Some of this is chatter; some of it is Mike Breen’s idiosyncratic delivery (courtesy of his alma mater, obviously). The Golden State Warriors enter Game 6 of the NBA Finals with a chance to win their fourth title in eight years largely because of the former number one overall pick, a tweener-ish guy left to falter but by the grace of God, Kevin Durant, and Bob Myers.
Earlier this week, Pizza Hut trotted out a pie with hot dog bites baked into the crust. “Pizza Hut has created the perfect combination for American tastebuds,” they exclaimed in a press release. This Frankenfood is a ploy to drum up new business as Americans move from the convenience of fast food to more healthy options. Pizza Hut is not the only culprit of these gonzo kitchen experiments; Hardee’s and Dunkin Donuts have rolled out their own crackpot foods that seem like a self-aware joke about a certain American ideal: this foodstuff is so crass that it’s American as fuck.
If you pair these abominations with the otherworldly portions of food that are being sold at an unbelievable discount – KFC’s $5 Fill-Up, Taco Bell’s 5 Buck Box, etc. – you’d think that these brands have eaten their own tail in order to get customers. Most Americans who actively exclude fast food from their diets are not likely to be enticed by a pizza that’s the spiritual cousin of the big rig in Mad Max: Fury Road. It’s surely not frequent patrons that need a marketing campaign to get through the door. Who, then, are these unique customers whose dollars are being chased?
Welcome to TV Party, a weekly segment where we preview ten of the week’s most exciting match-ups in college football so you know when to grab some beer and ignore the outside world.
This week: all of the prior weeks seem like slimy, flimsy hors d’oeuvres compared to the Guy Fieri flavor-blasted, honkin’ serving of football in week 6 which is piled high on a bed of potato munchlings and served for the first time ever LIVE IN OXFORD, MISSISSIPPI. Put your turkey leg eatin’ pants on – you’re gonna be gettin’ the meat sweats after you get yourself a hearty helpin’ of footbaw.