The Pizza Hut Thread (Non-Coach RMers that you miss)

[doug rr]

[bodysnatcher]

Pizza Hut is the best out of the Big 3.5

who is the half? Little Skeezers?

Pizza Hut
Dominos
Little Caesars





Papa Johns (hardly qualifies as pizza)

Yeah, Caesar's is the half.

Papa John's is like eating a bicycle's inner tire tube

[bodysnatcher]

Strat's going to kill me but I don't like Dominos either. Their pizza crusts always look like this

[wease]

I love Dominos thin crust but not regular crust.

Caesars can’t even call itself pizza.

Papa John’s is garbage.

[Chris_H_2]

the dominos pan pizza is pretty decent. i can't eat any other crappy fast-food pizza though.

i had the high score on the ms. pac man at the one in our hometown once.

[Peeps]

there are three places near me i will order from and none are the big chain type

beaver valley mall pizza - the gentlemen that owns this used to work for a pizza boy in the early mid 80s and would give my cousin and i a free slice after hainging out at the arcade for a few hours. the best of the three

Giannis - this is closest to my my house and very good. its 30 bucks for a large with pepperoni, cheese sticks and j bombs

angelias - used to be in the same spot as giannis. i think there was a divorce and both decided to open pizza shops. really good sauce.


I dont think i have eaten in a pizza hut since 03 or somewhere abouts there

[Juvenal]

Funny cos Im friends with and have the phone numbers of almost all the across the Atlantic crew. And they all left cos this place is full of cunts. I’m not even joking.

Ah, those were the days.

[96583UP]

Domino's thin crust is the only major chain pizza i would potentially seek out at this point

Papa John's fell off a cliff since it's debut
Pizza Hut I haven't had in decades but it tasted like bad airplane food last time i had it
Haven't tried the re-boot little casesar's

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[96583UP]

when i think of sbarro's nothing really comes to mind regarding the pizza. just painfully overcooked and under-salted spaghetti

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[96583UP]

oh man yes

[96583UP]

my shopping mall go to in the golden era was Jerry's Subs & Pizza

iykyk

[Chris_H_2]

the lack of Sbarros discussion is pissing me off

I just walked past an Amish family on my way to my train. They were eating out of four triangle boxes with the most disgusting looking pizza inside. It was Sbarro. I’m still trying to figure out what was the most undignified thing for them.

[spike]

Haven’t had it in years, but I don’t Sbarro. It doesn’t really belong in this convo though, as it only exists in food courts.

[wease]

Haven’t had it in years, but I don’t Sbarro. It doesn’t really belong in this convo though, as it only exists in food courts.

Not true. There’s one in our local interstate truck stop

[Jorge]

Truck stops are the food courts of the highway

[wease]

Perhaps

[spike]

their best selling slice is sausage.