Editors’ Note: You know, it’s hard thinking of snarky commentary every day, so we’ve opened up the labor pool to our fellow food bloggers.
This week we’ve asked our Food Network watching buddies to play a friendly game of Fuck, Marry, Kill. For those of you unfamiliar, you are given three things and must decide which one to fuck, marry and kill.
It’s summer, okay, give us a break. We’ll return to serious food matters soon enough.
Sandra – Fuck. I can picture the tablescape now.
Bobby – Marry. I almost married a guy friend in college so we could do the Peace Corp together. I’m not above it. If I married Bobby, I would cheat on him with all of his ex-wives, in order. Then I would sell the rights to the Made-for-TV Movie
Neelys – Kill. Actually, I don’t even have to. The way they eat, I can just sit back and watch nature do its magic. They butcher meals in a way that I’ve never seen before.
Of course you’re going to fuck the Neelys. It’d be an interesting night of saucy ribs and a sexy spice fairy… and I’m sure Gina would get involved, too.
I’d marry Bobby, since he has a high net worth and he’s already been married 4 times so we’d probably get divorced. And I wouldn’t sign a prenup.
I guess that leaves Aunt Sandy to get killed, but I’m sure she’d come back as a beautiful color-coordinated napkin ring made out of bottle caps stitched together with craft wire.