Coca-Cola Commercials

Coca-Cola, for some reason, has always opted for the "feel-good family time" strategy in their advertising campaigns. They're currently running a commercial where some people in an urban bring a table and chairs into the street (isn't this illegal?) for an impromptu family feast, replete with home cooking and, of course, 2-liter bottles of Coca-Cola. Others in the neighborhood, seeing the spontaneous jamboree in the making, then bring out their own picnic tables and chairs to join them. Soon, there

I'll ignore the fact that it's totally ridiculous to suggest that people in an urban setting would have picnic tables and chairs ready to go and instead deal with the absurdity of the theory behind this sort of advertising. What is the point? Are they saying that no illegal block party is complete without Coca-Cola? Are they saying that this tooth-decaying soft drink will bring my family together?

I am not moved by this commercial to purchase their product. Why? Because I don't care about picnicking in the middle of the street. This sort of feel-goodery doesn't make me think that I need this product. It doesn't appeal to any of my basic human instincts and, as a result, the commercial fails.

Here is my idea for a Coca-Cola commercial that would not only make me want to drink Coke, but would make me fear for my life if I drank anything else.

============Coca-Cola Suburban Strike Force=============


Jimmy is a normal 16 year old boy living in a typical suburban home. He walks downstairs to the kitchen and opens the refrigerator, from which he extracts a brown paper bag. We also see that the refrigerator is chock full of Coca-Cola. He looks around nervously and, content that he is not being watched, he removes a Pepsi bottle from the bag.

He opens the bottle and goes to take a sip when, suddenly, CRASH. Glass shatters and special forces units are diving into the room, guns blazing. Jimmy is shot up, Pepsi spills everywhere.

Jimmy's family runs into the kitchen, alarmed and confused. His father looks at the corpse of his beloved son and then looks up to the special forces members with a pained look on his face. The strike force team leader bends down, picks up the Pepsi bottle, and shows it to the father. The father nods grimly and salutes the special forces, who dash off into the night.

=============Fin===============

Now if that doesn't make you afraid to drink anything but Coke, nothing will.

Pizza 33 is a hellhole

In a perfect world, I would eat nothing but Cheesy Gordita Crunches from Taco Bell. I would savor one cheesy, sour-creamy bite after another, delighting in the fact that I am eating pure joy. I would wash it down with Mountain Dew Baja Blast, a flavor so ridiculously good that it's available only in Taco Bell. To release it to the masses would be to invite anarchy to our beautiful American society.

Unfortunately, it is not a perfect world and, as such, I must from time to time consume things besides the prestigious Cheesy Gordita Crunch. Tonight was one such time when, at work, we ordered the Terra e Mare pizza. A more appropriate name for this catastrophe would be the Terror e Nightmare pizza.

The shrimp, which I imagined would be plump and delicious, were tiny. Do you know the feeling you get when you're embarrassed and want to curl into a ball? I expect that the shrimp were so ashamed to be a part of this disaster of a pizza pie that they shrunk into themselves. I can't say I blame them. I, too, would have been ashamed to be a part of that pizza. The mushrooms were also offensively bad. The other intern who ate the pizza said he liked the mushrooms, but he is from Maine, a den of iniquities so profound that I will not discuss them in the detail they require.

The analyst whose credit card we used to order was likewise disappointed. He told us that the pizza was depressingly bad and that it reflected poorly on us as interns. He said, rightly, that in a city known for pizza that it was a true feat to discover a place that got every aspect of it wrong. Well done, Pizza 33. Thanks to you I have discovered the ultimate depths of human depravity - infinite. The other person to have reviewed this place is either an out-of-towner so enamored with the idea of new york pizza that he/she convinced himself/herself it was good (despite it not being so, I assure you) or he/she is an employee of this awful excuse for a restaurant.