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You know, I ordered a pizza the other day from Papa John's. You ever notice how ordering pizza has become like choosing sides in a war? You got Papa John's, Domino's, Pizza Hut – it's like the Axis and Allies of fast food. So, I call up Papa John's, and they're like, "Better ingredients, better pizza." I'm thinking, "Great, I want a pizza, not a political statement!" It's like they're trying to start a pizza revolution. I just want dinner, not a philosophy lesson.
And have you seen their founder? Papa John himself? He's like the Willy Wonka of pizza, but instead of a chocolate factory, it's a dough factory. I half expect him to pop out of the pizza oven, tossing dough in the air, singing, "Come with me, and you'll be in a world of pure pizza sensation."
But seriously, can't we all just get along and enjoy a slice together? I don't need my pizza to have an ideology. I just need it to taste good and not give me heartburn.
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You ever notice how Papa John's commercials are like pizza confessionals? It's like they're sitting in a dark room, telling us their deepest, darkest pizza secrets. "I used to use mediocre ingredients, but now I've seen the light. I've repented, and now I make better pizza." I'm waiting for the day they have a commercial where Papa John himself says, "Forgive me, pizza lovers, for I have sinned. I once ate a frozen pizza, and I liked it. But now, I've found redemption in every pepperoni I slice."
And don't even get me started on the garlic sauce obsession. They act like it's the elixir of life. "Dip your pizza crust in this, and all your problems will disappear." I'm waiting for them to introduce garlic sauce therapy sessions. "Tell me about your pizza trauma, and let the garlic sauce heal your soul.
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So, Papa John's delivers, right? But have you ever ordered a pizza and tracked it online? It's like watching a high-stakes thriller. You see that little dot inching closer and closer to your house, and you're on the edge of your seat, thinking, "Will it make it before I pass out from hunger?" I ordered a pizza the other day, and the tracker said the delivery guy's name was Chad. Chad! I'm thinking, "Is he delivering pizza or auditioning for The Bachelorette?" I half expected him to arrive with roses and ask, "Will you accept this pizza?"
But you know what's worse? When the tracker says, "Your pizza is out for delivery," and you're waiting by the window like a kid waiting for Santa on Christmas Eve. You hear a car outside, and you're like, "Is that Chad? Is that my salvation?" I've never been so excited to see a stranger in my life.
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Have you ever noticed the messages they put on pizza boxes? It's like they're trying to be the Oracle of the pizza world. I ordered from Papa John's, and the box said, "Better ingredients, better pizza." I'm thinking, "Thanks, pizza box, but I was looking for advice on life, not pizza toppings." And then they have those little tips on the side of the box, like, "Reheat your pizza in a skillet for that fresh-from-the-oven taste." Really? Because last time I checked, I don't have a culinary degree. I just want to eat my pizza without feeling like I'm in a cooking competition.
I want a pizza box that gives me real advice, like, "Don't eat this whole thing in one sitting unless you're ready for a food coma." Now, that's wisdom I can use.
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