Let's be a Guy Fieri restaurant!

I’m an egg

I hate him almost as much as I do Trump.

I'll be...

I'm Chipotle-Lime Dynamite Egg Rolls With Molé-Ginger Dippin' Sauce.

I'm Watermelon Margarita. I taste like a lethal combination of radiator fluid and formaldehyde.

I'm also plain, limp, unsalted squid rings served with some sweet sludge which are supposed to be Awesomely Good Rhode Island Calamari.

WWs for everyone. I laughed out loud. Is it just that easy?

Saturated

I'm Guy's Smash Mouth cocktail: one part Clairol Frost & Tip lightening solution to two parts Drakkar Noir and Massengill Extra-Strength Vinegar & Water, served in a glass rimmed with ground puka shells.

I'm a Deep Fried Mac and Cheese Poke Bowl garnished with Outrageous Truffle Oil Sriracha.

I'm a Car Bomb Mint Mudslide, with Jameson, white and green creme de menthe, chocolate vodka, Kahlua and mint chocolate chip ice cream, served in a schooner with crushed mint Oreo rim.

All he ever does is stand there and watch other people cook food and then eat it. He's a totally useless waste of space.

I’m the very strong smell of feet in the appetizers

His face reminds me of a cockroach.

I'm totally into guys who look and act like him (yeah yeah, I know) and yet he skeeves me out.

[quote]His face reminds me of a cockroach.

That's really insulting!

Heart attack is #3 on the menu.

We’re the seed oils he fries everything in.

I'm the smell, evoking odors of a Penn Station bathroom.

I'm the classy Viking appliances

I'm the grease

I'm the Donkey Sauce.

I'm the deafening noise

We're Sam & Ella.

I'm the dirty bleached spiky hair you see when Fieri drops by.

I'm the fart gas saturating the cushioned seats in the dining room.

I am the very tasteless bowling shirts he wears.

R15 Sorry. It's just something about him, that reminds me twitching feelers and wiggling mandible bits.

Love, R13

I'm a venison burger topped with applewood bacon, cheddar, feta, blue cheese coleslaw, banana pepper rings and "rockin' guac," served with a "dipper" of Guy's special Awesome Sauce.

YEE-HAW.

I'm the burgeoning suicide stats in Flavortown.

One of my favorite lines from Oh Hello was when they dubbed the Times Square restaurant "Guy Fieri's Great American Garbage Fire."

I’m the permanent vinegar smell that permeates everything because I, the owner, am a TOTAL DOUCHE.

I’m Guy Ferry. Google me.

We’re the rapidly rising insulin levels with every bite.

I’m the dessert menu. Anyone up for “Guy’s Cheesecake Challenge”? It’s “a mountain of cheesecake topped with pretzels, potato chips and hot fudge”.

No thank you.

R35 I thought you were joking but, no, it's a real thing at his Vegas restaurant

The microscope slide embedded in the cheesecake is a thoughtful touch. The coroner will want a sample.

I'm the nauseated viewer for Food Network where he's on constantly much to my general irritation.

I'm one of the dimwitted morons all over the country who flock to his shitty choke and puke restaurants because we stupidly think he's a celebrity and we consider the food this smelly hog serves is good food.

I’m the pepperoni lasagna-pizza mashup breaded, deep fried and covered in donkey sauce? Down to Flavor Town!

Never watched his show but this thread is gold!

I'm the elegant bracelet from the Guy Fieri Signature Collection sold in the gift shop

r41 indeed. I'm saving this topic's URL to post in the "how can I lose weight fast?" threads for fasting inspiration.

I'm the frozen box of Crispy Cheeseburger Ravioli Bites sold in the gift shop so that you can take a little bit of Flavortown home with you

I never watch the Food Network, but now I realize the origin of so much weird/terrible bar food in the last ten years.

I like his Diner, Drive ins and Dives show. Found some good places to eat from it.

I'm the pair of 300-pound tourists in MAGA hats wedging our way through the door of his Times Square shithole. We just toured Trump Tower and all that walking has made us super hungry. We'll be ordering the Prima Donna Pork-Belly Po-boys with Cajun Molasses Ketchup Gravy. And we will eat everything on our plates.

I am the apostrophe. I will be replacing the letter "G" throughout the menu in order to lend the restaurant some down-home plain-talkin' atmosphere. I will sooth the 300-pound tourists' fears that they may actually have to act as if they have ever left their beloved livin' rooms and make anyone with an ounce of dignity feel like killin' themselves.

I am Smothered. You know that little cartoon about not drowning your food they used to play on Saturday morning? I am the opposite of that.

I’m pig boys weenie that he keeps grabbing while he cooks.

I am the customer who mistakes Guy F. for Colin Farrell, and nearly die of shock at his obesity.

I’m all the viewers that wants Guy to no longer be on the Food Network 24/7.

I'm the Bacon Mac-N-Cheese Burger you eat right before you die of a heart attack

I’m the trashcan nachos slithering off the plate then off the table on to your lap and finally the floor.

I’m the resident cardiologist, because at Guy’s, we care.

I want someone to photoshop a dick in his mouth using the pic at R28

Does he still travel with his screaming slap- fighting hair dresser?

Sorry to break it to you, R47, but his restaurant at Times Square is no more. They'll probably have to salt the ground and bring Native American shamans to smudge it before anything else can go in there.

R58 Another reason to hate the Kushner family who owns the spot. According to the Washington Post, a restaurant has to pull in in excess of $25 million a year to be profitable in that spot. I don't see how the restaurant that replaced Guy Fieri's restaurant, The Ribbon, is going to be able to pull in enough money to pay the rent.

This review incinerated him.

Does he serve that shit in hats and shoes and shovels like them fancy eatin’ places do?

Cuz if so, then he should use toilet seat covers as napkins cuz that’s all that swill is worthy of.

He looks like a fatted pig sweating before slaughter.

The thing is, as much as I enjoyed that review, nobody who reads NYT restaurant reviews was going to eat at that slophole in the first place. And the people who would are not exactly NYT readership. Guy Fiery and his ilk are the reason why Food network is unwatchable these days (HGTV are guilty of the same charges.)

I'm the finest ingredients Sysco has to offer.

I'm Guy back in the kitchen molesting the asparagus

I'm the complementary Flowmaster thrown in with dinner parties of 8 or more people.

I'm the Crappetizer Combo: Dorito Crusted Melty Mozzarella Logs, Double D Lettuce Cups with Jicama Poutine and Maple Glazed Chicken Shrapnel, Pumpkin Spice Hummus with Cajun Crostini for dippin', Wicked Kosher Twice-Fried Char Siu Matzo Balls, Viagra-Infused Bacon-Wrapped Bacon, and Guy-talian Gnarly Gnocchi with Shart Aioli.

[quote]Double D Lettuce Cups with Jicama Poutine and Maple Glazed Chicken Shrapnel, Pumpkin Spice Hummus with Cajun Crostini for dippin'

I love you, r67.

I'm the gent's room.

I'm "fusion." I used to be fun and clever and interesting until Guy discovered me.

LOL, R67.

I'm the loaded viccysuave soup with applewood bacon crumbles and a donkey sauce swirl

I'm the Sassy Molassy Poo-teeni topped with Shredded Texan Beef Jerky with the side of Five Star Assburner Red Sauce onion rings.

r8 That was a masterpiece. Truly.

Hard pass.

This is both stomach churning and hilarious great thread

I'm the Glopsloptious Gummy Berry Goodnight Kiss Frozen Parfait Sour Pucker Surprise, served in a sundae glass and drizzled with ice cold Mocha Maple Syrup and paired with a dish of Deep Fried Guinness-Battered Oreos.

For dippin'.

R58 lmfao

I will be the vomit in the parking lot.

R75 made me laugh out loud.

Im his Orchestral level.

I’m actual food. You might as well cook me at home for all they charge for this overpriced greasy carby shit. You’re why the rest of the world rightly hates white people.

I'm the roughed-up hairdresser.

I'm before fame and fortune.

I'm the food that looks great but tastes like shit.

I'm the Awesomely Authentic Taste of New York: The Cronut Cocktail! Vanilla-adjacent vodka, honey, cream cheese and melted butter garnished with sprinkles, nitro pills and a cake pop swizzle stick. Served in a jelly-rimmed mug suitable for cradling. (Mugs available in the gift shop!)

Isn’t that how they make the pumpkin hummus, R69?

I'm a Big Phat Phuck who is the walking equivalent of a Dump Cake.

Posted sans comment mostly because it’s too early in the morning to be witty.

[quote]I'm the food that looks great

I think you have Despairtown confused with a fancy restaurant like Applebee's.

I’m the overpriced hype, just like the fat man himself.

I'm the cocaine that isn't helping him lose weight for some reason.

Hi [92]! I'm the Deep-Fried Sausage-Coated Caramel-Popcorn Ball with Jalapeno-Cheddar Pretzel Breadcrumb Stuffing served with a Tankard of Pig Milk Gravy. For dippin'.

Otherwise known as "the reason."

I cant stand to see him eat. everytime he takes a mouthful I imagine his arteries clogging up a little bit more. He isnt going to live to old age...........

I don't know whether to sue or take notes.

R95 how about both.

I'm the poorly dressed, wide-eyed, exurban family of five delighting in our sophisticated foray into Flavortown.

I'm his children Hunter, Catcher, Ryder, Banger, and Dumper.

I'm the "Coated in Panko Crumbs, Aged Parmigiano-Reggiano, Brittany Sea Salt and Sumatran Pink Peppercorns, and then Twice-Deep-Fried in Duck Fat, Served with a Worcestershire-and-Ghost-Pepper Dipping Sauce, Guy's Weddings and Funerals Special....

Tater Tots."

I'm the sweat dripping off his brow onto your food as he examines it before it gores out to you.

appropriate typo

I'm his Grindr account: "Masc. btm daddy seeks well-endowed top twink, 18 - 21".

I am the vomit in the parking lot.

I'm his real name, Gaylord Ponsonby Ferry III, abandoned and hidden away as part of a larger quest for a more masculine persona.

I'm the gunts on the customers, getting guntier.

I'm leafy green vegetables. I don't know why I'm here.

[106] to provide a bed for the bowl full of Tuna-Turkey Taco Testosterone Fantastic Fish Fondue, of course!

Can I substitute the Fully Loaded Bratwurst French Fry Nachos for that green stuff? But go light on the Old Bay...I don't like spicy food.

*I* am the vomit in the parking lot.

I'm the inspector from the health dept. giving the restaurant an F which is not on the rating chart because the filth is off the charts.

He reviewed a great little hole-in-the wall seafood restaurant on his “Diners....” show and now the place gets crammed full with overweight tourists and I can’t go anymore.

I am the teen who stole Guy's stinky fart infused Lamborghini.

...of course he has a Lamborghini...

...and rough trade...

I'm a datalounger who needs a laugh and hopes this thread will come back from the dead.

I’m the rampant, usually drunken sexual harassment that he and his managers inflict on low-level kitchen and dining room employees.

I'm Guys neck I have been hiding under his chins for at least a decade and I won't be seen ever again.

This is funniest thread in ages. I'm not a foodie, so can't contribute. But thanks guys!

[quote]needs a laugh and hopes this thread will come back from the dead.

That's what Guy's girlfriend said about his penis.

I'm ketchup. I'm a vegetable.

I'm gravy. I'm a beverage.

Gee, the kid who stole the car is really good looking. Alas, seems like a sociopath.

I'm the bits of ABC red hots in your bowl of Guy Fuego's 12 alarm chili that fell into the pot while he was muching away over the stock pot on a taping of "Triple D".

We're the billion empty calories, who finally found a home.

I'm the live electric lamp socket that does his hair.

I'm a dogeared copy of Kitchen Confidential. I'm the employee handbook.

I'm pancake syrup. I'm a post-prandial.

I am the amount of punching that his face sings out for.

I am the process known as "congealing".

I’m the Etheleyne Glycol 4-alarm smoke’n lava margarita cooler!

I'm all the food that fell off his face and down the inside of Guys shirt, 2 days later I will still be there since he never changed his clothes.

Love this thread!.

Cannot stand him and they keep giving him new programs...ugh

I'm just shocked that dirty looking pig's fame hasn't failed by now. I guess it's yet another demonstration of what lowbrow tastes so many Americans have.

I'm Guy's eyes. Due to a regrettable combination of fatness and genetics I resemble the slots in a piggy bank. Which I technically am.

I'm Guy's underpants