(no subject)
Dear Chef Gordon Ramsay from Hell's Kitchen,
Though I'm not much for reality television, I love your show. Or, I suppose, to be more correct, I love you. You elocute profanity and mock incompetence in ways I could only dream. Teach me, Chef, teach me. To be clear, I don't mean you should teach me to cook, I can barely make a grilled cheese sandwich. But you reek of authority the way high school boys reek of Axe Body Spray, and I want that. Consider this my registration form for Badass Camp.
Yours, K
Though I'm not much for reality television, I love your show. Or, I suppose, to be more correct, I love you. You elocute profanity and mock incompetence in ways I could only dream. Teach me, Chef, teach me. To be clear, I don't mean you should teach me to cook, I can barely make a grilled cheese sandwich. But you reek of authority the way high school boys reek of Axe Body Spray, and I want that. Consider this my registration form for Badass Camp.
Yours, K