Blog 2-2: Top Chef Taste Test # 8

Remember when I was sick last week? Or this week? If you don’t, let me refresh your memory with a made up word: coughniffle. I love that word. Seriously. I’d marry it if our society wasn’t so stuck on the traditional values of a man boning a woman. What if I wanna bone a word? Lemme do it, dammit! Y’know what? Fuck society — I’m boning coughniffle right now. Come here, baby! I’m gonna cough the niffle out of you. I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds saucy!

OK, enough boning words (call me, baby!). Let’s review the last episode of the best cooking show about chefs who want to be on top.

Sounds better than "A cooking show where chefs compete against each other every week in order to determine who is the top chef."

Top Chef Taste Test # 8

Episode 14: Finale Part 2

Wow! This is the last episode, eh? It is. I actually knew the answer to that question. But, y’know, I wanted you to feel a part of this blog by answering it in your head. I hope you got it right, because if you didn’t, you’re probably the stupidest person ever. OK, maybe not that stupid. But you’re definitely not as smart as me. And, well, I’m pretty stupid. So, if you didn’t know this was the last episode, I suggest a brain implant. That, or a self-inflicted gunshot to your face. Whichever is easier/cheaper.

So, if you’ve been reading mypast seven reviews, you’ll know this season of Top Chef kinda sucked. It’s not the fault of the show so much as the contestants — they were terrible. The challenges were actually pretty sweet (I really enjoyed the Super Bowl one in particular), but like a shit sandwich, it’s always going to taste terrible because it’s, well, shit on bread. And shit tastes like shit. And that’s exactly what the contestants this season tasted like. Except for Carla — she tasted like Big Bird shit.

Carla tastes like his shit.

The second part of the season finale wasn’t too bad, though. Mostly because they brought back one of my favorite chefs from last season, Richard Blais, to be a sous chef. The whole time I was thinking, “Fuck — Richard should just take the place of one the actual contestants and win the title he rightfully deserves.” Then immediately after thinking that, I patted myself on the back and said I’m the smartest person I know. Which is a lie, ’cause I’m idiot, but since I’m too stupid to know myself was lying to me, I believed it! Go gullible me!

So like most finales, the challenge was pretty simple: cook the best three course meal they can. Which, of course, is asking for too much, because all three finalists can hardly cook one course without fucking up. But, if Richard Blais was a finalist, he could have done it in his sleep. Actually, he’d probably do it better awake (not sure how he’d cook in his sleep), but the point is this: Richard Blais is about 23942394239492394293492942 times better than everyone else this season.

The highlight of this episode, to me, was Stefan getting fucked on numerous occasions. Which, in a way, is fitting because he’s a huge dick. HOSE-A-YAH fucked him over by taking a lot of an ingredient he also wanted to use (boo fucking hoo) and by giving him alligator as the surprise appetizer (which he actually ended up nailing unfortunately). And, the last bit of fucking was his own doing: his desert course sucked ass. Even so, I kinda wanted to try that banana lollipop because I adore bananas! Mmmm — fruit dicks.

I taste like liquid nitrogen.

Carla *really* should have won the challenge, but she’s a total idiot because she listened to Casey from Season 3. Um, hello, did you not watch Season 3, Carla? Casey is hot, yes. Good chef? No. But did I mention she’s hot? ‘Cause she is. So, Casey, listen — I’d fuck you (don’t tell coughniffle!!), but I would *never* eat your food. OK, maybe I would (I love free food), but I’d probably lie and say it’s good. Sorry, babe! So why Carla listned to Casey is beyond me. She must have been wooed by her looks. Wait, Carla’s a chick *and* she’s married. OK, well, she’s just an idiot then. ‘Cause it looks like she could have won if she just stuck to what she does best. Oh well.

She can touch my meat, but I won't eat hers.

It’s all good, though, because Stefan thankfully didn’t win. That means, yep, that HOSE-A-YAH is this season’s Top Chef. Which is total bullshit. That’s like declaring me the winner of the smartest person in the world competition because everyone else competing were either inbreds or monkeys. Even Carla winning wouldn’t have been that great, but at least she actually proved she can win a challenge. HOSE-A-YAH proved he’s good at one thing: cheating on his girlfriend with a total bitchface. Good job, man! You also win the title of Top Cheater, fuck face.

So, yeah, the finale kinda sucked because, well, the contestants sucked. Still, I had a good time watching the show and I will definitely watch it next season. I just hope they choose better contestants. Or, they can just do my awesome idea of doing a season where they bring back all the top chefs from previous seasons for an ULTIMATE TOP CHEF! How awesome would that be? Answer: Really fucking awesome. So basically they’d take the top 3/4 chefs from each season and pit them all against each other. Did I say I was stupid earlier? I take that back — I’m a fucking genius.

Final Rating: 7 banana lolipops out of 10

Well, that’s it kiddos! No more Top Chef for me to review. Crazy it went by so quick. Don’tcha worry, though — I have ideas for other things I want to write about on here. It’s just a matter of getting me to stop being such a lazy bastard! Motivate me, people! 

BTW: If you don’t watch Lost, you’re an idiot. Sorry, but you are. That show is fucking amazing. Oh, and if you watch Heroes, you’re also an idiot. That show is fucking terrible. But since I’ve already established that I’m an idiot (except for my brilliant Top Chef ideas), I’m immune to the suckiness that Heroes gives off.

Aight — peace out!

Michael

Blog 2-1: Top Chef Taste Test # 7

*Cough cough cough* I’m sick. That’s why I haven’t updated in a while. That’s also why I wrote “cough cough cough” to start this blog entry. ‘Cause, y’know, people usually cough when they’re sick. Or sniffle. So if you’re a sniffler as opposed to a cougher, replace “cough cough cough” with “sniffle sniffle sniffle.” The worst is when you do both at the same time, or what I like to call, a coughniffle. Ever done that? Probably not. I just tired and it was really hard. You’d have to be really good at being sick to do something so technical. I’m sure someone in a hospital can do it. If so, they deserve a medal. And a cure. Probably the cure more than the medal, unless the medal was made of chocolate. Then the medal — I love that fake-gold chocolate.

Sick skills.

So what have I been doing since I’ve been sick? Coughing (been over that). Sniffling (ditto). Coughniffling (he’s lying — this shit is impossible-to-perform). Watching Top Chef. Yes, I watched Top Chef when I was sick. I also watched a fuckload of Food Network. But, then again, I watch a fuckload of Food Network when I’m not sick, so my state of being doesn’t really matter when it comes to watching people cook crap on TV. I guess I’m really just a housewife without the house. Or the wife. At least I have a blog, though. How else would I review that cooking reality show that y’all don’t watch? Well, I guess I could dictate it out and post the audio on the Internet. Or film myself. Or…wait, I think I was trying to get myself back on subject. Oops — sorry, self! It’s cool.

Sounds better than "Gobble gobble gobble, burp!"

Top Chef Taste Test # 7

Episode 13: Finale Part 1

I can’t believe we’re at the finale already. Or at least the first part of it. It feels like yesterday I started writing these reviews. Yes, yesterday. Actually, no — it doesn’t feel like yesterday at all. It feels more like a couple of months ago. But, still, that’s not that long ago. That’s only long as, well, a couple of months. And a couple of months is about as long a month plus a month, which, if you think about it, isn’t that long. So, shit, I can’t believe it’s the finale. Or at least the first part of it.

Emril's favorite wrestler.

Top Chef usually does a good job of making the finales really awesome. This year, they brought in Food Network favorite Emril Lagasse to be the guest judge. Y’know, that lovable oafish chef who likes to add GAHHHHLICK to everything while saying funny phrases like, “bam,” “let’s kick it up a notch,” and “grab a plunger, because my food is the shit!” OK, I made that last saying up, but everything else is true. Emril is a pretty cool guy, so I was stoked to watch him judge the contestants. Oh, they’re apparently in New Orleans, too, hence why Emril was chosen (he’s a big New Orelean’s chef).

So, to be honest, I was *really* sick the night I watched this episode, so I kinda don’t remember anything that happened. For instance, for some reason Jeff came back. Why? I dunno. But he came back. He was just as monotone as ever, too. Maybe even more so. I think the excitement of being brought back somehow made him even *less* alive in front of the camera. You could slit a kitty’s throat in front of his face and he probably wouldn’t even flinch. Instead, he’d give that that patented blank stare, followed by a brush of his hair. Then back to blank stare. Then he’d say: “I really like kittens.”

I'm so excited to write this caption.

But I do know that Jeff was brought back for a second chance. Pretty cool, eh? Yeah, well, except for the fact that he *had* to win the elimination challenge in order to stay in the competition. And, if he won, they would have cut *two* chefs! Pretty awesome rules. Too bad he didn’t win (though he did come really close!). Instead, Carla won. And Stefan almost got kicked off. No, today isn’t opposite day: What I just said is true! Carla won the challenge and Stefan almost got kicked off. Wait, I don’t think today is opposite day. Fuck, it may be. Unless it *isn’t* opposite day? And by it not being opposite day, it means that it is in fact opposite day? Ouch — my brain hurts!

Yeah, but Carla won! Kooky, bug-eyed Carla — gotta love her. I do now. I used to hate Big Bird, but I’ve totally warmed up to her. She’s totally ridiculous, but given that Stefan is a man-penis and HOSE-A-YAH is a man-pussy, I really don’t have anyone else to root for now that Fabio is gone (*tear*). I’m not totally confident she will win, but I’m definitely hoping she does. I *realllllly* hope Stefan does not win. Unlike other cocky and talented chefs from past seasons (Hung, Richard Blaze, etc.), I don’t think he deserves it. Plus, I want to see him cry an ocean when he loses. Then I want to swim in it. Luckily, I only have to wait *one* more day before I find out if he loses or not!

Aight — I guess I’ll see y’all in a few days to recap the last episode of Top Chef. Try not to cry as much as Stefan will tomorrow.

Peace out,

Michael

Blog 2-0: Top Chef Taste Test # 6

Howdy, folks! I’m in Texas right now. That means I get to greet you with stupid southern slang, y’all. See! I get to say shit like “y’all,” too. This is really great. Except for the part about being in Texas. Other than it, it’s really awesome. I can’t wait until I get to make love to cow. Moooo! Oh, wait, that’s Oklahoma — my bad!

False advertising.

Now you’d think that because I’m in Texas right now, I wouldn’t watch Top Chef and do my weekly review. Well, of course you would think that, because you’re an asshole! Seriously, why you gotta be so mean? Give me a little credit. So what if I didn’t know Oklahoma is the state where you fuck cows! How am I supposed to remember that? It’s not like I fuck farm animals all the time…anymore. Eww! Did I just say that? I did? Why? It’s gross. Who wants to hear that? Don’t answer that, sicko! Move along — this isn’t the bestiality you’re looking for.

BTW: I love farm animals. Just not in the “fucking” kind of way. But I do love reviewing Top Chef to a crowd of peeps who couldn’t care less about it. Because, if you cared, I wouldn’t care. And if I didn’t care, I wouldn’t share. And if I didn’t share (or care), the Care Bears would fuckin’ maul my ass. Not that I couldn’t handle them — remember, I once killed a bear with my bare hands. Fact!

Sounds better than "Chopped."

Top Chef Taste Test # 6

Episode 12: The Last Supper

So my Ma fucked up TiVoing this episode and didn’t record the first 20 minutes of the show. Hey, don’t complain — my Ma recently had shoulder shoulder and currently has a RoboCop arm. Seriously — her arm sling thingy is fucking awesome! It has this cold pad that hooks up to an ice chest and cools her shoulder when she’s hurting. The doctor even said that, while wearing it, she’s a legally qualified half android. I’ve been trying to get my Ma to use phrases like, “Drop it, creep!” and “Dead or alive, you’re coming with me!,” but she’s afraid people might think she’s one of them evil “exterminators.” Plus, her RoboCop accent is pretty terrible — she sounds like a drugged-up New Yorker who just had a root canal. But at least she’s doesn’t eat baby food for subsistence. Seriously — RoboCop needs to watch Top Chef. Good thing I did!

I'd buy that for a dollar.

So, like I said before my RoboCop tangent, my Ma recorded the episode late so I missed the first 20 minutes of the show. Which means I didn’t catch the Quickfire Challenge. Bah, who cares, though? We’ve already established you don’t, so I guess I don’t either. But I imagine they probably cooked some food in a quick, fire-like challenge. And I’m sure Bitch Face Leah whipped up something terrible, whining in the process. And HOSE-A-YAH probably said something about how he’s “the fish guy” while routinely fucking up whatever fish dish he made. Fabio probably made his obligatory funny by fucking up some idiom with his broken english. Stefan most likely verbally masturbated about how awesome he is all over the viewers’ faces, ’cause he’s a huge dick. And Carla probably made no sense by blabbering ridiculous phrases like “Hootie-hoo!” while looking all crazy at the camera with her big ol’ bug eyes. So, as you can see, y’all probably missed nothing.

The Elimination Challenge, while creative, was really fucking depressing. Check this out: The chefs were tasked with cooking the “last supper” for a bunch of superstar chefs. Because it’s fun to think about the last meal you wanna eat before you croak. Well, I guess it is if you’re morbid. Or immortal. Or a RoboCop. But I think all the meals the superstar chefs chose were super lame. Come on, let’s think about this for a second — if you can choose your last meal, why would you only choose *one* dish when you can choose *multiple* dishes? Duh! I mean, shit, if I could choose my last meal, I’d totally request a badass buffet, complete with foods from around the world. Smart, huh? Of course it is! If you ever get to choose your last meal, you owe me big. Wait, if you have a last meal, you’ll be dead. Hmm — howsa ’bout you owe me now? Works for me — I expect handsome checks in my mailbox in 3-5 business days.

So the only notable thing about this challenge was Stefan overcooking his salmon. That, and Fabio kicking ass after he broke his finger. I have to say I’ve become quite a fan of Fabio. He’s by far the most entertaining chef on the show (second only to Bird Bird (AKA Carla)) and is pretty decent in the kitchen. I hope he wins the competition. OK, that probably won’t happen. Fan favorite? That’s more likely.

Everything else that happened was totally predictable: HOSE-A-YAH fucked up seafood, Bitch Face Leah fucked up everything, and Padma fucked up my hormones (yowza — her dress was hawt!). Even Bitch Face Leah (finally) getting kicked off was predictable. Same with the end credits. I mean, fuck, who didn’t see those coming?

I may be a Jew, but I have to admit this painting is pretty sweet.

I’m stoked for the last two episodes, though. The competition is a little one-sided, but hopefully Fabio or Carla can pull it off. If not, they can at least win the competition of entertaining me. Not sure how that makes them winners, though….

Aight, cowboys and cowgals, I’m going to mosey on out of here and fuck a cow — Oklahoma, here I come!

Peace out,

Michael

Blog 1-9: Facts of (my) Life

Why, hello there — I didn’t see you! Just kidding, I did. Just kidding again — I can’t see you through the Internet. Just kidding again — I *could* see you if you had a web camera and we used some nifty service like Gmail’s video chat. So, to recap: I can’t see you, but I could, it depends, the end.

Don't mess with Texas. Unless you have $10-$1000.

Phew! Anyway, I just wanted to update to let y’all know I’m flying out to Texas in a few minutes to shoot guns, ride horses, and shoot horses while riding guns. Should be fun. Or not. Probably not. But, hey, at least I’ll get to use sayings like “hee-haw!” and “I can’t believe people actually fucking live here!”

Before I go, I figured I’d share some stupid facts about me. 25, to be exact. If you have Facebook, you probably know where this came from. If you don’t, you still probably know where this came from. And you should quit Myspace already — that shit is soooo 1999.

Anyway, here’s the facts:

1. I’m really a robot.
2. Just kidding — you’re so fucking gullible.
3. I do like robots, though. Especially ones who are cops. Named Murphy. Speaking of, when I was a wee little lad, my pops took me to see RoboCop in the theater. Remember: RoboCop is a gory, hard-R flick. And I was, oh, about 5 or 6. Which is probably why the mutated dude at the end traumatized me enough to make me leave the theater and pretend to play the Star Wars Arcade Game until the movie ended. Now I love mutated dudes. Would marry one if Prop 8 didn’t pass.
4. Did you really believe me when I said I was a robot? ‘Cause, I mean, I could be.
5. Seriously, I’m not a fucking robot. Get it out of your goddamn head.
6. I collect cereal boxes. I’m not sure how many I have at the moment, but I definitely possess more than a 100. Also, a robot would never collect cereal boxes.
7. Unless it was a robot designed specifically to collect cereal boxes. Did you ever think about that? I haven’t. Until now. Fact.
8. I once played the caterpillar in my Middle School production of Alice in Wonderland. I got to sit on a giant mushroom, too. While wearing blue makeup all over my face. This was before the Blue Man Group, mind you. So, in a way, I’m the first Blue Man. I’m suing.
9. Excluding RoboCop, I’ve only walked out of one movie in my life: Funny Farm. It delivered the farm, not the funny.
10. I like waiting in lines at theme parks because it requires you to come up with creative conversation. Plus, I like waiting. I’m very patient.
11. That was a lie. I’m very impatient.
12. For a short time in my life, I watched Nickelodeon GAS (Games and Sports for Kids) exclusively on television. To the point where I had the daily lineup memorized. I don’t have the official numbers, but towards the end of the channel’s life, I believe I was the only person watching it.
13. I was once slated to appear on the MTV dating show “Next!” but had to cancel to take the job at EGM. To this day I regret passing up the chance of meeting the love of my life. I mean, fuck, I could be married right now. Instead, I writing stupid facts on Facebook. Next!
14. These are the only comments I received on my senior thesis devoted to videogame journalism: “Having no interest in videogames, I’m inclined to read no further. The word is you worked hard on this, so that will have to suffice.”
15. I sometimes malfunction when water is thrown on me.
16. I have a mad crush on CNN’s Heidi Collins — she is pretty like my mom.
17. For about 3-4 months, I went on a raw food diet. Meaning, I didn’t eat any cooked food. Think that’s weird? Well, it gets weirder: One of my main meals was raw chicken. Hungry?
18. I sleep with the knotted-up remains of a Sesame Street blanket I had as a kid.
19. When I was a toddler, I used to dance to Michael Jackson’s Thriller on vinyl. And my ma has pictures to prove it.
20. I can’t watch The Goonies without crying.
21. I once killed a bear with my bare hands.
22. When I listen to music on my headphones, I simulate cymbal crashes by nodding my head in different directions. And I look like a total idiot in the process.
23. Whenever I ride an airplane, I always grade the landing on a letter scale.
24. My dream is to be in a metal band that sings about cute things like kittens and dismembered corpses.
25. 01001000 01100001 01101000 01100001 00101100 00100000 01100010 01101001 01110100 01100011 01101000 01100101 01110011 00100001 00100000 01001001 00100000 01110010 01100101 01100001 01101100 01101100 01111001 00100000 01100001 01101101 00100000 01100001 00100000 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101111 01110100 00101110 00100000 01000110 01101111 01101111 01101100 01100101 01100100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100001 00100000 01001110 01100001 00101101 01101110 01100001 00101101 01101110 01100001 00101101 01101110 01100001 00101101 01101110 01100001 00101101 01101110 01100001 00100001 00100000

Unrequited love.

Peace out!

Michael

Blog 1-8: Top Chef Taste Test # 5

Yikes — sorry this is so late! I promise it will never happen again until it happens again. How does that sound? I’ll tell you: Almost as awesome as this.

So, lets get straight to it. I’m sure you’re at the edge of your seat. Or at least the middle. End? Just pretend you’re excited. OK? Thanks.

Sounds better than "Wok Out With Your Crocks Out."

Top Chef Taste Test # 5

Episode 11: Jamie Got Fucking Screwed (AKA Le Bernardin)

Man, what the hell happened last week? Seriously, tell me! Tell me what happened. Oh, wait, you don’t watch the show. Well, why not? It’s a great show! You should really watch it. Then you can write this and I can go back to watching stupid cat videos on YouTube. Speaking of, this one kills me. What a stupid cat! I just want to punch him for being so stupidly cute. And eat him. Haha! Just kidding — I don’t *really* want to eat him. That’s gross. Plus, I like the taste of dogs better.

This isn't annoying.

Just kidding again. I don’t like to eat dogs, I promise. Unless they’re coated in coconut — then I’d want to eat at least 1 or 75 of ‘em. That goes for just about anything, really: kittens, babies, cardboard, poop, it don’t matter — put coconut on it and I will scarf it down. No joke. Except the part about me lying about eating anything that has coconut on it. Apart from that, yes, no joke.

So this episode started off kinda crappy with a ho-hum Quickfire Challenge. Basically, the chefs had to cut fish. Because, y’know, cutting fish is really exciting to watch. Actually, it’s not. I was being sarcastic. It was really boring. And gross. Fish guts, like most intestines, don’t look really pretty. Like, I wouldn’t want to makeout with them. That cat I showed you earlier? The one who stupidly boxes (seriously, he is such a idiot)? I’d totally makeout with him. ‘Cause at least he’s cute. His guts, though? Nah. Sorry. I’ll pass. Thanks for offering, though.

The only redeeming factor of this challenge? Watching Bitch Face Leah quit during the middle of the challenge. That’s right — she fuckin’ gave up! Quit. Threw in the towel. Put up the white flag. Signed off. Clicked the “X” button at the top righthand corner of her Internet browser. Got the idea? No? You sure? I just listed five examples of quitting. Well, you know, what? I’m quitting — like Doug would say, I’m outta heeerrreeee!

But unlike, Bitch Face Leah, I’m still going to finish this blog. ‘Cause I’m not a loser. Actually, that’s debatable. Let’s say “quitter” then. Yes, that works better: I’m not a quitter. Onward we go! So what else happened? Hmm, they probably cooked some food — this show *is* called Top Chef, y’know.

Bitch Face-approved product.

I’m right — they cooked food. Actually, their Elimination Challenge was to recreate dishes from the guest judge’s restaurant. Pretty cool challenge, I guess. But all the dishes had fish. So if you like chicken, beef, pork, veal, buffalo, lamb, boxing cats, or dogs, you were totally fucked. Luckily, I like fish, so I wasn’t fucked. But they didn’t cook my favorite fish, salmon, so I was sorta fucked. More like dry-humped, actually. So I got off OK. Jamie, however, got majorly screwed.

Seriously: What the *hell* were the judges thinking? They kicked off Jaime, one of the better chefs on the show. And they kicked her off over Bitch Face Leah who GAVE UP in the Quickfire Challenge earlier in the episode. Not only that, but she totally didn’t understand the dish she was trying to recreate. And yet she stays on the show. I was shocked. I wanted to punch someone in the face. And this was before I had seen that stupid boxing cat. My god, seriously, what is up with him? Does he think he’s a boxer? Well, listen up fuck face: YOU ARE NOT A BOXER! YOU ARE A STUPID CAT THAT I WANT TO PUNCH IN THE FACE! As for Bitch Face Leah, I hope someone punches her in the face someday. Preferably me.

Final Episode Rating: 3 boxing cats out of 10

That’s it, folks. BTW: Lost was awesome again last week. Love it. Heroes was crappy again last week. Love to hate it.

Peace out,

Michael

Blog 1-7: Top Chef Taste Test # 4

Hey, did y’all notice anything weird happening last night? I did. Not only did I notice it, but I also felt it. In places I’d rather not disclose here. Private places. No, I’m not talking about my dick. Or ass. Nor my mouth. Listen, I’m not going to tell yo — no, it wasn’t my belly button either! Will you let me continue? Please? OK — good. Anyway, like I was saying, something really wei — you already said my ass, you ass! Fine, I’ll tell you: It was my…oh, shit! Today’s Thursday, right? Well, that can only mean one thing: It’s Thursday! That, and it’s also time to review the latest episode of that chef show.

Sounds better than "I Love Chefs"

Top Chef Taste Test # 4

Episode 10: Super Bowl Chef Showdown

What the shit? Top Chef actually didn’t suck ass last night. I mean, it did suck a little, but surprisingly not ass. That’s impressive if you ask me. Even if you don’t ask me (asshole), I still think it’s impressive. Wait, now that I think about it, it’s really not all that impressive. Partly because the awesomeness of the episode is due to the fact that they brought back a bunch of the show’s past contestants to go head-to-head against this season’s crop of crappy chefs. The other part: two creative challenges.

Contains your daily serving of Product Placement.

Challenge # 1: Quaker Oats Product Placement Quickfire Challenge Brought To You By Quaker Oats and Product Placement Sponsored by Quaker Product Placement Oats. So, I’m about to admit a nerdy thing. Wait, I *am* a nerd. Nevermind! Hey, check out how nerdy I am: I subscribe to the Food Network Magazine. Yep, it’s awesome. No, really! I’m not joking. It’s amazing. I read that shit every morning when I eat my delicious bowl of Trader Joe’s Maple Pecan cereal (or Vanilla Almond — depends on the day). Seriously, if you like magazines and/or the Food Network, it’s worth checking out. Now if you’re embarrassed about reading it, and someone questions you while you’re in the act, simply tell them you think Paula Deen is hot. Say it while licking your lips for extra effect. And, if you really wanna get off without getting made fun of,  rub the magazine between your crotch while licking your lips. Trust me — they’ll never question why you picked up the Food Network Magazine again. Unless they’re pervs — then you’re fucked.

Sure, I'd do her.

Anyway, the Food Network magazine is hot. And so is Paula Deen. Haha — just kidding! OK, she’s kinda hot for an old chick. I mean, sure, I’d do her. Why not? She’s a hornball (no, seriously — watch Paula’s Party! She’s like a southern version of Richard Dawson). But seriously: the magazine has this really awesome section where they give the Food Network Test Kitchen chefs common, store-bought food items (ramen noodles, cornbread mix, etc.) and then ask them to come up with creative recipes using that particular product. It’s kinda like a crappier, less fancy version of Iron Chef. Only instead of the chefs being made of iron, they’re made of tinfoil. Anyway, the quickfire challenge on last night’s episode was very similar: Basically the chefs had to come up with a recipe using QUAKER OATS and another food group they randomly got assigned (beef, dairy, veggies, etc.). Cool challenge, yah? Yah! Poor Fabio, though — he made a deep-fried, QUAKER OATS-crusted eggplant that looked kinda gnarly. The guest judge Frank Fuckface (what? I forgot his name) totally hated it, too. And, for once, I kinda felt bad for Fabio. In fact, I’m starting to really like him. Not in a man-crush kinda way (that spot is reserved for Desmond from Lost), but it’s clear that Fabio is by far the most entertaining personality on the show. He’s almost like Top Chef’s version of the WWE’s Santino Morella. Don’t worry — the odds of you getting that reference are QUAKER OATS-crusted none with a side of nada.

Cereal's savior.

Challenge # 2: So the actual elimination challenge was totally awesome. Basically, in the honor of the Super Bowl, they brought back chefs from past seasons to battle against this year’s crappy contestants. To make things more interesting, each chef had to choose a team (Dallas Cowboys, New York Hobos, Seattle Starbucks, etc.) and then create a dish using ingredients local to that particular team. So awesome! But it gets awesomer: So after the chefs compete, the judges and audience taste the food. The judge’s overall winner scores that particular chef (and team) a touchdown (7 points), while the audience favorite grants the winner a field goal (3 points). Pretty neat, I must say. And, shockingly, the Top Chef all stars lost! I was so shocked! Wait, I already said that. But I was! Shocked (third time)! The whole time I was watching, I was just like, shit, this is shocking (fourth). Then I was shocked (fifth) about being shocked (sixth), which, in a way, was shocking (seventh), because you’d think by this point I’d be over the shock (eighth) of being shocked (ninth), but I couldn’t help it, I was just sh…I was just..sh…shaken up, really.

But I gotta congratulate this season’s chefs. I kinda thing it was rigged, though. Especially since Padame only voted against one Season 5 chef. And it was weird that this season’s best chefs (Stefan, Fabio, and Jeff) all lost. I actually felt bad for Fabio and Jeff (mostly Fabio ’cause he overcooked his meat), but, man, was it *hilarious* watching Stefan lose. Even better was watching him almost cry in the judge’s room. We can only hope he does one episode. Or I can only hope. But you should hope, too.

To recap: If I ate this episode, I probably wouldn’t puke it up.

Final Episode Rating: 9.453 deep-fried, QUAKER OATS-crusted eggplants out 10

Remember: Lost is awesome and you should watch it (holy shit — Whidmore was on the island?!?) and Heroes starts up again next week (can’t wait to complain!). Good times to be a boob tube-lover.

Peace out,

Michael

Blog 1-6: Top Chef Taste Test # 3

Today is Friday. Just thought I’d tell you that. I mean, chances are you know that, but you could be someone who is incapable of remembering which day it is. If you are such a person, I recommend this thing called a “calendar.” It’s great — it lists all the days in a month. You can even get ones that have playful pictures for each month. Like kittens. Or guns. Or kittens shooting guns (my favorite).

This kitty calendar kills.

I also recommend you learn acronyms. A good one to remember for today is this: T.G.I.F.B.S.I.C.F.W.F.T.W.B. (Thank goodness it’s Friday, because, seriously, I can’t fucking wait for the weekend, bitches!).

The reason I’m telling you what day it is even though it’s completely fucking obvious to anyone who isn’t the aforementioned idiot I listed above? Well, I usually write my Top Chef reviews on Thursdays (that’s the day before Friday for all you day-forgetting dimwits), but, as you may have noticed, I neglected to do this. I hope you didn’t mind. Because I didn’t. Haha — I’m such an asshole. No, really — I’m not. I care. Too much. That’s why I’m telling you this. Plus, I like to ramble. You should know this by now.

Sounds better than, "So you think you can cook shit?"

I also like to (sometimes) get back on topic. So let’s do that: Top Chef Taste Test # 3

Episode 9: Restaurant Wars

I need to sue Bravo. After five seasons of Top Chef, you’d think they’d stop with the false advertising. I’m sorry, folks, but it’s criminal that every episode of restaurant “wars” contains no guns, bombs, or exploding barrels. Seriously, did the producers look up the word “war” before they named this challenge? ‘Cause I just did and it says nothing about cooking crap. It’s insulting, really. They should have called it “Restaurant challenge where we split the teams up into two groups of four and then have them come up with their own unique concept for a restaurant so they can compete with each other to see who is better at starting their own eatery with little-to-no prep.” See! That makes *so* much more sense. No confusion. No lies. And, best of all, no promise of violence. Because, really, can’t we have peace in our restaurants?

Still waiting to be saved.

And even though this is supposed to the most popular episode of the season, it was a bit of a yawner for me. I did, however, enjoy watching Hose-A-Yah and Bitch Face ruin their relationships on national television by trying to bone each other. Can’t fuck with karma, folks. Especially when you’re on a reality show that hires professional stalkers to record your every move. Which, if you think about it, is the creepiest uncreepy job ever. Seriously — these guys get paid to be pervs. Isn’t that sick? Despicable? Repulsive? Man, I really need to learn how to use a camera…

I am kinda bummed that Radhika got kicked off, though. It’s always a shame when chefs get cooked off for not doing what they’re on the show to do: cook. But, if I were I judge, I would have kicked her off purely for her hideous outfit. Yikes! Mirrors, Radhika — they’re amazing. You should really look into one — literally.

The rest the episode was about as thrilling as a Jeff sound bite. And as tasty as a Bird Bird dessert. Which, for people who don’t watch the show, means it sucked ass.

Final Episode Rating: 5 Bird Bird desserts out of 10

BTW: I randomly appeared on the official Lost podcast this week. It’s great — I get made fun by the people who make the show. It’s like my life everyday, only awesomer. Here’s the link: CLICK ME! CLICK ME! CLICK ME!

Peace out,

Michael

Blog 1-5: Talking pictures talk

Free time is awesome because it allows you to do whatever you want. And it’s free. Even though time technically doesn’t cost anything. Well, unless you’re buying a watch or something. But that doesn’t count. ‘Cause, I mean, watches are stupid. Seriously, who owns a watch nowadays? If you said, “yes,” you’re an idiot. Sorry. It’s true. I bet you also own a phone, too. Well, your watch is now redundant, idiot. See! I’m totally right in calling you an idiot. You probably thought I was so mean for randomly throwing out an insult, but I just proved only an idiot would think I was an idiot for calling you an idiot, idiot.

It's time to realize you're an idiot.

So what was I talking about? Oh, yeah — free time! So free time is awesome because it allows you to do whatever you want. And it’s free. Wait, I already said that. Sorry. But both statements are true: Free time *is* awesome and it really *is* free. And because both statements are true, it allows slackers like myself the opportunity to see talking pictures whenever I want. Like, say, I wanted to see a movie right now. I can. Two minutes from now? Yep. Howsa ’bout two and half minutes from now? Still can do it. Three hours? Yes. 6 hours? Uh-huh. 6 weeks? You bet. Infinity? No, you watch-owning idiot! But any other time works. That’s why I saw two movies last week. One on Thursday and one on Friday. Does it matter which days I saw them? No. Why did I tell you then? I dunno — why am I arguing with myself, self? I dunno. Me either. Cool.

I'm a fool, but I'm not fooled.

So a lot of people (OK, more like 2-3) asked me what I thought of Mall Cop. Y’know, the movie I was supposed to see for free on Thursday. I’m glad they asked, because I’m wondering to, ’cause, well, I actually didn’t see it. Don’t get me wrong — I wanted to see it. I think? No, I didn’t. Well, it was free, so I kinda did. Regardless, I arrived at the theatre too late and thus did not get in. Yes, the sneak preview for Mall Cop filled up before I could get there. I wanna say it was sad, but, in a way, it may have been a blessing in disguise. Wait, a minute — what the fuck am I saying? I could have saw Mall Cop for FREE. That’s just a blessing being an asshole. Hey, blessing — if I want to see a shitty movie for free, don’t stop me, OK? I don’t need your help. And your disguise sucks, too.

So, yeah, I didn’t see it. Sorry. But who says one has to see a movie to review it? Not me. I can review whatever the fuck I want. So let’s get right to it:

Talking pictures talk: Mall Cop.

Needs more cops.

Wow. Have you ever seen something so wow-worthy that the only thing you can say is, “wow?” I haven’t either. But, I bet if I saw this movie, I would have said that. Or “balls!” Probably “balls!,” actually, but I might have said “wow” at least once. Or never. It’s relative, really — who knows? You don’t. And neither do I. But I do know that Mall Cop is by far the best movie about a Mall Cop since the last movie about a Mall Cop. Too many times I laughed when said Mall Cop did silly things only a mall cop would do. Honestly, there’s nothing funnier than a cop who works at a mall. Or at least nothing I can think of, at least. I mean, if I slapped my knee anymore during the course of the film, I might have said, “Ouch, my knee hurts because I’ve been slapping it so much due to the hilarity of this cop working at the mall.” If you in any way like malls and/or cops, you must see this movie. People say that peanut butter and jelly is a good combination, but they’re wrong. Malls and cops — the new peanut butter and jelly

Rating: 10 malls out of a cop.

Anyway, I thought Mall Cop was aight. Could have used more malls. And cops. But it was pretty good. I’d see it again. For free — I’d never pay for that shit. But I did pay to see this:

Talking pictures talk: My Bloody Valentine 3-D.

Needs more 3-D.

Did you know this movie is in 3-D? The movie studios didn’t think so. I mean, why put “3-D” in the title? Does it need it? Not really. If they’re going to put “3-D” in the title, why doesn’t Hollywood tell me every movie that is “2-D?” Because now that I have seen a movie in 3-D, I’m going to just assume that everything from now on will be shown in three dimensions. So if the title doesn’t specify how many D’s it’s sporting, I’m going to demand a refund. You may think I’m stupid for saying this, but I’m not for two reasons: 1) I don’t own a watch, and 2) The customer is always right. Seriously, when I worked at Cinemark Theatres, we were told that no matter what the customer says, they are right. Secret fact: You can request a refund for every movie you see (regardless of whether you like it or not) and the management will have to oblige. I kid you not. BTW: I want commission on every free movie you see from now on. Thanks.

Back to the review: Holy fucking shit — this movie is in 3-D! My god — everything comes at you like it has an extra “D” or something. It’s fucking insane. One minute everything is existing with a couple of D’s, and then, boom, that extra D comes all over your face. It’s hot. And scary! At 17 points in the movie I thought I was going to die, but thankfully, every time the near-death-object missed my face. It’s a miracle, really — I thought that 7th pickaxe was totally going to hit me. But it didn’t. But, shit, did it come close. I swear, it was right in front of my face. If you go see this movie, I have two words for you: be careful!

Real 3-D image: look with caution.

The actual movie was aight, though. It started off lovely: some crazy miner brutally murders a bunch of people for no reason. Because reasons aren’t needed in silly slasher movies. The less we know, the better. But, sadly, the writers thought I actually cared about the story and characters. Um, hello — I want to see jaws fly off in 3-D (which I did — so awesome!), not characters talking. I can watch people talk everyday. And I do, and it’s fucking boring. But I can’t see miners stick shovels in people’s faces everyday. And it’s a damn shame, too — not enough miners want to kill nowadays. So I went to this movie wanting to see nothing but mindless gore. And I mostly got that, because the violent parts did satisfy the sadistic side of me. Shame the rest of the movie tried to tell a “story,” though. Didn’t the producers realize this movie is in 3-D? Story doesn’t matter when shit is flying at your face every three minutes (seriously — it really is a miracle I didn’t die).

Rating: 3, 3-D severed jaws out of 5.

OK, that’s it.

Peace out,

Michael

Blog 1-4: Top Chef Taste Test # 2

Shit — I only got an hour to write this blog. Why? I’m going to a free screening of Mall Cop later.

Segways are funny. Kevin James on a segway? Somehow not funny.

Yes, I admitted that. And yes, I’m ashamed. Wait, no I’m not! Did you miss the part about me seeing this crappy-looking comedy for free? Need I remind you that free things are free? That’s way cheaper than not being free. And in this tough economic climate, seeing a shitty movie for free is equal to buying 25 movies on blu-ray. So while you may think I’m an idiot for wasting my free time seeing a movie that looks like it will be as funny as watching that dog die in the stupid dog movie where the dog dies (actually, I’d probably laugh at said doggie croaking — my bad), you’re in fact the foolish one. Sucks to be you, foolio.

Sounds better than "Who loves to cook shit?"

OK, back on subject: Top Chef Taste Test # 2

Episode 8: Down on the Farm

Bravo is pretty good at fooling you into thinking an episode is going to be good based on the preview. It’s evil, really. If I lived in New York, I’d definitely visit their office and personally complain. Maybe. Probably not. But I’d at least call and complain. OK, write a letter. No, write an e-mail. Complain in my room? Yes, let’s say that: I’d complain in my room. Better yet, complain on my blog! Man, I’m brillaint. Here’s my complaint: Why the fuck did they bring Season 3 winner Hung back on this episode only for him to, oh, just about nothing? Seriously, what did he do besides taste the food? OK, yes, he also stood still. And I suppose he said some words, too. God dammit! I’m trying to make a point here: His cameo was absolutely useless. He didn’t even stick around for the elimination challenge. Like I said, useless cameo. No one even used his name for an easy dick joke. Tis a shame.

The rest of the world sucks.

Speaking of dicks, Stefan sure doesn’t suck at being one. And this episode pretty much nails you with that fact. Between his arrogant attitude after winning the quickfire challenge and his dealings with Jaime, Stefan showed us he’s better at being a prick than he his at cooking food. It was actually the first episode where I kinda felt bad for Jaime. That is rare, too — I think Jaime is a little too cocky for her own good. Wow, there’s a lot of penis talk in this paragraph. And I didn’t even mention the part where Stefan gleefully giggled about his “cock” joke at the farm. It was kinda endearing, actually. If you’re a pussy.

I actually thought this week’s elimination challenge was kinda cool, though. As someone who frequents farmer’s markets every now and then, I think it’s cool that they got all their grub fresh from the ground. But, again, I still find it amazing that they still manage to fuck up the easiest shit. I say this, but I’m reluctant to talk about the person who fucked up the most (poor Milf!). Instead, I’ll talk about the people who let my beloved cougar get kicked off: Hose-A-Yah and Bitch Face (I forget her name). Both these fuck faces basically let Milf get kicked off. It’s despicable. My thoughts? They both were intimated by the fact that Milf was hot, old, *and* a good chef. It’s a well-known fact that ugly people can’t cook (especially when they’re old), so it’s not surprising they’d stoop to Spike (he’s from Season 4, btw)-levels to slyly get her kicked off.

Please don't feed the animals.

But even though my beloved Milf got kicked off, I still enjoyed this episode quite a bit. It’s obvious the show is getting better now that a lot of the terrible chefs are back at home watching how stupid they look on TV (seriously, blonde chick, just kill yourself and serve it on a plate — it will be your best meal you’ve ever made). OK, that was mean. Don’t kill yourself, blond chick. You weren’t *that* bad. OK, you were, but at least you were kinda hot. Actually, I take that ba–ah, forget it! The poor girl has been through enough.

Final Episode Rating: 7.5 Milfs out of 10

OK, that’s it! Come back here next week for another review of a show you probably don’t watch.

Peace out,

Michael

Blog 1-3: Desert Island Disc

Cats make anything funny, including stalking.

Stalking yourself can uncover some weird things. Or, in my case, funny things (sorry if you fall into the ‘weird” category). So browsing the Interwebs this morning, I discovered my old blog from college (no, I’m not going to tell you where it is!). In it, I discovered I write like an idiot. Well, I’ve known that for years, but I forgot how bizarre my writing used to be. Working for a magazine/website takes away some that weirdness, and for good reason — I was writing for a mainstream audience who needed to digest information without the need to scratch their heads and ask, “Does this kid live on a daily diet of paint chips?” But when you’re writing for yourself, you have free reign to be as bizarre as you want to be. To be honest, I kinda miss those days. I was looking at some of my stuff and thinking, “Wow — how the fuck did I come up with that?” And the frequency in which I wrote, too! Jesus! Writing one blog today is hard work, but back then I wrote multiple updates a day. Well, I was also in college at the time. And in a writing program, so it’s natural that I would spew my verbal vomit quite a bit.

Anyway, I found this fun assignment I had to do for my music writing class and wanted to share it with y’all. The assignment was simple: Pick only one album that you would take with you on a hypothetical desert island. As you’ll see by my write-up, I had fun with it! BTW: Lemme know if you like this, because I might go back and dig up some other weird shit from my college days.

Nothing Feels Good like fucking up writing assignments.

So here’s my assignment (BTW: as I went to copy the text, I noticed I told everyone that I apparently did this “all wrong” — haha!):

Getting stranded on a desert island fucking sucks. I don’t care how much fun Gilligan’s Island looked on TV, but it isn’t all sipping on coconuts and playing basketball with the Harlem Globetrotters. And just so you know, if you ever plan on going to a remote desert island, for the love of god bring more than one CD with you.

So as I become Moses and write this message on a stone slab, I realize the errors in my way. The only CD I happened to bring was The Promise Ring’s Nothing Feels Good. Come to think of it, now that I am stranded on a desert island, this CD isn’t such a bad choice. If you are going to have to listen to one CD for the rest of your life, you need a pretty versatile band. Something like Andrew W.K. is good for when you, well, when you want to party, and that’s really about it. Variety is key and that is why I chose Nothing Feels Good.

To describe this album in the simplest terms, I would say it is a pretty eclectic mix of upbeat/happy songs sprinkled with a few quasi melancholy ones, good for days when the fire blows out and the birdies crap on your head. The songs are also repetitive and have ridiculous lyrics that are both short and easy to remember. This is a good thing. As your sanity crumbles, you want to still be able to sing along with the band. A song like “It’s the end of the world as we know it” by R.E.M. is a poor choice compared to a song like “Red & Blue Jeans” with the only lyrics being “Nothing feels good like you in red & blue jeans and your white and night things.” See, that’s not so hard to remember. The album also has many catchy bass lines and boy do I love me a good bass line.

I think the best part about this album however is the way it ends. The closing song is a very important thing to consider. You don’t want a CD that ends on a downer, and this CD doesn’t. Instead we are treated to soothing inspirational song, perfect for those dreaded desert island blues.