I made a pizza at 8:30am. I put egg, pepperoni, honey, and cheese on it. I did not take a picture. I wrapped it in tinfoil and went to the gym. At the gym I toasted my back and quads and threw a medicine ball around a basketball court. When I left the gym I opened the tinfoil and ate the pizza with my dead friend Andre from Colombia. If you don’t remember, I mentioned somewhere on the internet that Andrew died. I guess he is still dead. A few minutes passed. We saw Steve. Two hours passed. I asked Andre if he wanted a hardboiled egg. He said he did. I gave him a hardboiled egg. He cracked it on a brick.