Rainy Day, Indoors.
Don't provoke me, you insolent bastard. You're a walking, talking billboard, a victim of a society gone awry, one that you take for granted and would never even THINK to criticize. Under the guise of Pizza Hut, the government has changed you, cultivated you into believing that the so called "Insider Pizza" is fit to rule the country of your stomach. And hook, line and sinker, you bought it like the blind, media brainwashed, proletariat-material-consumer that you are. Didn't you, bitch? Didn't you? You think that because it's your only option, that it must be the best, most delicious option. But really it's "clotted, clumpy, greasy, synthetic."
It might sound cheesey, Andrew, but I dream of something better.
I forsee a world where politicians aren't afraid to form biparmesan alliances to tackle the issues that are tearing this country apart. A world in which our healthy diets aren't determined by corporations, the diagnoses of our chefs undermined by UNOs like International OmniFoods, the parent company of PizzaBellKFCTacoHut. It's time that our children ate in larger dining rooms, with a greater customer-to-server ratios. And if the pies aren't satisfactory, we need 100% accountability.
Look, it's a difference of opinion. See, I trust you with your toppings. Those toppings don't belong to the franchise, they belong to you. And you should be able to apply those toppings as you see fit, even if that means making, like, a happy face using pepperoni and onions. If you want big corporate chains tossing your hard-earned dough into ovens that give a 3% return, that's fine. Me, I'll stick with Al's or Mamma Mia's, because I think it's important to support local business.
12:20 PM |