Suck on it, Giada

Hi, let me plaster on an insincere smile for you.

I'm strongly considering choking you.

My boyfriend has converted me into a Food Network addict. Every weekend, we watch Sandra Lee, the crazed middle-aged Barbie who makes borderline insane safari tablescapes and "recipes" consisting of, liked, canned pineapple and seasoning packets from the grocery store. We watch Ina Garten, a poosty Hamptons fag-hag go about her daily "I am more fabulous than you will ever be" routine and make barbecue sauces containing over 50 ingredients, and always - always - cautioning to use the "good vanilla" (god forbid you use any ingredients that can be found in a plebeian supermarket). And of course we watch our absolute favorite, Paula Deen, the "bless this kitchen" affable Southern cook that I always picture to be Truvy's mom and who makes every dish with literally 6 sticks of butter and a pound of sugar.

However. The one show that I cannot, CANNOT stand is Giada De Laurentiis' Everyday Italian. I cannot handle this woman. First of all, she cooks all these fatty, cheesy dishes and yet is a size zero with tits pushed up to her chin. Uh-huh. Let's see....what else.... Every time she stumbles across an Italian word she has to pronounce it in the most obnoxious American I- learned- a- second- language- at- home- so- I'm- better- than- you dialect. "Mo-zz-a-RELL-a!" "Ciiiia-BATT-a!" How about, shut the fuck up? Also, periodically throughout the show as she's working, she looks up, stares directly into the camera, and plasters on this insanely uncomfortable, unnatural smile. It looks like she's flying on cocaine. But the absolute worst, the part that really seals the deal, is when she closes the show by "entertaining". She invites all of her horrible, horrible L.A. friends over to the house, forces them to work first while bossing her way around the kitchen, and then they all sit around the backyard afterwards clinking glasses at how boring and L.A. they all are as she scrapes around for compliments.

There, I said it.