Why don't people eat pizza crusts? Did you ever stop to think how many pizza crusts end up in the trash every year? Are people such delicate flowers that their sharp and angry carnivore teeth can't grind and tear the titanium like flesh of a pizza crust? Have we become a society of pumped- up, super-tough, chain-smoking, intimidating-attitude, "no fear"-"fear this", chainmail metalhead, pierced flesh, tattooed-bodies, mecha-monsters.......... who only like the "tender" parts of the pizza?

Men seem to love telling other men how much they love to eat steak. I mean, on the toughness scale, lets face it, MEAT, TOUGH meat, GAMY meat, with fat all marbled through it, seems much cooler to be able to eat than say...... quiche. I happen to like quiche, even though I probably can't spell it. Do most men want to know how light and delicate a piece of quiche is? No. But mention steak to a roomful of men who are trying to "out-man" each other, and you'll see eyes light up and fists raised higher than at a Ted Nugent concert. I mean, it came from an ANIMAL, an animal that they might have even possibly beat with their bare hands (oh, and a high powered rifle and scope too) making them master of the food chain, the one that came out on top. With camouflage leaves on their heads and greasepaint that would make the cast of "Braveheart" run away in horror, to blend them in with their natural surroundings, looking like something clipped from a really bad Marine Corps TV advertisement (in other words, a Marine Corps TV advertisement), they stalked the mighty and dangerous animal, whose thoughts ranged from fleeing in terror to fleeing in terror, dragged the life out of it's body, mutilated the corpse, and took it home to DEVOUR it. This meat, this sweet prize that is the ultimate reward for the orange-clad warriors. And they chewed and chewed, and OH how they chewed, and how they did plunge their bear-like fangs into this sinewy victory and they did throw their heads back, their blood streaked faces to the sky, and yowl to the God's of...........

You get the idea.

Toughness and intimidation seem to rule the game. No, it's not our fault, you know. It's mother nature, that wacky woman who runs the show and all the actors and props in it. She made us this way for a reason. The male lion must ruffle his mane and scare off any other male lions who might want to, God help them, do lion-ey things with some other lions near the male lions place that he struts and looks to kill meat and all that. The male peacock, with his bright and colorful plumage, he pumps himself up with the animal world equivalent of the "no fear" bumper sticker, and all the other male peacocks in the area know to take heed, because.... I mean... damn, that guy over there has his feathers all up!!!!

It's survival of the species and all that, and there is a reason it's all in place. Without it, there would be chaos in all worlds, and not just the animal worlds. The hunter-orange is the peacock plumage of the human society. You don't mess around with someone sitting in a diner dressed in orange, brand new boots on his feet that have never even SEEN the dirt of the woods, let alone touched it. They thirst for blood, and soon, very soon, they will leave their mark on the world of nature. They will rule, they will conquer, they will make the ground shake from the stomping of their mighty feet, and the trees will topple before them and the animals will flee in terror because MAN has entered the woods. Be careful......... his feathers are up!! Yes, MAN will throw his head back and let out a bezerker scream, and charge mother nature head on, leaving a very trench of terror in his wake.

That is.... as soon as he finishes his plate of soft fluffy eggs.

Anyway, the crust skippers.................

So they leave them behind, neglected and forgotten, sometimes thrown BACK INTO the pizza box. Are they symbolic in nature? Do they represent the BONES of the pizza that they stalked and hunted through the city streets, captured after braving the counters and checkouts, dragged home and slaughtered? Would people eat pizza crusts if they were shaped like animals? Little bunny-crusts and deer-crusts? Is that the answer to this problem that plagues my sleep?

So why does pizza hut sell bread sticks? Ever had a pizza hut breadstick? Oh man, let me tell you what, they're good. They are a stick of pizza crust, and oh baby they are good eating. I think the idea is to eat them BEFORE the pizza comes. Enjoy them, wish you had more of them, then tear into the pizza proper when it comes, oohing and ahhing over the meats and cheeses and bubbling goodness, and then, when you are finished with it, it is your god given right to wing those nasty strips of bread that serve as handles on the slices of pizza back into the boxes from which they came. Back... BACK foul strip of baked dough, for you will not touch *MY* tender teeth!

And the world trembles once more.

Nibble carefully down one side of a pizza hut bread stick, and you've got yourself a pizza crust. Go figure.

Anyway, all this talk of food has made me somewhat hungry. Think I'll go make myself a sandwich. I sure wish there was a way I could buy bread with the crusts already cut off. It's such a bother to get the knife out and everything.

Dr. Torgo

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