Go Away Rachael Ray

There is a thorn in my side and it goes by thy name Rachael Ray. Yes you Rachael. You suck. I’m seeing you again and again and again, on new networks, I can only roll my eyes and let out a loud sigh. What can I do? I have screamed. I have complained. I have thrown remotes. Nothing. You continue to fester. You were formerly the most annoying cooking personality on TV, and now you are branching out with the incessant vigor of Eurasian Milfoil. I have a reoccurring nightmare – I’m at an amusement park, stuck on a perpetual ferris wheel sitting between you and David Schwimmer. I wake up every time as I am free falling through my suicide leap. You are making a serious run up my most hated celebrity list, contending for a cherished position specially reserved for Kathy Griffin, who has had a vice lock grip on #1 for 6 years running. How the hell are you as popular as you are? Your perkiness and energy are infectious – infectious like wanting to drop kick a Chihuahua infectious. You’re seriously annoying. You’re seriously repetitive with your seriously stupid Rachael isms. You constantly flail your arms around like a headless turkey. You talk out of one side of your mouth like a stroke victim. You have NO real credentials as a chef. You are the William Hung of celebrity chefs. Where did you go to cooking school Rachael? French Culinary Institute? Le Cordon Bleu? Where? That’s right. No where. You make goulash. Mario Batali wouldn’t serve your food to his busboys.
You found success with your 30 Minute Meals in Albany. Good for you. But you just had to use that to get on the Food Network. You gained popularity with your $40 a Day: Best Eats in Town show. It’s a shame it wasn’t revealed earlier by these restaurants how it was possible for you to eat all those great meals at such great places for under $40. You short the wait staff. Gaining popularity at the expense of the common man. I was about as surprised to hear that as I was when I heard how you freaked out on your staff Chris Berman style for bringing you the coffee you are the spokes woman for (Dunkin’) instead of your preferred Starbucks. Rumors.. Right. How did you get off thinking you could branch out from there? Suckling Oprah’s teat until you got your own daytime talk show. Since when is a sub par chef certified to give daytime advice to women? Just because Tyra’s forehead and Steve the bouncer from Springer have their own shows DOES NOT mean you should get in the mix and try to become the next Martha. Seriously, you? And you interview guests? I want to see you interview Gene Simmons like I want to see Andrew Zimmern from Bizarre Foods host the Top 10 Beaches on the Travel Channel. You were quoted with the syndication announcement of your show saying "People know me for my love of food, but I have so much more I want to share." Rachael. Did you ever stop to think that we don’t want you to share your recipes – let alone your thoughts?
I see you sexing up your look too Rachael. I noticed. It’s not working for me. Remember when Jenny Jones tried to turn into Hot Jenny Jones in her later years to save ratings? Same result with you. In your terms – limp noodle. Yeah, I know FHM had you in the 100 Sexiest Women in 2004 and 2006. Don’t get ahead of your self Ray - I have also seen the redhead daywalker from American Pie make that list. I have seen Marissa Miller NOT make that list. The list is as exclusive as a soup kitchen and less accurate than a dyslexic accountant. Random celebrity pingpong balls. Giada makes you look like foie gras and she makes better food too.

So what makes you popular Rachael? You’re beer and the rest of the Food Network is Champagne? Your Rachael Rayisms? Yum-o! So Delish! Calling Dunkin’ Donuts “Fantabulous!!” “Oh my gravy” you’re so f-ing lame. You like blending words Rachael? Lets see..You’re sucktastic. Craptacular. Fannoying. I was elated to see that your poor woman’s excuse for Martha Stewart was circling the Nielsen’s bowl faster than the Sarah Connor Crapticles. Your star is falling Ray. I’ll be there to catch it the day I look up one of your recipes.

With disdain,

Uncle Monty