Pizza made me who I am. In the summer of 1998, I dropped out of college and started a pizza restaurant called Growlies in my hometown in rural Canada. My seed money: a credit card with a $20,000 limit.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I didn't have money to eat when I was 21. When I was short on cash, I would sometimes scam food from fast food places. I'd go into fast food chains and pretend I was from a movie studio, tell them they didn't send us the right order and demand they fix it. I've tried to make that right whenever I could.
I had a meal in Pizza Hut and the waitress told me I didn't need to pay. So I decided to be a bit cheeky and ask for more pizza and garlic bread.
I was part of a group called Casanova Fly, doing bouncer work, attending college and working in a pizza shop when I first met producer Sylvia Robinson who came into the pizza shop where I was flipping the dough. I was rapping in the park in Englewood, and she heard about what I was doing.
Every cook I knows loves to make pizza.
Wealth is not a pizza, where if I have too many slices you have to eat the Domino's box.
I ate a whole 20-inch pizza by myself one time.
I don't eat fast food, but I can't live without pizza.
My mother was making $135 a week, but she had resilience and imagination. She might take frozen vegetables, cook them with garlic, onion and Spam, and it would taste like a four-star dinner.
When I was 19, I made my first good week's pay as a club musician. It was enough money for me to quit my job at the factory and still pay the rent and buy some food. I freaked.
No one picked on me for my lunch money. Probably because it was the 1980s and no one had lunch money.