Look, I'm not trying to be (excessively) mean here, but this woman is the last person in the world who should be looking for more excuses to become more and more part of that chair whose springs she's torturing. How about you sell that chair, cancel your Hulu (and Netflix, and Amazon Prime, and heck- while we're at it, Cable) and use that money to buy yourself a Peloton Bike or maybe a gym membership? You know, before you succumb to diabetes, heart disease, or any number of ailments that are all but inevitable if you insist on being a couch potato zombie looking for excuses to avoid moving?
Never mind the fact that this commercial features the abuse of a lowly employee at the hands of her demanding, slave-driving boss. I just gotta love how it ends with the lowly employee acting as if she's triumphed over her boss by successfully Jumping when he called to order her to Jump. You go, girl!
Workers of the World Unite- if your boss is going to crack the whip and make you work through the wee hours instead of, oh, you know, respecting the fact that you are an employee and not an indentured servant and you work for a set wage that covers a set amount of time, you should put your foot down and (politely) demand that he stock plenty of Death Wish Coffee so you can stimulate your heart and shorten your life span before you proceed to make him slightly wealthier at the expense of your health. It's the one Stimulus Package he's willing to provide without bitching about "Socialism" and the death of Free Enterprise, after all.*
But yeah, enjoy that superior smile. Short of a decent Union, it's pretty much your only reward for your night of drug-enabled hard work. Do yourself a favor and don't reflect on the fact that your boss got a good night's sleep, and expects you to put in another hard day's work on another Very Important Project today. Make sure you've got plenty of Death Wish Coffee for the office Keurig machine.
*Oh, who are we kidding? We all know that next to those coffee pods is a jar for the one-dollar-per-cup "contribution" expected of the people who use them. The boss has his own Keurig machine - which you are not to touch, ever- back in his office.
There's so much off-putting (maybe just plain "gross" is the better way to put it?) here, I hardly know where to begin. Not a good start, Netflix.
I mean, we are being "treated" to a talking remote control that is angry that this (appropriately yet predictably diverse) couple keeps "pushing it's buttons." You've got one job, Mr. Remote Control. If you're bitter that you are constantly having to do your One Job, maybe suicide is a reasonable option. Can you reach your own battery door to slide it out and remove those batteries? I think that would do it.
I guess this is supposed to be cute, but seriously, it isn't at all.
But then it just gets worse. The remote has kept close tabs on what this couple is watching, and is willing to turn on one of them to generate conflict. All these people have is their shared television viewing, so the female is quickly triggered by the discovery that her male significant other is watching television (cheating?) behind her back. Maybe she thought he was at the gym or doing something about that spare tire he's carrying, like he said he was, instead of being immobile as usual in front of the Idiot Box With 60 Million Hours of Viewing Possibilities. Seriously, this guy is a chonker and he does NOT need another excuse to spend any more time zombied-out on the couch. But no, she's just annoyed that he "experienced" god knows how many more hours of some witless Netflix Original Series Garbage without her, like he's having an affair or something. (Hell, when your relationship revolves around "sharing" TV shows, what's the difference between watching something on your own and having an affair anyway?)
The "happy ending" involves Netflix basically taking their viewing history and just starting them off on another marathon of time-wasting, intimacy-avoiding BS courtesy of everyone's favorite contribution to the obesity and social isolation pandemics. And all because we think that a streaming "service" that uses complicated algorithms to place us in an endless loop of predictable, non-threatening, non-challenging generic "entertainment" is the triumph of Western Civilization. Well, at least these people are unlikely to breed, having used up their fertile years on 16 seasons of whatever Carbon Copy Magic Sword Adventure Nonsense Netflix decided they should be watching instead.
I have NO IDEA who Lil Nas X is, what he does for a living, or what the deal is with his name. Nor do I care, so please, don't feel like you need to tell me. I don't even want to know if I'm using the correct pronouns. I'll never type that name again, so I won't have to worry about it, ok?
I also have no idea how sad someone's life would have to get if they find themselves dreaming about whatever war crime Taco Bell is offering this week on their breakfast menu. I didn't even know Taco Bell HAD a breakfast menu. Of course, I don't really know anything about Taco Bell's NON-BREAKFAST menu beyond what I see on commercials either, so.....
I'm left with just one question. How long does this woman think she's going to be able to live her dream of starting her days with Taco Bell breakfast whatever the hell this is sandwiches before she starts to experience serious health issues?
First of all, where's a sniper when you need one? I see anyone standing on a roof shouting at the neighborhood that America's favorite crappy cardboard-flavored-dough and sugar delivery system is offering free non-food with every order of non-food made through their App, and I give any Second Amendment Loving American permission to take aim and fire away.
Second, the last thing most of the people in this ad need is easy access to the garbage offered by Dominos. They already look exhausted, listless, bored-- yeah, just the perfect customers for bland white dough, gummy cheese and- "best" of all- heavy lumps of sugar-topped "chocolate" whatever-the-hell-those-atrocities-are. Good idea, Upper Middle Class Suburbanites- don't shop and cook. Just scroll and tap. And get this nonsense showing up at your door. Getting your body to ingest it will be very easy- because these chemical baskets are designed to be easily digested. Getting your body to extract anything of value from it will be pretty damn close to impossible, because you can't get blood from a stone or nutrition from any of the disgusting calorie bombs produced by Dominos.
But wow, it's so easy to order. And check out the free stuff.
Can someone at Arby's explain why this commercial is being shouted at us? I mean, it's an ad for a pork sandwich. Why are you trying to make it such a big deal, featuring a guy with an over-the-top booming voice that has me lunging for the volume button every time it comes on? What's that all about? It sounds like I'm about to be treated to a documentary about the creation of a life-shortening carb and fat delivery system.
It's not like he's describing anything truly remarkable here. I don't care if it "looks" like a rack of ribs. I'm sure it tastes....ok. That is, not like a rack of ribs, but what I'd expect a pork sandwich to taste like if I ever got one at Arby's. And whatever that is, it sure as hell isn't worth roaring over.
