I like to have Food Network on in the background just in case a recipe comes up that I might want to try. And believe me, that's more not than often.
This was on the other day - Guy's Big Bite - the incredibly douchey Guy Fieri with this bozo - literally Bozo, as in Bozo the Clown, or rather a demonic-looking Bozo. There is a definite resemblance. I believe credit is due to my friend BuckyKatt for that side by side photo. I just had to stop and gawk.
Asstard and Bozotard. This is what Food Network is marketing. This is what Food Network thinks we want to see - two middle-aged-frat-boy-wanna-be-poseurs living in the rents' basement which is furnished like a big toy store for boys who never grew up. Bumper pool table. Big screen TV. Guitars, drum set, and band equipment. Race car number and stripes on the fridge. Pin ball machine. Surfboard. A wall display of hub caps. A wall display of license tags. Just a seriously kewl bachelor pad. Check it out: If this set isn't cutting edge, I don't know what is. Bumper pool table.
Guy was egotistically kind enough to autograph his own refrigerator. I knew my refrigerator had been lacking a certain something but I just couldn't put my finger on it. Now, I know. Note to self: Self, get out a Sharpie tomorrow and put your Rosie Hawthorne on that Kitchen Aid
This is a 1970's Drop-A-Card pinball machine which still works. No one beat Guy's high score of 8408 (out of a possible 9999). Why does that not surprise me?
The requisite wall of license plates. A wall or ceiling of tags is ubiquitous at restaurants in these parts. I do not understand this trend at all. However, I do like this clever display of license plates. It's in my dentist's office and it's the preamble to the Constitution. Click to enlarge. I made a special trip today just to go to my dentist's office and shoot this. I walked in and asked Liz, the uber office manager, the bestest best of every office manager in the world, would it be OK if I went back to the X-ray room to shoot pictures of the Constitution in license plates. "Sure. Go on back." Funny. She didn't bat an eye. Like people come in everyday and ask to take pictures in the bowels of the offices. Liz just schussed me in. Sorry I missed you today, Nancey. Oh ... I digress. Back to Guy.
The bozo on the right goes by the moniker, Stretch. All of Guy's friends have stupid nicknames - Mustard, Dirty P, Kleetus, The Spaniard, Mikey G., and Panini Pete come to mind. (Dirty P? Is that from a failed drug test?) I went online and found this more complete list of Guy's posse:
Mustard: Matt Sprouls. The key guy on my BBQ team Motley Que. He's in my video diary. Dirty P: Paul Thompson. He's named Dirty P because you gotta meet him. Kleetus: Kevin Cox. He has a big truck and likes to drive us around. The Spaniard: His real name is REL and he's a hairstylist and ex-breakdancer. The Oppussum: Jess Smith. He's a taxidermist. Uncle Milty: A real estate mortgage broker member of the BBQ team Motley Que. Pintodious: Matt Pintor, a locksmith, which helps out in a lot of ways. Daly: Brian Daly. He lives in Vegas. Reno: Eric Swikel. He's nicknamed Reno because he's not big enough to handle Vegas. Grumpy Pete: Pete Howe is my best friend from college and he's always pissed. Sundance: Chris Lands. He can't handle things, he's always going down.
By the way, if you want to become a member of Guy's Krew, just go here and sign up.
Guy was born Guy Ramsay Ferry and actually changed his name to Fieri, an affectation I guess to make it more ethnic or to celebrate his Italian heritage. (Is he of Italian descent?) Whatever. Then he Giadacized his fake Fieri name by pronouncing it Fee-etty. Tool.
Guy has his ridiculously stupid "signature" look - complete with spiked, bleached hair, fake tan, bowling shirts, board shorts, sweaty wristbands worn on his arm, lots and lots of bling, numerous tats, and those freakin' sunglasses he wears on the back of his head. And he has his catch phrases which are idiotic: "That's money!" "Off da hook!" "On like donkey kong!" "Let's go downtown shopping!" (when he's going to the fridge to get his ingredients) My favorite was on his web site for a while, then it was removed: "Rock out with your cock out!" Yes. You read that correctly. Saturday Night Live recently did an unfunny sketch about that. Check it out here at the 40 second mark where Guido (Guido- that's what Guy's posse call him.) disgustingly chows down on a ham. Rock out with your hock out.
And if I have to watch this turd cram grease laden food into his gaping maw one more time I 'm going to throw something at my TV screen.
Please tell me: Exactly what demographic is Food Network targeting here? Guy's Big Bite. I know. I know. Why do I watch if I hate it so? I have free will. I have a remote control. I could turn the channel. It's like watching a train wreck. It's like passing by an accident. I'm an admitted gawker. As for the next picture, Jillian of Food Network Humor blog said it best: "That one of Guy Fieri has been making me want to claw my eyes out for the past 2 years." I feel your pain, Jillian. I see you and I raise you a sweat band, some bling, and a goatee. Bite me, Guy.