My time the past fortnight has been spent in sleep, drinking dinner and watching television through half-closed eyes. I don't watch much live TV normally, other than sports, but that was enough to have one of my pet peeve commercials come up on the screen. Any home-cooked pizza commercial that plays on a theme of surprise by somebody that it ISN'T delivery pizza bugs me no end. This one featured hockey greats Luc Robitaille and Marty Brodeur.
What does it say about the pizza in question that it LITERALLY DOES NOT SMELL when it bakes away in the oven? Heating meat, cheese and puff pastry SHOULD produce a smell. I personally don't eat pizza, but I damn well know when it's cooking in the next room.
But somehow, Brodeur is totally oblivious to the smells emanating from the kitchen and just assumes Luc answered the door and paid the delivery guy in literally a blink of the eye. Of course it's just an oversight by this commercial and every other repeating of the same plot. They ALL assume their customers are IDIOTS!
Well, here's one customer who occasionally serves pizza to hungry Movie Mob members (I eat french fries). With each company that insults my intelligence with this stupid plot of a commercial, I cross off another maker of home pies. The list of ones who HAVEN'T ticked me off is getting vanishingly small. Sooner or later, the Mob will have to eat cake or the pizza makers will have to get smart. Wonder which will happen first?
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