I spent today in the bowels of the pilot plant testing shitbag bags when the radio is turned on and because of the shitty weather there’s no fucking signal, except that the commercials come in really well and no one changes the station or touches the fucking antennae so I’m stuck not hearing anything but commercials for 6 hours. I could normally live with this except that the Seven 11 commercials telling me to “stock up on chips” for the “big game” comes in retardly clear. So every 18 minutes I’m told to stock up on chips at a Seven 11.
- “Chips” are the type of thing I stock up on. Maybe water, cereals, flour, condoms (it could happen) or porn, not fucking chips.
- If I were to stock up on something, Seven 11 wouldn’t be my target location. When I want giant stock of something I go to Sam’s Club and buy chips that come from a cardboard box the size of a shipping container, not the skimpy 8 oz bag or what ever useless size it comes in. I’d get a 55 gallon drum of French onion dip and not leave my house for a week.
- “Stock up”isn’t the term to use when referring to party. Maybe “get extra” but “stock up” is something you say before the rapture or ensuing meteor-induced fiery holocaust.
- Seven 11’s barely have sufficient technology to operate their fucking hot dog rollers, what business do they have using radio technologies? If I find their God-damn chips have a Facebook group I’m going to find the king of the dot-heads
- Call it the fuck Super Bowl. “The Big Game” is the kind of non-descript term that’s use to localize old episodes of The Brady Bunch or when old people try to be topical and generic. Why not just ask “how’s the local sports team?”
As you can tell, I hate Seven 11 commercials.