I keep seeing this and forgetting that I sent it to myself.
Charlie should not make pizza. By someone’s definition (Charlie’s) this is considered pizza. Who else has bad definitions of pizza?
I don’t know what one tastes like hot, but a cold domino’s pizza tastes like a bag of pizza combos pre-trans fat makeover. Which explains at last why the combos people think that tastes like pizza. According to legend, this pizza has bacon on it. i think an Egg McMuffin would have more bacon on it. I hesitate to add the clincher “and an egg mcmuffin has SAUSAGE on it” for I suspect even that may be hard to prove.
The process of explaining how I came into possession of this object incriminates some individuals who probably deserve better than to be incriminated over pizza.
Sometimes when you end up a with watery base, Eggo wafflish crust, almost pink tomato sauce, and a cheese layer that seems to be a single unit, you can make the excuse no this isn’t misguided chefmanship, it’s Greek style pizza. I no wonder why they’re always smashing plates. It would be fine if they used good ingredients, but they never will. I formed that hypothesis a few years before the Greek economy became an international liability and I won’t go so far as to blame a complex issue far older than our limited American awareness of it that is bringing suffering to millions of people whose governments increasingly punish their own citizens to maintain their own pointless wealth on bad pizza. Rather, it’s probably a combination of that and all the broken plates. But Domino’s doesn’t even have cultural differences to blame its inadequacy on; rather, it is perfectly matched with the culture that it offers service to, which is why it stays in business.
The only remotely ethnic restaurant I ever saw dominoes in was a pan-Asian establishment and it knew better than to serve pizza. The chefs there stick to what they know and preserve their dignity.
Yerp, pizza combos, pizza rolls, pizza pockets, pizza goldfish, pizza PRINGLES. None of these taste at all like pizza, but I bought them all, many times, even once I knew it. The goldfish just tasted like regular goldfish with random flavored salt on them, but the pringles were notably bad and chemical aftertaste-y. Yet I bought them again.
We just like things to have “pizza” in their names and we don’t hold them to any standard unless they ARE pizzas, and sometimes not even then. Even after swearing off Red Baron, Totino and Elio pizzas* I continued eating the lousy pringles. Pizza flavored non-pizzas seem to get a free pass. (*I never ate a Tony’s
To your amazement, no doubt. If I wasn’t enticed by smooth plastic fisher price playhouse pizza surely the creepy Drew Friedman airbrush kid would seal the meal)
It’s become a routine. We think we like pizza because we remember liking pizza, but clearly we’re bored with it. What if we could have pizza as potato chips?
Or what if we could eat it out of a starchy carbohydrate sock instead of slices? Slices are so HARD.
Shooting the ad with a green screen box to accommodate different regional sub brands without refilming the same great great scenes with the same great, great song where there’s no conspicuous lyrical void allowing for the insertion of “Ellio’s” as the situation demands has the additional benefit of making the product seem real and valid compared to the very fake looking packaging.
This at least solves my problem of not being able to take a bath because it interfered with my ability to eat pizza-derived products at all times.
More recently, I attempted a semi-local non-chain that was pledged to be “cheaper” than what I prefer. I had to conclude that it tasted like that kind of pizza I get when somebody who doesn’t really know me says “hey come over we’re getting pizza.” I’d wonder where the hamburglar did you FIND this? I’ve lived here for ten years and never had a pizza this bad. Why do you think this is GOOD? Pizza parties are the worst. I get two slices at most and then have to wait around not eating pizza or talking to people because I resent them for not buying enough bad pizza. How’s that fun? I can’t stand it. The pizza here was actually tolerable but it reminded me of that.
This does remind me, or it did before so many digressions and inserts that I no longer recall what actually reminded me: did you hear that the mcribs are “back?” I did, despite neither caring nor being aware that it had gone anywhere except directly into a toilet. Mcrib is the dumbest scam. “It” never goes away, but it’s always coming back, and then I’m always hearing that it’s coming back. It’s never national news that Chicken McNuggets are still here, even if we as living beings really ought to be outraged every day that they are. The official story is that mcribs were devised during a mcnugget shortage, in fat, but considering how simple a matter it is to fake a shortage of natural earth resources to push up their prices, imagine how much more easy it must be to fake a scarcity of something that’s not supposed to exist at all and very easily might not.
Also it’s the McRib, rather than the McRibs, or some McRib sandwiches. There’s just one riboid that returns year after year, because like other menu items it never decomposes and nobody wants to eat it. There’s nothing special in McRibs that should cause them to be scarce. We already went over this. Pay attention. It’s the same stuff that’s in the hamburgers pressed in a different mold and painted a different color and sprayed with a different flavor. They could make it out of broccoli and have it taste exactly the same and be eep times healthier but they don’t because people have some kind of weird pride about eating meat, even when it’s several stages removed and reformulated several times. One of the claims made to discredit Mr. Obama when he sought presidential space was that he ate arugula. Hey, he eats VEGETABLES. He CAN’T be American. Do you remember the big “story” that taco bell’s meat didn’t meat ah the legal meat requirement? Nobody cared to observe that the substitution was actually vegetable matter which we’d be better off replacing the entire contents with. They only wanted to say “ha ha, unnatural! Oh ho ho, fast food! Tee hee, verbs! OMG coffee”
Yet Kentucky Why Chicken famously mistreats and misprepares real animals and the end product is not any more holy. The only identifiable difference is that a piece of chicken costs twice as much as a taco, and they don’t even take the bones out for you.
I saw that written bit partway through my own writing. Although it does suggest the McRibs only exist at all because at one point in time McNuggets indeed were not present, which made me alter my own base remark, the coward, that has never been the case since. The article also does not suggest that the sole reason for the product’s absences is McDonalds’ self-assurance that it can get massive free publicity merely making the slightest deviation from routine, and that “McRib” is perfect for that by having a stupidly memorable name, so it can become something like a running gag. ANY product could be randomly removed, or not removed at all but suddenly said to have been unremoved, but it’s funnier and more consistent/efficient if the same one gets the moot every time. So the breach of routine itself has become routine!
Ha ha! I’ve figured it out! But what will happen to me now?
Ah, truly? I must say I hadn’t expected this!
Oh fah uhl I figured you wouldn’t tell me!
Rod Blagojevich knows where’s the party at. No doubt he will be funding it with his Jeopardy winnings. I expect only highest quality and plentiful part-like fare.
Awwwwwwwwwwwnawwwwwwwwwwwwww… I don’t even remember why he’s going to jail next month so it’s probably this.
I invented fallopian tubes.
This is why capes are essential in everyday life.
Now you know the full story.
I “upgraded” word-press, the system which this website would function through if it could be said to do so. In fact I did this back in January and said as much at the time, but not in the proper entry body, but rather above that of another site entry, because I only intended it to be a brief notice, but then I wouldn’t stop talking and it occupied too much space. Since the primary intended matter of that bimshwipe took place in the past I decided that combined with the message from the present the piece then overall required time travel in excess of what was reasonable to make sense of. I corrected the problem immediately but I had to go forward a month to pay back the deficit.
What had prompted the word-pressure was when some alien being called “malware blacklist” called my email to congratulate my website for getting on the list, and warned me that my outdated copy of WordPress was a “high” security risk.
I was slow to notice because it is routine procedure for parties to occur without my knowledge, and if I find out there’s been a second it’s generally in my emotional best interest to remove myself from the flow of information entirely. I would elaborate further but then this would be pushed back to April, so I did the upgrade. I wasn’t allowed off the list but I did get to break several administrative functions, which is always exciting and cathartic.
Additionally, the tacky presenting imps now float above their bases. I don’t suppose they look any less dignified than before but they do seem less deliberately placed so they will have to go. Away. They had to go anyway, I suspect. Considering that the next-to-last specific comment regarding their presence that I recall receiving came from someone who has not spoken to me in nearly a year they’ve probably been up there for longer than necessary.
An add-on which is designed to remove garbage comments which would not work without me upgrading now works at last. However, the upgrade also broke the thing which allows me to open entries to comments which I had closed, because all the comments coming in were garbage, which amounts to the same thing, except if the add-on doesn’t actually work than I can’t close anything new either.
Although since that happened and I wrote about it in January it seems to have been repaired, you don’t know that, and in thatever situation the imps still float.
There were always measures in place to control the word waste generated by pressing them, but the old measures became self-conscious about me calling them out on some of their idiosyncrasies. Like that whole “not working at all” thing. Like that time some dubious unfiltered ad robot comment got this site permanently placed on a malware blacklist. Apparently undoing a press only leaves those in charge depressed.
To remind folks that it was trying very hard, the system would occasionally distract humans from commenting using the following alert.
Which worked out very well because occasionally is more than sufficient to cover the frequency with which I am worth talking to. I saw it myself when attempting to test the upgraded situation, and I said to me This explains a lot, and yet I know less than before. Prior to now I’d only encountered stories of this helpful notice’s existence. You may assume any error page that isn’t a depressing shade of green or that lacks any flippant text has eluded my ability to discover, much less rectify the cause of, for what nothing that’s worth.
Looking through my files now I definitely wrote an alternate version of that message in the pertinent file but this ever so helpful upgrade must have overwritten it and been so proud of the deed that it also decided to make the page appear more often.
I also evidently changed another message that I never even encountered. I doubt I’d be here to tell this story if I had.
And don’t you think I’d leave if I could?
I did it! There is no longer a mouse in my apartment. Now it is called a mice.
You gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, and you too can make a stylish children linking arms paper-craft.
Never make a sandwich with wet bread.
Hoopay, I can eat an 18 inch circular pizza in one session again. This means I’m either due for a lot of new ideas and initiative or to be sick in the morning and annoyed that there isn’t any pizza left.
Happy 200th birthday, wandering, peaceless poltergeist of perpetual commercial focus. Consider yourself one of us. In honor of this occasion I propose a downdated remake of Wild Hogs set in the era. Tim Allen will play Charles Dickens and John Travolta will be an actual hog.
Electronic Banking Monopoly. Hey let us take a really boring game and remove the most fun element from it: brightly colored, utterly unrealistic paper money in high denonominations. Ordinarily I’d want only 500 dollar bills, stacks of them, but in Monopoly the fifty has a more interesting color and so I don’t mind keeping those around. Otherwise I don’t enjoy Monopoly a great deal; it goes on for far too long and I’ve never seen a game end but out of apathy. Often time itself is the one who gives up. I hate most board/card games because they tend to be more chance than skill, if they aren’t chance exclusively, and if I’m playing one that means other people also are and they’re probably enjoying it and that means they’ll keep right on playing it. I can’t stand seeing people enjoy stuff that I hate. I like Scattergories because nobody else does and so I never play it and so I don’t discover anything that makes me realize I hate it.
The valet siblings could at least do the cards or the calculator up in a similarly impractical fashion to the money. What’s the calculator even for? When I use my debit card I expect someone else to figure out what I owe so I can look at my bank statement three months later and wonder when Comcast increased my monthly internet charge by twenty dollars or what I bought from “S-CONN-ST-U-BKS NEW HAVEN” that cost $109. There is uninvestigated potential to distract from the classy deficit with fraud and identity theiving shenanigans.
Much, if not all, of Monopoly’s enduring charm lies in its aesthetic, tactile appeals and how antiquated it is. Sure I’ll represent myself with a tiny metal thimble. I don’t know what a thimble is for; I believed it was a trash can for long enough, even though that concept of a trash can was also antiquated and based on outdated cartoons I’d seen and managed to not decry the lack of in-touch pandering within. Monopoly has absolutely no contemporary social relevance. Yet it has survived despite that. Its mascot is a sphere-headed 19th century mustachioed man wearing a top hat and a bowtie.
That alone proves he uh gosh I don’t even remember.
He would have no use for a credit card. Money to him is as much a financial asset as piece of physical property to act as a visual aid in his mocking of the down-trodden. His greatest joy in life is lighting hundred dollar bills with his cigar while posing in front of orphanages getting bulldozed to make way for enormous green plastic monoliths. He didn’t accumulate that much money to let someone else put it into THEIR enormous hilltop vault with a gold dollar sign on it that his only assurance at the existence of requires him to log into a website whose most intimidating security measure is refusing to cache his username.
I assume the robot edition will not be having any house rules regarding what the “free parking” space does. I also assume that having a computer screen 64% wider than when I started with the website has in the past 2.5 years made me feel like the same amount of text is less and that’s why I added another sentence here.
As every gimmick version of monopoly has a simpsons edition it is only fair that every simpsons gimmick has its own edition of monopoly.
Solly Humphrey the Humping Dog, KISSOPOLY still wins the absolutely shouldn’t exist contest. FRIENDS TRIVIA is disqualified on the grounds that I can’t tell what it is by my shoddy picture-taking. But there on the left, JOHN DEERE MONOPOLY! If there’s a perfect metaphor for the contemporary successful American, it’s John Deere Monopoly. Going completely out of your way to prove you love real man’s work and values and bootstraps while you invest in property, policies, and ways of life that have in mind absolutely none of the best interests of the people who actually do that work.
original least-altered Monopolite is still sold and these are not intended to replace it, and any business has an obligation to make useless derivations of their popular properties forever until those stop selling, but I wish they didn’t.
Monopoly the board game the video game has itself seen a few hundred incarnations since it started. What could possibly be in Monopoly3 that requires so much hard drive space? Not “new stuff,” clearly. Since the video game version never had rainbow money to begin with, Monopoly log3 can’t even remove that and call it a feature. And I saved that image in 2004 so they’re probably up to Monpoly log12 by now, which is 3 gigabytes in size, justified by the inclusion of technology which requires you to be connected to the internet at all times to reprove you didn’t steal Monopoly, the game of business ethics violations every day and also requires that you install Quicktime for some reason. That is a separate download. A few years ago my family rented a house (I acknowledge the seeming irony of including this in an essayoid with so many jipes at oafs with too much money; trust me that we absolutely couldn’t afford to do that) and the owners had a Playstation but the only games were generic racing and Barbie titles, plus Monopoly the game, because they bring their kids up RIGHT. This wasn’t even the same house that had the full run of Down East Magazine stored in the basement.
Lamentably I no longer have the pictures which document this because I was storing them at that point on a computer whom my brother challenged for unrelated reasons to a series of physical contests in which it was not victorious, so you’ll just have to imagine the excitement. I’m left to assume the owners were the most boring people in the world or they merely hid any game that they thought someone might want to steal.
Surprisingly the maccident wasn’t because the full size edition of this was sequestered within it, either.
You fool! That’s what they would want you to think if they were clever enough to think about things!
I really ought to learn to stop asking rhetorical questions around these parts.