The Food Network fascinates my husband. He’s always watching the Iron Chefs or some other program and sometimes makes recipes he’s seen on these shows. While I rarely find my way to the Food Network channel when left to my own devices, I do not mind watching the programming with one notable exception.
I cannot stand Emeril. I. Do. NOT. Like. Him. Something about him really bothers me. And of course, his show is a favorite of my husband. I’ve tried to watch it with him. I’ve even tried to like it because the husband loves it. But I just can’t.
Actually, to say that something about Emeril bugs me is an understatement because I think everything about him bugs me.
He’s always cracking jokes that I never find amusing. He’s loud and obnoxious. He hums while he cooks. He’s loud. He looks creepy. And did I mention that he’s loud? I honestly think that I would probably be annoyed with the way he breathes. I bet he’s one of those nose whistlers.
So, he can cook. I can cook. At least half the population can cook. I just don’t have my own show or minions to laugh at my lame-ass jokes.
And if I hear Emeril say, “Use your knob,” one more time, I will freak the f*#k out. And I’d really like to tell him what he could do with his knob.
If my TV had knobs, I would turn them to the off position whenever he graces the Food Network. The remote control will have to suffice.
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