Honey's vision of the Good Life is really weird

During the 9th hour of this friendless, disgusting loser's marathon binge-watching of Game of Thrones, her stomach suddenly reminded her that she had not budged from the couch except to use the toilet (because couch-toilets won't be widely available until sometime next year) and that she really should consume some calories before the rest of her body goes the way of her brain somewhere around Hour 4.

The kitchen is in the next room, but that's All The Way Over There and besides she hasn't been outside to see if Peapod made her grocery delivery and the porch is Even Farther Away, so she reaches for the laptop and starts looking for a good deal on a pizza.  Turns out that she's not just lacking in a life or friends or any interest in getting her pathetic ass off that couch- she's also kind of short on money, because instead of just going to LocalPizza.com she has to hunt around for a coupon first. 

Meanwhile, she's getting REALLY hungry.  I mean, just listen to her stomach.  I mean that.  Listen to it.  I had to, so you do too.

In the end, this twat somehow managed to get to the front door when the pizza showed up- I'm sure she was totally put out that the delivery guy didn't just bring it into the living room and shove the first piece into her mouth, but maybe she made an arrangement with him so he will next time.  And the commercial ends with us getting to see her pig face smeared with tomato sauce as the population of Idiocracy has a big belly laugh over all of this because OMIGOD That Is So Me Sometimes.

After she's consumed a few slices, it's back to bleaching her brain for another hour or so, or until the carb and sugar infusion puts her into a semi-comatose state, right there on the couch.  Tomorrow she wakes up in dirty, stained clothes, stuck to the cushions by her own perspiration, next to a box of cold, stale, half-eaten pizza swimming in it's own bacteria.  Yep, she's living the dream, all right.  Thanks, Honey!