Things I think about while on the elliptical at the gym:
So there’s this Chef Boyardee ad that uses scenes from the above commercial that I’m kinda fascinated with because the way the 1953 guys says his last name. It’s Boy-YAR-dee, which is different than how I hear it now, which is boy-ar-DEE. I keep thinking about the Don Draper svengali-type who took a drag of his Lucky Strike, cocked his head while looking at a can of beef ravioli and said, “Boy-YAR-dee sounds too wop. Make it boy-ar-DEE.”
Then he takes a slug of whiskey and bones his secretary.
