A pizza a day keeps the doctor away

If you eat one or more of these every day then the doctor will keep away. It's called the law of diminishing returns.

A pizza a day keeps the doctor away. Yes, pizza is the healthiest food known to man on the face of this earth. Eating it daily keeps the doctor away. At first God threw pizza down on people as manna from the heavens, to make them healthy and keep them lording it over everything. Then later he let people talk to each other and think up how to make pizza, so now they have their hands on deep dish and thin crust.

You know at least one thing already, from your hard-won life experience: If you put cheese on anything round and flat you can call it pizza. Even a paper cutout that is round and flat, if it is covered with cheese, then it is pizza.

Why if you eat pizza the doctor will stay away? It's the garlic.

The end.

From what the doctor thinks

I am the doctor who keeps away when you eat pizza that has garlic. I have taken the hypocrites oath to help you but I won't. Everyone says to me "Doctor, come here, help that person they are sick" and I run over there and do that with pleasure. Except for the people who eat garlic. If they think I will help them then they have other things coming. All they have to do is sit down and read this song I wrote, which was recently published in The New England Journal of Medicine:

I am a doctor to the sick, the dying, and the infirm. But, cringing beneath my strange hat, I point my finger at the eaters of garlic and tell them to get out as fast as they come in.

Don't come to me pushing no garlic,

I don't want to see you if you've been chewing on garlic,

You may be sick or dying or something,

But go somewhere else if it's garlic you've taken.

In medical school I was number one,

The son of a son of a prominent son,

I have diplomas and honors and some very high pay,

But when it comes to breathing garlic I say "No way!"

They call me out, it's the middle of the night,

Some tornado has hit or it's a large gang fight.

But when I get there and they've been living on garlic,

I turn right around, let them die where they lay.

Now let this be a warning to all who care to know,

If you eat pizza with garlic then I just won't go.

If lightning hits you when you're walking down the street

Don't call me unless your pizza was just cheese, sauce, and meat.

The end.

If you were a pizza here's what you would see out your eyes

I took this candid memory just as he was about to give me a rough going over.

I'm just some bread and sauce and cheese cooked in an oven. Those in the know call me "pizza". But when it comes right down to it I just think of myself as me with a few toppings. What do you think I can tell you, and why am I talking on this article? Let me give you some background.

When I was a young pizza, just five minutes hot from the oven, I was brought out of the kitchen and laid on a table. When I looked around there was this guy and a wife and also two children all looking at me, and soon I was laying down on four different plates. And soon after that stomachs were my new home.

But there's something I didn't tell the people at the table. I was holding garlic the whole time. That's right. Cooked right into my cheese were pieces of garlic (along with mushrooms, onions, and cow. And some pineapple on half). Do you think it would have made a difference? They would have eaten me anyway, that's what I'm thinking.

The end.

Tell it like it is, garlic

Don't eat the little worms, but the part inside me. Cook me first. Not my stem. Maybe my stem, go wild.

Oh, look at me, I'm garlic. White and juicy too. Put some oil on me and chew me up just like that. Give me a garlic press for my ride, I'll jump right in. Then put me on your pizza and I will meet the doctor with lance and shield. The doctor shall not pass. I shall keep the doctor away. This is my one and only solemn vow to you. If you trust my word, then put me on pizza, and all medical assistance will be turned away. So says I, garlic.

The end.

I am the air itself and I wish to be heard.

When I carry the smell of garlic to the noses of medical professionals in the vicinity, my job is on the line. If I don't keep them away then nobody will. If you are doing this right, and are eating a pizza a day with garlic on it, there should be no problem. I will keep the doctor away. What I do is stand between you and the doctor, and when the doctor opens his or maybe her mouth to breath, I jump right in. With the garlic. Then they scatter.

Another way of putting it. When I see a doctor getting close I run right at them. The doctor is like a pretty blonde girl, all "La la la", while I, air, am like a fast blonde black man determined to knock the doctor down. In my mind's eye I can see it all now as if it were yesterday. Or 6:30 p.m. on Sunday.

The end.

A pizza a day keeps the doctor away

What God does Godzilla worship? Who do you think? The same God who created garlic, that's who. On your knees, Mr. Zilla.

So it's like baby feet versus Godzilla. No matter how many doctors are milling about and want to poke things into you, some on purpose, others because they bought a white coat and you didn't (what's up with that?), if you compare footprints they are all baby feet and garlic is Godzilla. Even walking down the street you will turn doctors another way. They will meet garlic – like Waterloo met Napoleon and handed him his three-cornered hat – and garlic will say "Be on your way, mister".

Believe what you know now. Eat a pizza every day and the doctor will keep away. Don't believe the older wife tale about eating an apple every day. That canard may work in some parts of town, where apples have wishes, but if you really want the doctor to give you a wide berth garlic is your man.

Related medical professional

Sure, easy if you're a doctor. Even if you don't spin the patient around and plant the old gumboot on the buttocks as soon as you get a whiff of that Supreme with double garlic and anchovies, there are lots of work arounds if the patient is holding a gun and demands treatment. Whack an oxygen mask on him or her and, if you're a proctologist, maybe one for yourself as well. What about us dentists? None of this, "Take these pills and don't call me, I'll call you" business. No way. Into the pit we go, carious teeth covered in mozzarella and filtering the nauseous fumes of a half-digested Pepperoni Special with extra bleu cheese topping. Your pretty assistant has already passed out so you have to grope for the drill yourself. Okay, pizza-muncher, we'll see who gives up first.

The end.

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