Ramsay with a knife. Ooo.From: Ryan
Sent: 20 November 2008 15:33
To: Richard
Subject: Ramsay
Bleedin’ ramsay is doing his live cookalong thing again this weekend. Have you had the misfortune of watching it yet? I watched a bit of one episode, and I think unless you are a pretty good cook (like me, and I suppose I would even go so far as to say, you) or have practised about 100 times before it is going to be impossible to do, what with Ramsay jumping around and shouting a lot, going too fast for anyone who isn’t a professional chef and calling everyone “Big Boy” and informing them to grow some testicles.
Anyway, this week it is retro 70's style and he is going to demonstrate how to mix ketchup and mayonnaise together (prawn cocktail), how to cook a steak and a rather hideous looking mandarin cheesecake! I don’t think I shall be taking part!
I was going to ask you something else in this email, but sadly I have now forgotten what it was.
----------------
From: Richard
Sent: 21 November 2008 10:25
To: Ryan
Subject: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
Ha ha! What a fuckin' cock he is. It seems that you find him every bit as laughable and irritating as I do. Why all the swearing Gordon? Why the bollock obsession? Why the staccato almost military recipe delivery? Oh… I see: because you’re still struggling to reconcile your prodigious testosterone pumped masculinity with the fact that you basically make a living from women’s work. One half of you still believes that the only time a man should ever enter the kitchen is to empty the rubbish bin on his way out to the chippy for a pie, whilst the other half is just aching to rustle up some delightful little petit fours.
Get back on the football pitch and grow some real bollocks you poncing, la-di-daa, “can-I-lick-the-bowl-clean” mummy’s boy. I bet you have nightmares about Jeremy Clarkson beating you up and stealing your lunch money.
And how does he get away with his patently sexist bollock schtick? It seems that someone’s value as a person is – in Ramsay’s view – directly proportional to the size of their testicles. In the case of women he bestows them with honorary testicles if they do well, as if to say that despite being a woman they’ve managed to rise to the occasion almost as well as if they had real testicles. Once again it points to his hidden shame about the feminine nature of his chosen domain. “Look!” He demands, “this is a real kitchen where real work takes place. This is no domestic womanly zone. No, this is a battleground: a culinary amphitheatre where only those with the most massively oversized balls shall prevail”. Pathetic.
And his recipes are shit. I once tried to follow one in a magazine, and, if I hadn’t been a reasonably experienced cook, I’d have been fucked. It was poorly written, vague and clearly the work of someone who is used to having an army beneath him to deal with the various preps and peelings of a busy kitchen. I think I ended up using pretty much every pan in the kitchen, my stove bristling with dangerously teetering and steaming pots. And, after all that work the results were flat and uninteresting.
I can’t imagine how anyone is meant to keep up with the nutter on the cook along. He darts and jabbers like some amphetamine fueled dervish with attention deficit disorder. Have you ever seen him being interviewed? When he’s not talking (with massive hand gestures and wildly rolling eyes) his hands and feet jig around like he’s got the DTs. What’s he running from? Who’s he trying to impress? Why does he need to constantly increase his empire? Another restaurant every week; a new show; a new book; a marathon to run; yet more children to sire: gotta be the best! GOTTA BE THE BEST!!! Christ! Can you imagine what his wife has to put up with?
Ramsey had high hopes for the efficacy of the Blessed Waters of Lourdes in curing his testicular elephantiasis
And as for his sickening courting of the vacuous celebrity world! Urgh! It makes me feel physically ill. Have you seen the F Word? It’s an egregious display of ego massage and mutual celebrity masturbation. The whole setup is so appallingly contrived what with all the exposure-craving B-listers sat chowing down at the tables whilst the camera flirts teasingly with them. “Oh when will it be my turn to be ritually insulted by Gordon” they wonder. I’m sure if they could they’d all have their hands in the air, straining, probably being supported by the other arm so as get it just that bit higher than their peers, “ooh Gordon, Gordon! I’m over here Gordon! Ooooh please Sir, can I be next?”. What kind of ego does it take to build such a Church for your own worship? The man’s got a messiah complex!
God he’s a jerk.
Done.
Janet Street Porter struggles to come to terms with the fact that she will always be one Y chromosome short of having a truly massive pair of nads.
----------------
From: Ryan
Sent: 21 November 2008 10:33
To: Richard
Subject: RE: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
Ha ha! Down with all celebrity chefs – Ramsay, Smith, Oliver, Lawson… and as for AWT and his stupid stubby little fingers. Yuck!
I have seen the F Word occasionally – I particularly despise Janet Street Porter and her search for unusual food . Camels milk is not meant to be drunk by people!! And as for dry ostrich meat, no thanks. What I find particularly amusing is the celebrity cook-off where Ramsay invariably loses to some celebrity who has cooked something like tinned macaroni cheese compared to Ramsay's overly posh, dry, too fancy “macaroni a la fromage”.
He even lost to David Blunkett, and he had to have a dog helping him find the potato peeler.
Blunkett displaying the confidence and poise possessed only by those with the biggest of bollocks.
----------------
From: Richard
Sent: 21 November 2008 12:53
To: Ryan
Subject: RE: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
P.E.N.I.S.
I would like to think that even my wife – that’s right, my wife – could beat “Chef Ramsay” in a cook-off. Jeez! I once had an ostrich steak and it was the driest, most boring piece of meat in the world. Unsurprisingly my good friends X, Y and Z (“very well done please”) think that ostrich is the steak of the Gods thanks to its bland, dry homogeneity and total lack of lubricating fat or indeed flavour. Coincidentally they also think that Ramsay is one of the greatest living Englishmen and that all the other chefs on TV are “middleclass poofs, faggots and gayboys”.
Speaking of middleclass poofs, faggots and gayboys, I don’t suppose you happened to see that “What to Eat Now” program? It was cool and the dude doing it – Valentine Warner – was the best food dude I’ve seen on the box ever. I’ve never seen anyone more orgasmically enthusiastic about their scran, and the food he cooked looked thoroughly delish and no-nonsense. I recommend checking him out if he’s on the ol’ iplayer.
Valentine Warner is continuing his campaign against the hair brush.
----------------
From: Ryan
Sent: 21 November 2008 13:01
To: Richard
Subject: RE: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
I haven't caught Valentine yet, I will be sure to check him though. Anyway, if they don’t like middle class faggots, how come they like Gordon "Posh Boy Big Bollocks" Ramsay!? He is, by his own admission, not an Englishman but a whey faced scot! I don;t know what happened to his accent though, or his haggis and fried mars bar induced greasy skin and gut.
Sent: 20 November 2008 15:33
To: Richard
Subject: Ramsay
Bleedin’ ramsay is doing his live cookalong thing again this weekend. Have you had the misfortune of watching it yet? I watched a bit of one episode, and I think unless you are a pretty good cook (like me, and I suppose I would even go so far as to say, you) or have practised about 100 times before it is going to be impossible to do, what with Ramsay jumping around and shouting a lot, going too fast for anyone who isn’t a professional chef and calling everyone “Big Boy” and informing them to grow some testicles.
Anyway, this week it is retro 70's style and he is going to demonstrate how to mix ketchup and mayonnaise together (prawn cocktail), how to cook a steak and a rather hideous looking mandarin cheesecake! I don’t think I shall be taking part!
I was going to ask you something else in this email, but sadly I have now forgotten what it was.
----------------
From: Richard
Sent: 21 November 2008 10:25
To: Ryan
Subject: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
Ha ha! What a fuckin' cock he is. It seems that you find him every bit as laughable and irritating as I do. Why all the swearing Gordon? Why the bollock obsession? Why the staccato almost military recipe delivery? Oh… I see: because you’re still struggling to reconcile your prodigious testosterone pumped masculinity with the fact that you basically make a living from women’s work. One half of you still believes that the only time a man should ever enter the kitchen is to empty the rubbish bin on his way out to the chippy for a pie, whilst the other half is just aching to rustle up some delightful little petit fours.
Get back on the football pitch and grow some real bollocks you poncing, la-di-daa, “can-I-lick-the-bowl-clean” mummy’s boy. I bet you have nightmares about Jeremy Clarkson beating you up and stealing your lunch money.
And how does he get away with his patently sexist bollock schtick? It seems that someone’s value as a person is – in Ramsay’s view – directly proportional to the size of their testicles. In the case of women he bestows them with honorary testicles if they do well, as if to say that despite being a woman they’ve managed to rise to the occasion almost as well as if they had real testicles. Once again it points to his hidden shame about the feminine nature of his chosen domain. “Look!” He demands, “this is a real kitchen where real work takes place. This is no domestic womanly zone. No, this is a battleground: a culinary amphitheatre where only those with the most massively oversized balls shall prevail”. Pathetic.
And his recipes are shit. I once tried to follow one in a magazine, and, if I hadn’t been a reasonably experienced cook, I’d have been fucked. It was poorly written, vague and clearly the work of someone who is used to having an army beneath him to deal with the various preps and peelings of a busy kitchen. I think I ended up using pretty much every pan in the kitchen, my stove bristling with dangerously teetering and steaming pots. And, after all that work the results were flat and uninteresting.
I can’t imagine how anyone is meant to keep up with the nutter on the cook along. He darts and jabbers like some amphetamine fueled dervish with attention deficit disorder. Have you ever seen him being interviewed? When he’s not talking (with massive hand gestures and wildly rolling eyes) his hands and feet jig around like he’s got the DTs. What’s he running from? Who’s he trying to impress? Why does he need to constantly increase his empire? Another restaurant every week; a new show; a new book; a marathon to run; yet more children to sire: gotta be the best! GOTTA BE THE BEST!!! Christ! Can you imagine what his wife has to put up with?
Ramsey had high hopes for the efficacy of the Blessed Waters of Lourdes in curing his testicular elephantiasisAnd as for his sickening courting of the vacuous celebrity world! Urgh! It makes me feel physically ill. Have you seen the F Word? It’s an egregious display of ego massage and mutual celebrity masturbation. The whole setup is so appallingly contrived what with all the exposure-craving B-listers sat chowing down at the tables whilst the camera flirts teasingly with them. “Oh when will it be my turn to be ritually insulted by Gordon” they wonder. I’m sure if they could they’d all have their hands in the air, straining, probably being supported by the other arm so as get it just that bit higher than their peers, “ooh Gordon, Gordon! I’m over here Gordon! Ooooh please Sir, can I be next?”. What kind of ego does it take to build such a Church for your own worship? The man’s got a messiah complex!
God he’s a jerk.
Done.
Janet Street Porter struggles to come to terms with the fact that she will always be one Y chromosome short of having a truly massive pair of nads.----------------
From: Ryan
Sent: 21 November 2008 10:33
To: Richard
Subject: RE: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
Ha ha! Down with all celebrity chefs – Ramsay, Smith, Oliver, Lawson… and as for AWT and his stupid stubby little fingers. Yuck!
I have seen the F Word occasionally – I particularly despise Janet Street Porter and her search for unusual food . Camels milk is not meant to be drunk by people!! And as for dry ostrich meat, no thanks. What I find particularly amusing is the celebrity cook-off where Ramsay invariably loses to some celebrity who has cooked something like tinned macaroni cheese compared to Ramsay's overly posh, dry, too fancy “macaroni a la fromage”.
He even lost to David Blunkett, and he had to have a dog helping him find the potato peeler.
Blunkett displaying the confidence and poise possessed only by those with the biggest of bollocks.From: Richard
Sent: 21 November 2008 12:53
To: Ryan
Subject: RE: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
P.E.N.I.S.
I would like to think that even my wife – that’s right, my wife – could beat “Chef Ramsay” in a cook-off. Jeez! I once had an ostrich steak and it was the driest, most boring piece of meat in the world. Unsurprisingly my good friends X, Y and Z (“very well done please”) think that ostrich is the steak of the Gods thanks to its bland, dry homogeneity and total lack of lubricating fat or indeed flavour. Coincidentally they also think that Ramsay is one of the greatest living Englishmen and that all the other chefs on TV are “middleclass poofs, faggots and gayboys”.
Speaking of middleclass poofs, faggots and gayboys, I don’t suppose you happened to see that “What to Eat Now” program? It was cool and the dude doing it – Valentine Warner – was the best food dude I’ve seen on the box ever. I’ve never seen anyone more orgasmically enthusiastic about their scran, and the food he cooked looked thoroughly delish and no-nonsense. I recommend checking him out if he’s on the ol’ iplayer.
Valentine Warner is continuing his campaign against the hair brush.----------------
From: Ryan
Sent: 21 November 2008 13:01
To: Richard
Subject: RE: If he really likes you he might call you "Big Bollocks"
I haven't caught Valentine yet, I will be sure to check him though. Anyway, if they don’t like middle class faggots, how come they like Gordon "Posh Boy Big Bollocks" Ramsay!? He is, by his own admission, not an Englishman but a whey faced scot! I don;t know what happened to his accent though, or his haggis and fried mars bar induced greasy skin and gut.
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