Somebody must have been on the receiving end of a misfired shot of Guy Fieri's Donkey Sauce and isn't too happy about. The food television personality and his team forgot to buy all of the web addresses that could be associated with his Times Square restaurant. Hilarity ensued.
It should really come as no shock that some troll bought GuysAmericanKitchenAndBar.com and created a menu (s)he believed worthy of the Mayor of Flavortown, and one we think deserves a revisit New York Times food critic Pete Wells.
Take for example Guy's Big Balls. A $26 plate of cheese offered with a side of wet naps for an additional $3.50.
"Snuggle up to two, four-pound Rice-A-Roni crusted mozzarella balls endangered with shaved lamb and pork and blasted with Guy's signature Cadillac Cream Sauce until dripping off the plate. Served nestled inside a tempura pickle, with a side of maximum-well-done duck skin."
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SHOW ME HOW
It's a "go big or go home" signature Guy dish, and after all who wouldn't want to hear what Wells and other Times staffers think about Guy's balls. Did you see how snarky they looked in that Page One documentary? You know, the one where they're trying to figure out what they and the rest of print media industry is going to do after spending the better part of two decades in some champagne-and-valium-induced coma pretending the Internet doesn't exist? We think perhaps the Sulzberger family, which owns the Times, can dip into their massive trove of wealth - or that of their Mexican sugar daddy Carlos Slim - and shill out a few bucks so Wells can drag former staffer and plagiarist Jayson Blair along with him for the new review. Maybe they can even bring Dick Cheney mouthpiece Judith Miller along for the ride.
These kinds of people are easy to accuse of being "East Coast Media Elites." So what better way for them to get in touch with all of those poor, poor souls in landlocked states than by digging into Football: The Meal? It's real simple: Warm, broken hamburgers served in a clear plastic bag enclosed in a larger, black trash bag, thrown at you from 40 yards.