Surviving on wild salmon croquets and organic rice milk

I haven't been to the grocery store in three weeks. I haven't cooked anything other than honey nut cheerios for months. I only go out for dinner about once a week. How am i surviving? By being the biggest and most shameless mooch ever. I got fed, for free, every day this week. While thinking about this rather impressive, but increasingly commonplace, accomplishment it occured to me there may be a direct relationship between just how free my food is and just how hard it's trying to kill me. It seems that the more free my food, the more likely that it will be severely debilitating.
Monday- The magazine I intern for uses a caterering service on Mondays to feed the 100 plus employes who stay late on deadline. This food is pretty low on the free scale, as my presence or absence wouldn't make a big difference to either the food or its freeness. Today they served bright orange macaroni and cheese. Like, beyond Kraft-macaroni-and-cheese orange. Going to turn me orange faster than carrots and give me cancer faster than red dye # 5.
Tuesday- My friend Zach makes me dinner every Tuesday night. Home cooked, purchased by a human being with a regular sized income, with me in mind, this is very free food. In my honor, only meat products are served and all are designed to cause heart failure, and between meatloaf, hamburgers, and sloppy Joe, Bovine Spongiform Encephalitis (which is a much more serious matter than food coloring). Also, mashed potatoes made of potatoes that are grown in fields of pesticides that can not sustain any other form of life. Ruining the one food in the world that should be safe from everything except good old fashioned blight.
Wednesday- My mother takes me out to dinner. The height of the free meal. And we always go to Chinese food. The height of debilitation. Have you seen them clean chopsticks out behind Congee Village? By rubbing them in big vats of steaming soapy water, using the gritty sidewalk to help scrub off leftover gunk? The sidewalk next to all the bags of garbage? The sidewalk where I go rat-spotting? And they found poop in the kitchen. The other place we go serves box wine. And BSE. And it turns out that all the chickens in Southeast Asia are sick. The virus can be transmitted though saliva, blood, and droppings, though it's unclear if it can be transmitted through meat. Here's hoping they figure that one out before we all die from sesame chicken. Which I won't stop eating anyway. That shit is good.
Thursday- Nights that I work at the restaurant we eat before the people come. I eat whatever they cook for me, which is usually just whatever they have lying around. It's a restaurant, so things like salad, chicken, or even skinny cuts off their steak just aren't a big deal= not that free. Usually they serve avian flu or BSE. Throwing a slight kink into the theory (as this should be a low danger meal) I just discovered that the restaurant's amazing salad dressing is amazing because there's a raw egg in it. Hello salmonella, I've been wondering when you'd turn up.
Friday- repeat magazine. Add cheesecake, which as a cream derivative is stocked with yummy cow hormones.
Saturday-repeat restaurant and add heart disease, from grazing on other people's leftover French food to the point of nausea, and hepatitis C from grazing on other people's French food to the point of nausea.
Sunday- someone else's mother is feeding me (again, very free) one of the above, fish in general, with a side of mercury, or salmon in specific, with a helping of the farm raised salmon salmonella equivalent.