Food Network: Has It Gone Downhill?
First, there's the uber-annoying Rachael Ray,
cheapest tipper I've ever seen,
apparently sporting some tribal necklace made of bones,
and wearing a dress that she just really shouldn't wear,
(Does she not have a mirror or a stylist?
If she has a stylist then Rachael should fire her
'cause she's not doing girlfriend any favors.)
and her slovenly husband who could and should, at any time,
benefit from a haircut, shave, and shower.
He does look a bit Neanderthal in this photo, doesn't he.
Second, there's Lard Weasel/Tater Tot/Douche/Tool/General Ass,
with his tats, bling, sweat bands, spiked bleached hair,
nasty goatee, and sun glasses
which he usually toolishly wears on the back of his head.
His kitchen is more like an arcade what with
the pinball machines, pool table, wide screen TV's
with Extreme Sports always on.
It's kind of like a frat boy hangout
in the rents' basement.
And he has posse of creepy, goony, homies with names like
Kleetus, Bags, The Spaniard, Mikey G, Mustard, and Dirty P
(Is that referring to a failed drug test?).
He makes girlie drinks
and has a communal group suck of his "Grape Ape Bowla,"
served in a fish bowl,
which I heard as Grape Ebola.
His catch-phrases annoy me to no end:
"On like donkey kong!"
"Off da hook!"
"That's money, I tell ya!"
"Let's go down town shopping."
(As he turns to his refrigerator, opens the door,
and gets out ingredients.)
His most egregious catch phrase
was on his web site:
"Rock out with your cock out!"
Thankfully, that's been taken out.
This is not a grown man.
This is a stunted poseur.
A pudgy wanna-be surfer dude
wearing board shorts
who so wants to be hip and cool
but fails miserably and spectacularly.
Here's Guido's web site
if you have the strength to look at it.
And Guy Twitters too.
I know.
Fascinating stuff.
And, God help us,
his homey/groupie Kleetus,
a dazzling virtuouso of words,
has a blog.
This man disgusts me.
If I have to watch him shove mass quantities of grease-laden food
into his gaping maw one more time with the grease dribbling
down his chin I will scream.
When he comes on, I actually want to throw things at my TV.
And third, what would Food Network be without
our drunken Aunt Sandy,
trilling "It's cocktail time!"
Oh Sandy?
Whoever does your makeup
should work on your sun-damaged chest too.
Just saying.
Her Sandy Math on her new program,
"Money Sucking Meals" eludes me
and I must say I miss her Cocktail Time with
her staggering ratios of booze to more booze and
with choking hazards/gernishes in her drinks.
And I especially miss her tablescapes.
I want my Semi-Ho back!I had to stop short of crazy-cacklin'-crappin'-in-the-driveway-
buttah-lovin'-horndog-Pauler
with her two sad-sack boys,
Beavis and Butthead,
or Dumber and Dumber,
or Most Beloved and Least Loved
or else my brain was going to explode.
Has Food Network gone downhill?
You be the judge.
