Guhhhhhh

Psst.

Hey.

You.

Yeah, you.

C'mere.

Lean in.

I have a secret to tell you...

I DISLIKE ANTHONY BOURDAIN!

Wow. I feel so much better now that that's off my chest. I know I should like him, I know... for some reason he has some following, but here's the thing: I've never understood why people like him. He's snotty, he's dry, and even his positivity is tinged with negativity. (On those attributes, I call "uncle," and realize that sometimes I'm like that, but like to imagine I'm nothing like Anthony Bourdain, because my icky negativity is tinged with Jewy, adorable goodness.) But also: his teeth bother me to no end, as do his clothes. I mean for the love of God, he's a famous chef/writer/tv personality. Is there no one among his cronies who could suggest invisalign and a fitting pair of jeans?! And here's the other thing - imagining him naked and in the throes of passion sets my teeth on edge and makes me want to sink a razor deep into the fleshy inside of my forearm.

His way of speaking makes me... for lack of a better word, "Naush." That's a Jessica-ism, and it's pronounced "Nosh" as in "Nauseous," but with a New Jersey Flavah. By the way, while I'm thinking New Jersey, watch this clip, I don't know why it's so funny, but it reminds me of an ex-roommate of mine, also Jessica, also from New Jersey: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RTs5eKZ0i1E (especially where she's like "Pick up this shit," or "It's cold.")

But yeah, listening to him talk, over a mouthful off foie gras or goat brains or guinea pig hearts, and use the word "unctuous" or "gelatinous" makes me want to unct in my lap. I don't like his ruminations and I don't like watching him lope around like Manzilla the Eating... Loper. That was a swing and a miss... moving on.

So, Fie on you, Anthony Bourdain! Fie on your derisive commentary and your "everyone should live in Tahiti" philosophy. Fie on your teeth and your old-man chest, and your horrible jeans, and your black boots.

Get off TV, and stop eating nasty terrible things, like Andrew Zimmern, who, clearly, was that fat kid in the school cafeteria who used to eat bugs for a quarter, thinking that the throngs of middle-schoolers eewing at his efforts meant he was popular, instead of the icky fat kid eating bugs off the floor. (R.I.P. to the icky kid who used to paint his tongue with White-Out and lick the bus floor. He died of Leukemia. It was sad... and sort of unsettling. I won't name him, out of respect for the dead, but some of you know who he was. Poor guy.)

So, those are a few reasons why I don't like watching Anthony Bourdain. He's got one of those shows, where it's really easy to start clueing in to things you don't like about him, and fixating on them. Just like whenever I watch that retard, Rachael Ray now, and I can't get through a show without wanting to hurl drinking glasses at my TV screen. (But I wouldn't do that, because that would destroy thousands of dollars worth of glass.)

So... If I see you, Anthony Bourdain, at the South Beach Food and Wine Festival (Get your Tix now, Kids! They're only $200! (Fucking. Awful.) I'll... I'll... Probably just not stare at you agog with admiration like I do at other personalities, like George Duran or Dave Lieberman or Alton Brown or Paula Deen...

Oh, and I'm not kidding, kids. Buy your Tix for the SoBe Food and Wine Fest. Saturday's Publix Grand Tasting Tent. It's totally worth the outrageous price.