You got your Wheel in my Shenanigans!

So, what happens when you mix one recurring blog column that no one reads with another recurring blog column that no one reads? You get a cool-ass Siamese combo of the two into one write-up that no one will freaking read. Sweet!

The Wheel of Reviews lands on advertising this time, while we simultaneously call Shenanigans on Pizza Hut. Now let me start by saying I kind of like Pizza Hut, but I only eat it about once every two or three years in an effort to not die. To me, the defining characteristic of Pizza Hut is that it's pizza, but not really. It's their take on pizza. It's not like anything you'd find at the 56 places that all claim to be the one and only Original Rays in NY. It's closer to Pizzeria UNO, though UNOs is universally considered the more like eating Patrick Ewing's jock after triple overtime.

And now the latest ads in the current Pizza Hut campaign feature hidden cameras capturing people loving restaurant lasagna, only to find out it's really from Pizza Hut. Hmmm...my shenanigan-sense is tingling. Oh, and these impressed patrons are IN ROME, ITALY! Ummm, no. Not buying it. I smell bullshit (though it's possible that bullshit is one of the ingredients. I haven't made lasagna in a while.)



First off, I can't get my mind around people oohing and ahhing over Pizza Hut lasagna in the company's own corporate cafeteria, much less in Italy. And I wouldn't know how to say "this is the best mass-produced processed food-like substance ever!" in Italian.

Second, I have a hard time with the guy who says "it taste just like my mothers!" I believe they edited out the part where he later mentions that his mother has one eye, a gaping head wound and dementia bad enough to make her think she's Ernest Borgnine. Oh, and she's from Philly.

And lastly, the thing that just seems completely bogus is the rousing applause when they are told the food is really from Pizza Hut. Pizza Hut doesn't exist in Italy, so why are people so impressed? They don't even know what it means. Seriously, no one in the history of humans on this planet has ever emphatically applauded Pizza Hut. They could discover that Pizza Hut cures cancer and it would still only get applause equal to the arrival of Sanjaya Malakar at a car wash opening.

It all seems fishy to me. (Again, that could the ingredients. There's mackerel in lasagna, right?) So, I officially say to you Pizza Hut..."Shenanigans!"

NOTE: Pizza Hut has even shared a 'behind the scenes' look at making the commercial. As if they knew we'd all question it. Take a look...

Shenanigans

Okay, so whenever I feel like someone or something is just complete bullshit, I feel it's my civic duty to call "shenanigans." This will be a recurring bit here on The Missing LiNK, mostly because I hate being bullshitted.

CULPRIT: Dick Cheney
CHARGES: faking an injury, emotional manipulation for sympathy, attention-grabbing, impersonating a fat Professor X
SHENANIGAN LEVEL: 5 purely on speculation, 9 if it's ever proven

So, when I was a kid, I was playing baseball and I basically butchered a catch on a line drive that I should have caught. I ran towards the ball, but my faulty depth perception made sure I'd be well short of it. In a last gasp effort, I half-dove for the ball, stumbling like Stephen Hawking on roller skates. The ball went clear by me for a home run. Not only did I blow the play, but I looked ridiculous in the process. Using an impressive combination of quick thinking and utter cowardice, I writhed around on the ground for a while in pain. Was I hurt? A little. But my ego was mortally wounded. So I played the sympathy card so everyone would be more worried if I was okay than they were about my epic misplay. A secondary benefit was that all the attention was on me (I went for that a lot growing up) and not on the heroic homer hitter.

Why do I bring this up? Because I'm accusing our former Vice President of pulling the same exact crap. On a day where our country, and the world, gathered to inaugurate Barack Obama and usher in hope while ushering out the stench of Bush (insert obvious douche joke here), Mr. Cheney arrived at the event in a wheelchair. Do I know for a fact that the man didn't need one? Of course not. I'll even go so far as to offer a sincere apology and a "get well soon" if he is genuinely in pain. But seriously, now...packing and unpacking his own boxes? By an old man who has had people doing shit for him (both legally and illegally) for at least 8 years? I'm just not buying it. I find it FAR more likely that the man realized that relative to the bright light of optimism, his lopsided snarl and "to hell with you" attitude would come across like he was one of the hellish shadow creatures from "Ghost." I say that after using the Constitution like his personal diaper for so long, he thought people may judge him harshly as he heads out the door. So, 'what to do,' wonders the man who was recently quoted as saying "I don't understand why so few people like me" (HINT: people don't like you precisely for uttering statements like "I don't understand why so few people like me"). Cheney's solution? Garner false sympathy by showing up to the event in a freaking wheelchair. And, just like me lying on that field, Mr. Cheney enjoyed the side benefit of having the attention, which was fittingly on the history-making event around him, briefly diverted in his direction. So, to sum up, nice job, Dick.

Upon reviewing all the facts, or in this case, my blatant presumptions and opinions with zero proof, I officially say to you, Mr. Cheney: SHENANIGANS!