People are always sending us all these emails to us at firstname.lastname@example.org and paging our beepers, asking us all these annoying questions. Who do you love? Who do you hate? Who do you want to savagely murder? Who do you want to get your slip-slip-squirt on with? Who do you want to settle down with, have 2.5 kids, gain 60 lbs, and then stop having sex with? Who gets you all horned up and ready to kill? So we decided to play a little game: KILL/BOFF/MARRY. We picked who we want to muder, hump, and betroth. This little game has been split up into 3 separate blog posts which we will be releasing consecutively. This helps to build suspense just like they did in LOST and Hurricane Katrina. Remember when we were like on season 2 and we were like who the fuck is Jacob? And why is Ben Linus so gayballs for him? It took us until season 5 to realize that he was just the ageless protector of the island for more than 2,000 years, trapped in a battle of good and evil with his nameless brother and was the one that brought everyone to the island to help recruit his successor. It all makes so much since now. Anyways, here is round one of Kill/Boff/Marry….
Why do we want to kill Guy Fieri? Well, we certainly don’t wanna boff or marry him. That’s for sure. He will never be any man of mine. Any man of mine better be proud of me. And even when I’m ugly, he still better love me. I can be late for a date. That’s fine. But, HE better be on time. So, let’s kill this fartbag. Is it the hair? Yes. Is it the shirt with flames? Yes. It is the facial hair? Yes. Is it because he wears his sunglasses backwards? Yes. Is it because he poses like Fred Durst in all his pictures? Yes. Is it because he was in an Aflac commercial with that fucking stupid duck that quacks “Aflac” and HE came across as the annoying one? Yes. Is it because he screams unnecessarily all the fucking time? Yes. I mean, as far as I can tell, there are only two occasions where it is appropriate to raise your voice to that level. One, you’re yelling at Mom, because you stayed out drinking all night and came home smelling like a stripper passed out in a dumptruck and she called you on it, or two, you’re getting raped by a fireman while your house burns down around you. So, is this why we hate this Summer’s Eve Disposable Douchebag? Yes, it’s all of these things and more.
So how would we choose to kill this son of a bitch? That’s a great question. First, we’d shave his head along with his fat, bloated, drunken, too red to not be drunk face and force him to eat every last strand of his frosted, gelled, bleach blonde staircase abortion of a hairdoo. Then we’d take a nailgun and nail his sunglasses to his eyes, (the correct way mind you) because apparently this dicksnot doesn’t get the fucking point. Next, we would make him watch as we actually set fire to all of his flaming (and we mean that in the gayest definition of that word) shirts, including the one that is currently on his person. Let him cook for a good 2 minutes and then put out the fire with homemade breadcrumbs. Then we would gently massage some NEOSPORIN® onto the 3rd degree burns on his lovely lady lumps. Wait a second, that’s not NEOSPORIN®. That’s Italian Dressing. It’s my favorite. Garnished with a little cilantro to cool it down a little and really give it that fresh taste. A little ground pepper. And then glob on some buffalo sauce and we’re driving the bus to flavor town! I mean, really be generous with the buffalo sauce. Now we are going to top it off with a little roasted garlic, serve it over our salmon-mango rice and KASPLOW! Full throttle on the flavor express. Toot toot! My taste bud’s taste buds are going to be squirting goo-bombs all night long.