the closest i've ever come to an abusive relationship.

about a month ago, my roommate dan turned me on to some life-altering tv: RAMSAY'S KITCHEN NIGHTMARES. i've never really cared for shows of the culinary ilk because i hate to cook. however, i will make an exception for this guy. he's captivating and utterly unnatural -- dan and i always chuckle over the gratuitous 'gordon-changing-into-chef-costume' scene, in which the viewer is treated to a quick peep at the wildman's furious torso, and it really serves to show that although his craggy face may look 50, his body can still KICK YOUR ASS. weirdly, though, i recently found out that gordo's only like 38. 38! all of those crags, at 38! that's what plugging lines of coke cut with pure testosterone will do to your face, i guess.

anyway, anything this guy does now, i'm there. a new, not-so-secret fantasy of mine is that maybe one day he can be my life coach and, you know...'scare me straight', or something. getting screamed at by an insane bristish dude is not something i ever thought i'd really want out of life, but man, how i would love for him to pop my eardrums with some well-directed cussing and get little flecks of hot spit on my face and maybe even bust a tiny vein in his eyeball, only to calm down and take me on a walk through some sort of courtyard and apologize more convincingly than ike turner. i'll be the first to admit that i feel kind of weird when i think about how much i love gordon ramsay, especially when he represents so many things i should despise, but i think i might have what it takes to be his personal assistant. i kind of think that he's too tough to actually have one, but i ever hear he's in the market for that sort of thing, i plan to preemptively go on anti-anxiety meds and try my damndest to get him to pick me!