179 Crabapples for Domino's Vomitous Brownie Mascot
I have a pretty high tolerance for gross things.
I've painted my arms with rubber cement just to pull off the gooey-halfdry sheets of elementary-school-ectoplasm.
I've done push-ups in dogcrap (mostly by accident).
I eat canned corn with ketchup.
But mother-of-all, I CANNOT get behind the new Domino's Fudgems commercial.
Being an insider in the industry, I managed to get my hands on the transcript, which I will kindly share:
1. Baby-faced, toolbaggish delivery guy comes to the door all smiley and lame.
2. Greets mom and little girl in a way that proves that has never, and will never, get laid.
3. Camera pans to Furry-Block-of-Shit.
4. Delivery Tool says something unexciting about dipping sauce and hands sticky brownie chunk to mom.
5. Mom says something dumb and faux-cheerful, and then quickly proceeds to pat the Furry-Block-of-Shit, only to get shit on her hand.
She titters like an impressionable lamb.
6. Mom pawns off gross brownie to daughter, who eats it and then hugs Furry-Block-of-Shit and tells him that she loves him, only to get covered in shit.
[EYE ON THE BALL, little lady! Did you NOT see what JUST happened to your mom's gross hand?? Also, you have shown me that you clearly have no idea what love is. I mean, I don't know much, but I do know that love is NOT tufted excrement.]
7. Mom and daughter laugh like Stepford Wives. The pair waves to the Delivery Toolbag with markedly limp wrists. Mom yells "OHHHH FUDGEMS! as supreme final justification of her empty mind and complete lack of acting ability.
--On a Fudgie sidenote, check out this story about a fudgems heist, involving (shock of all shocks) teenagers, weed, and brownie batter.
--On a BLOG-meets-IRL sidenote, I was lucky enough to have drinks with Jenny last night, and she very demurely and politely asked for a few pineapples of her own.
Jenny: GRANTED! 94 are in the mail, peeled and pre-cubed.
I suggest fondue.