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September 3, 2001

fade to black

I can think of no valid reason why the studio audience oohs and aahs and claps and, in general, makes a collective ass of itself every time Emeril adds pepper or garlic or even onions to the dish he is preparing.  Giving food taste is not a scandalous endeavour.  If it were, it would be only slightly less scandalous should a sane person gain admittance to Emeril's audience and, having had quite enough of his horseshit, bludgeon the chef with a tenderizing mallet before sauteeing his curly-headed noggin in a sizzling hot black-iron skillet.

And speaking of black things, the Black Entertainment Television (BET) network is not.  Entertaining, that is.  It serves only to cause me despair.

©  2001 by the beastmaster