I just had chametz and it felt so good.

For those unacquainted with the Jewish tradition, let me provide a brief lesson in dietary restriction. Passover, which begins next week, involves a refrain from all things baked for longer than eighteen minutes and made of barley, rye, oat, wheat, and spelt.

My friends call me Carrot Top.

In place of delectable cheese danishes, we eat matzah, a seemingly edible form of cardboard– the prominent structural feature of my future New York abode. As a result the days leading up to Passover are replete with leftover chametz, products containing one of the aforementioned grains. While normally I would consume vast quantities of cashews, I now turn to the realm of carbohydrates for psychological comfort.

And when my grandmother– concerned with the state of my not-so-marriageable¬†waistline– questions my eating habits, I just play the chametz card. If I don’t eat, then I’ll have to dispose of entire boxes of Girl Scout cookies. And Moses knows those are momentary delights I will never get back.

Now given that my thesis is two weeks from submission, I certainly am in a position to consume my body weight in carbohydrate-ridden treats. However, as a product of the Jewish school system, I believe that while simultaneously attempting to generate HIV/AIDS policy options for South Africa, I should be researching matters related to Passover so I have material to share at my seder table.

And in the midst of seder research today, I discovered a wonderful little diddy that I plan to reenact for my family members next Tuesday night. Yes, this is a remake of Lonely Island’s “I Just Had Sex,” only Jew-ified and with unleavened bread:

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