I got home late from work tonight and wasn’t going to Smack Down at all, but I got my shit together and smacked some Thomas Keller Ad Hoc down most righteously. And now it is close to my bedtime, and Flickr doesn’t want to upload any of my photos and I’m a little cranky and the house smells like fish. All of that to say: post coming tomorrow.
Good night, and good luck.
Six left to go before we crown the next winner and resume waiting for the REAL Top Chef to come back, and this week we have to do it without Hank Azaria.
Susur, Rick, Susan, Marcus, Rick, Jonathan: make it interesting. Please. Previews show some sass, a lot of running and a possible Marcus/Rick showdown. I don’t want manufactured drama, but I also want to stay awake.
Also: Bravo, don’t pull any of this extended episode shit on me. Because I will come for you.
Another harried weeknight, another bowl of pasta covered in green crap.
Unfortunately, it’s only available in Brazil. So if anyone’s going, could you pick me up a set?
Make that “Strawberry Daquiri Fro-Yo Forever.” We’re going all TCBY up in this hizzy!
And then there were seven.
Carmen was sent packing back to her (presumably) tiny house last week. Who will be next? How much weed will Jonathan Waxman smoke? Who will cut him or herself on Susur’s cheekbones? Will Rick Moonen ever be vaguely happy about anything? How many times will a Sex and the City 2 commercial make me want to put out my eyes?
Also: Hank Azaria! W to the O to the OT.