Warning: Top Chef spoilers within

Two of my favorite shows premiered tonight, which brings the number of TV series I’ve got recording at present to a mind-numbing three! And it’s a good thing, too, because my Friday SciFi show just ended until fall, at the earliest.

As I mentioned Sunday, True Blood started again, and I’m a (warning: bad pun ahead) sucker for vampires, even those of the trashy, guilty-pleasure variety. Truth be told, you really have to screw up a vampire story, say…with teenagers and high school drama, for me to not be down with it. And no, I don’t mean this one; I like it just fine, although I really do need to read the series. Instead, I’m talking about that TV one, the one that’s like The Secret Life of the American Teen with but fangs, blood, and promiscuity instead of babies, chick-fights and promiscuity.

Yeesh, there are a lot of vampires running around these days!

Anyway, tonight we had premieres for Top Chef and Man versus Food. I haven’t watched Man v. Food yet, but it’s sitting patiently on the DVR, just waiting for me to find some free time. The Puddinette and I already caught Top Chef, though. Since there’s rarely something on that we both like, we tend to jump on common-ground shows as soon they become available. Kind of like fresh, warm Krispy Kremes at a fat camp.

At the end of the show, because she’s a kind-hearted, sensitive person, my wife was upset for the chef that got the boot tonight. I, on the other hand, was already of the opinion that if I’d had to watch much more of that particular cheftestant, I was going to be genuinely unhappy. Look, I’ve got plenty of appreciation for strange, creepy-looking people. Hell, I go to see movies by myself on occasion, which guarantees being judged on the Ted Bundy scale.

Actually, I guess there are some movies some dudes generally go to see alone, but that’s SO not what I’m talking about here. Also, those dudes are strange and creepy.

The thing about the Top Chef guy wasn’t that he was kinda weird or a tad odd-ball. No, no, I’m cool with that. But he looked dirty. I don’t care if he was actually the cleanest person on the damned show and bathes for six hours daily in a mixture of hydrogen peroxide, bactine, rubbing alcohol, and hand gel; the dude looked dirty. Chefs should not, cannot appear unclean. Period. It’s in the Puddintopia by-laws; look it up.

So, John, we bid you adieu. I encourage you to take this opportunity to put some of that newly-found free time towards learning about soap and perhaps an advanced study on combs.

And, yes, I know I am a terrible person, thankyouverymuch. Doesn’t make me wrong, though.

Pud’n

 

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