Brace yourself for a cheesy epic.
Norberto Briceño/ MTA
As I'm wrapping up my 25th year of life on this earth, I can't help but feel like time is slipping away. We have this little window of existence, and it's important to enjoy it to the fullest.
I fucking love pizza. Because, let's be real: Pizza is awesome. Pizza is life. Pizza is, quite frankly, the shit. So, as I'm about to turn 26, I wanna celebrate life by eating a shit ton of pizza because WHY THE FUCK NOT?
For this, I will be going to the pizza capital of the world, New York City (sorry Chicago), and I'm going to eat 15 glorious slices from pizza spots all over the city. The selection for these pizza parlors has been democratically decided by a committee of me, only me, and no one else but me. But I have imposed some rules that I must follow (because after all, I am a responsible 25-year-old adult):
1. Pizza parlors MUST serve slices. So New York favorites like Grimaldi's, Lombardi's, or Patsy's are out of the running.
2. The pizza parlors must come from all five New York City boroughs (Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx, and Staten Island).
3. I can only get around using NYC public transportation.
4. I will order whatever I want.
5. Go big or go home (I have to finish every slice. Leaving out the crust is OK, though).
6. Do not, under any circumstances, die.