Top Chef Sucks

Never again am I committing myself to watching an entire season of a particular television program (that’s not a sport) as last night’s final episode of Top Chef proved more disappointing than the time I sent Leslie to the store for “hamburger cheese” and she returned with an oily block of Kraft Cheddar.

First off, according to my calculations, the finale’ was comprised of equal parts Diet Dr. Pepper commercial and television show. Every couple of minutes a six pack of Diet Dr. Pepper showed up on my screen and began dancing down the candy aisle in a tickertape parade of morbid obesity and adult-onset diabetes.

Second off, they hardly showed any cooking whatsoever. They showed a lot of stuff about choosing teams and storing ingredients, but they didn’t show a damn bit of cooking or cooking technique.

Third off, what the hell was Wynton Marsalis doing as a judge on a food show? The lineup of judges went something like this: executive chef, executive chef, executive chef, executive chef, executive chef, food critic, food critic, food critic, jazz musician.

Fourth off, the worst person that could have won ended up winning. Stefan was the most talented of the bunch, but he was a cocky asshole and Tom Coliquio didn’t want to vote for him. Carla probably made the best food of the bunch, but she clearly fucked up by taking some shit advice when she, among other things, decided to boil her meat in a bag??? So, by default, Hosea was the winner because he was the least offensive and made the most conservative menu selections. His winning reminded me of the time Tampa Bay won the Stanley Cup against Calgary. How the hell can Tampa Bay beat Calgary in the Stanley Cup? I don’t even think people in Tampa Bay were rooting for Tampa Bay.

Anyways, when it was all said and done I felt as though the television had been wasting my time especially when you consider that I could have been killing zombies and playing Xbox instead.

Open Bar

On Friday evening Leslie and I started going out to run some errands in the outer-townships of Philadelphia, but by the time we got moving the traffic was terrible so we just got some pizza and came home. I was suffering from the tail end of a minor cold at this point, and we had big plans for Saturday, so we just spent the night at home and retired to bed early.

On Saturday we went and got those errands ran and there was hardly any traffic. At first it looked like there might be some traffic on the Expressway, but then we saw that it was just a minor construction backup and we breezed through in no time. All in all we got the errands ran with relative ease and didn't hit any traffic.

Saturday evening was Leslie's big formalized gathering of doctors event. It was held in the lobby of some hotel and they had an open bar and a rock band. I spent most of the evening entertaining the young doctors with my various anecdotes and gestures. The event gained my approval, aside from the fact that there was no cake. I'm guessing I drank about 10 beers and one shot of tequila.

On Sunday I woke up feeling like an old whore on her birthday. I think it was probably the beer that did it, but it very well could have been the lack of cake. After about an hour of moaning I managed to shuffle my way to breakfast, but I couldn't get anything down so I had to leave a perfectly good plate of eggs and bacon sitting there along with a cup of coffee. Eventually Leslie made up some curry (A-) and that got me back on track. I hope Leslie bakes a cake.

Toast

Amount of time it took me to make a piece of toast this morning = 15 minutes
Empty jars of jam in the refrigerator = 1

A Film Short

Leslie made a couple short films about our lives together and, though I was initially skeptical, I must admit that they are pretty solid films and they sums up our lives in a nutshell. I now submit these films for your enjoyment: