This is only going to be funny to those of you who suffered the agony of driving around the slick hills of downtown Seattle in 2005, in the rain. Looking for an enormous Italian restaurant, where we eventually realized there were like, six parties having their birthday simultaneously — that’s right Slumberparty: Vancouver survivors (some of whom just came back from Slumberparty: Cruise), I found Bucca de Beppo again. WHILE LOST OFF OF MY ASS TRYING TO GET ON GOD DAMN I-5. YEAH, YOU HEAR ME SEATTLE? I’VE FIGURED YOU OUT. YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL ME WITH A CAR. BUT YOU WON’T WIN, DAMN YOU.
Okay, no, but for rill. Fo’ rill: the real point of this post is to talk about the beautiful saffron-scented crack that gets injected straight into my veins: Bravo’s Top Chef.
It’s important to understand that because I am a whore, I will watch almost anything with Ted Allen in it — you may remember him from such groundbreaking visual art as Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, Iron Chef: Battle of the Masters, and also, Decoding the Past: The Real Sorcerer’s Stone.
…And now that we’ve lost the entire contingent of tin hats waiting with baited breath for the Harry Potter book to come out that’s just disappeared to go look up that TV special, we can continue.
No, seriously, my crush on Ted Allen is somewhat disturbing.Â He looks like the type of guy I would want painfully to date and then as soon as we went out we’d just spend the entire night talking about how Britney Spears needs to get back together with Justin Timberlake and pigeons or something and then by the time we finished up our creme brulees I’d think he was gay (rightfully) and he’d think I was a femme and/or hag (rightfully, well.Â Sort of).Â But then we’d become best friends until his boyfriend was all like, “Why do you like her better than me?” and I’d be all, “You need to get his face out of his junk because he is straight tripping.“Â And then I’d be rightfully slapped for attempting to be ghetto — but you get the point.
The point is: I will watch…appalling things for Ted(dy).Â So watching something as awesome as Bravo’s Top Chef is no dif. for me, especially when everybody is being catty over truffle oil and who was the poor motherfucker who got the geoduck (pronounced gooeyduck, yeah, I don’t know either, but I quizzed my roommate and the seafood guy at Pike’s Place for like, an hour) to cook.Â I’m sorry folks: suffering is funny.
But it also of course makes me think about a horrible SGA crossover possibility where Rodney, John, Elizabeth, Teyla, and Ronon are all judges on Top Chef and Zelenka is one of the guest chef judges who gets into a slap fight with Rodney.Â COME ON YOU KNOW YOU LOVE IT.
My point is: who else loves this shit?