dickensian tramp. Am shocked that other women who want to lose those “last 10 pounds” would subject themselves to something so psychotic. Guess what ladies, ain’t nobody notice those 10 pounds anyway! YOU LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME and don’t nobody care! Your man is probably boning your fat best friend anyway! Clearly, I am still murderous.)

10 a.m. - Cabbage soup.
(10:15 a.m. - Conference call from hell that almost left me fired. Coincidence?)

12 p.m. - Cabbage soup.
(12:15 p.m. - Dry-heaving over a toilet because of disgusting cabbage soup. Cabbage soup is worse than water torture. Or being sodomized with a paddle made of hedgehogs.)

1 p.m. - Cabbage soup.
(1:15 p.m. - Have very bad farts from cabbage soup that clear out two desks around me and make me lose my appetite. I think this is a good thing. Hate my coworkers anyway.)

2 p.m. - Cabbage soup.
(2:15 p.m. - All I can think about are suicide scenarios and not eating cabbage soup ever again. I still have about 10 gallons left. Want to die. I am fat.)
(2:30 p.m. - Crying in a corner.)
(2:33 p.m. - Make a death threat against a coworker for “breathing too loudly”)
(2:40 p.m. - Crying in a bathroom stall)
(2:45 p.m. - The shakes have set in. I’m so hungry. I’m so, so hungry. I’m sad.)

3 p.m. - Order entire extra-large soy cheese cornmeal crust everything veggie pizza from Panhandle Pizza.
(3:30 p.m. - Eat chocolate bar while waiting for pizza.)
(3:35 p.m. - Feel guilty about chocolate, eat more cabbage soup.)
(3:45 p.m. - Fuck this noise, where the fuck is my pizza, I will eat my own hand!!!! Eat another candy bar given to me earlier by scared coworker.)

4 p.m. - Pizza arrives. Eat entire pizza. I am in heaven. It’s the best pizza ever A+++++ BEST QUALITY WILL DO BUSINESS AGAIN.
(4:05 p.m. - Pour cabbage soup down drain.)
(4:15 p.m. - Fat and happy.)

Moral of the story: stay the fuck off of internet talk threads. And though it’s not the perfect vegan pizza, it is a vegan pizza. And it still felt relatively healthy because of all the veggies, soy cheese and delicious cornmeal crust. I’m a fat. I meant, fan. I’m a fan.

Some notes: They use Follow Your Heart mozzarella and they use it sparingly, which I like. Even if you are not a fan of the veggie pizza because you don’t like mushrooms, olives, peppers, insert objectionable vegetable here, I still strongly suggest getting it. It’s way better than any of the other pizzas and I normally can’t stand mushrooms; they are the devil that grows from the ground. As far as delivery boundaries go, it really depends on who you talk to and what kind of mood they’re in. Sometimes they will deliver to the entire city, sometimes not. You can also eat in (there are a few table and chairs) or get a pizza to go and sit in the Panhandle of Golden Gate Park. Itsanice (that’s Italian for, “it’s nice!”)!

[photo via yelp]