I set a goal once, for myself
With dignity and grace
That I would do, before I died
A girl from every race
A list was in my pocket
I would check it off for fun
It wasn’t till the boxes filled
That my work would be done
The first, her name was Mary
She had red hair with a curl
Sure she was an albino
But I needed a “white girl”
The second took a lot of work
We did it in the snow
If you wanna hump in igloos
Find yourself an Eskimo
The third one was a Star Wars nerd
Who really loved Mace Windu
I slayed her with my saber
Then I promptly checked off Hindu
The fourth was quite an accident
Someone I wasn’t seekin’
I thought I tagged a Cuban girl
But she was Puerto Rican
The fifth and sixth confused me
Nailed them both on one occasion
Were they Chinese or Korean?
Hell, I’ll put two checks by “Asian”
The seventh was a great big mess
A hairy place to be in
But that’s the breaks you’ve got to face
When you go European
The eighth one was a black girl
And I surely set the right mood
She told me when we finished
I was awesome...for a white dude
The list seemed to go on and on
At times my plight seemed wacky
One time I risked both life and limb
To sleep with an Iraqi
Eventually my list was full
So I made a decision
Now that I’ve slept with every race
I guess I’ll bone religion
Dear Mama Celeste,
Let me start off by saying that your pizza is excellent. It is truly the king of the hill when I’m looking for a near-perfect meal that doesn’t require me cooking or waiting too long for it to be done. Some may argue that Hot Pockets are better, but don’t let that get to you. While I enjoy a “two minute miracle” as much as the next guy, when it comes to frozen entrees, I don’t think anyone can hold a candle to your authentic Italian cuisine.
But I do have a concern that I was hoping you could address. There’s no doubt that your pizza is incredibly delicious; the problem is, it just might be...too delicious. For the past seven years, I have been burning the roof of my mouth because I can’t help but eat the pizza as soon as it comes out of the microwave - without fail, every single time, for SEVEN years. At first, I thought it might be MY fault...I mean, shouldn’t I have learned my lesson from the last fifty times I did the same exact thing?
After thinking about it for a while though, I realized that it is physically impossible to wait until a Mama Celeste pizza cools before trying to eat it. I don’t know if it’s the tangy sauce, the gooey cheese, or the delectable crust – maybe even a combination of all three – but your product is simply too damn good for any human to resist eating.
So if you could...just make it a TINY bit less scrumptious. I can’t handle the pain anymore.
Yours,
Kev Kage
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