worst sounding sushi roll at guy fieri's southern bbq & california style sushi restaurant tex wasabi's

oh jesus

CALL ME DONKEY SAUCE

SO WE EAT ON, OLIVES IN THE FRIED POUNDCAKE, BORNE BACK CEASELESSLY INTO THE JOHN

omg u guys

nanowrimo username: KER-SPLOOSH
password: fieri

has been created

MRS. DALLOWAY SAID SHE WOULD BUY THE SPICY BURRITO PEPPER JACK CHICKEN BLASTERS HERSELF

hahahahahaha dude YES

A SCREAMING COMES ACROSS TEX WASABI'S. IT HAS HAPPENED BEFORE, BUT THERE IS NOTHING TO COMPARE IT TO NOW.

HIS BELLY WAS CHURNING LIKE MAD AND YES I SAID I'D FART I SAID YES I WILL YES

it is a truth universally acknowledged that a gringo in possession of a sushi roll must be in want of some pepperjack.

why are you so good at this alfred it's unsettling

Fieri, light of my life, fire in my colon. My sin, my salami. Fi-e-ri: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three licks down the truffle fry to tap, at three, on the teeth.

ahem

SO WE EAT ON, OLIVES IN THE FRIED POUNDCAKE, BORNE BACK CEASELESSLY INTO THE JOHN

― the little prince of inane false binary hype (Alfred, Lord Sotosyn), Wednesday, November 14, 2012 5:00 PM (3 minutes ago) Bookmark Flag Post Permalink

almost did a coca-cola spit-take onto my laptop

Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendia was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover donkey sauce.

your mrs. dalloway one made me lol too, que! alfred is just extra-gross with it.

xp lol

STATELY, PLUMP GUY FIERI CAME TO THE STAIRHEAD, BEARING A BOWL OF PEPPER JACK - ilxors knee deep in guy fieri nanowrimo project

I AM SEATED IN A CHAIN RESTAURANT, SURROUNDED BY HEADS AND JALAPENO POPPERS. MY POSTURE IS CONSCIOUSLY CONGRUENT TO THE SHAPE OF MY VINYL BOOTH.

Fried broccoli-balls have flown their Arcs, smear'd the Sides of Outhouses, as of Guys, carried o-rings away into the brisk Wind off Hudson

Guy fried cheese today. Or maybe yesterday, I don't know.

omg

alfred i already have heart troubles

For a long time, I let Fieri bread my sushi in donkey sauce batter early.

ONE SUMMER AFTERNOON MRS BEVERLY (REDACTED) CAME HOME FROM A TUPPERWARE PARTY WHOSE HOSTESS HAD PUT TOO MUCH PEPPERJACK IN THE SUSHI TO FIND THAT SHE, BEVERLY (REDACTED), HAD BEEN NAMED EXECUTOR, OR SHE SUPPOSED EXECUTRIX, OF THE ESTATE OF ONE GUY FIERI, A CALIFORNIA DONKEY SAUCE MOGUL WHO HAD ONCE LOST TWO MILLION DOLLARS IN HIS SPARE TIME BUT STILL HAD HAM NUMEROUS AND TANGLED ENOUGH TO MAKE THE JOB OF SORTING IT ALL OUT MORE THAN HONORARY.

He had already chosen the title of the book, after much thought: The Fry-o-lation of the Primitive Tourists of the Lower Intestine.

guys we can bind this and call it The Book of Hells

STATELY, PLUMP GUY FIERI CAME TO THE STAIRHEAD

^ next level

Under certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as taking a painful crap after consuming a Big Bird on Fire.

goddammit i was just trying to come up with a portrait onr

henry james is convulsing in his grave btw

it was the best of threads, it was the worst of threads

it was the best of threads, it was the worst of threads

He waited, Guy Fieri, for his father to come in, but he kept him unconscionably, and there were moments at which he showed himself, nude and covered in glistening pork fat, a penis positively pale with the irritation that had brought him to the point of coming on a pile of mozzarella sticks.

Mr. Guy Fieri ate with relish the deep-fried inner organs of beasts and fowls, w/ kickin donkey sauce & a side of mac-daddi-roni salad.

^^^^ YES

I should've been an english major

I should've been a food runner at Fieri's joint.

the business card scene from american psycho could use more donkey sauce HINT HINT

Fieri turned, with sudden, livid rage, toward the burger. He shook his fist. He seemed about to deliver a philippic.

"Donkey Sauce--"

The red sun was pasted in the sky like a wheel of pepper jack.

Something about how much donkier Bobby Flay's sauce is compared to FIeri's, and how Fieri can't for the life of him get a reservation at Donkia.

He was an old man who sat alone in a booth at Tex Wasabi's and he had gone eighty-four days now without ordering a dirty magazine roll.

The sky above Tex Wasabi's was the color of television, tuned to the Food Network.

"It's not like I'm eating," Guy heard someone say, as he shouldered his way through the crowd around the door of Tex's. "It's like my body's developed this massive pepper jack deficiency."

dying, again

“Someone must have slathered Josef K in donkey sauce, for one morning, without having done anything truly wrong, he was working in Tex Wasabi's kitchen.”

When he woke in Johnny Garlic's in the dark of the night he'd reach out to touch Guy sleeping beside him. Sushi fried beyond friedness and the sauce more donkey each one than what had gone before.

Assuming every one on this thread saw the Guy Fieri/Matthew McCoughney Food Network special, but if not just a taste of the greatest TV ever:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NKxfbRpEPu8&feature=relmfu

bongos, brah.

bon-gos.

can i just say how much better that clip is, and it's perfect to begin with, with prince's "it's gonna be a beautiful night" playing behind it.

I took advantage of being at tex wasabi's to chow down on a plate of
garlic-margarita-lasagna-poppers. They were nachos but tex wasabi's called them garlic-margarita-lasagna-poppers. Yes, on
this occasion I laid in a considerable store. I distributed them
equally between my four pockets, and sucked them turn and turn
about. This raised a problem which I first solved in the following
way. I had say sixteen garlic-margarita-lasagna-poppers, four in each of my four pockets these
being the two pockets of my trousers and the two pockets of my
greatcoat. Taking a garlic-margarita-lasagna-popper from the right pocket of my greatcoat, and
putting it in my mouth, I replaced it in the right pocket of my
greatcoat by a garlic-margarita-lasagna-popper from the right pocket of my trousers, which I
replaced by a garlic-margarita-lasagna-popper from the left pocket of my trousers, which I
replaced by a garlic-margarita-lasagna-popper from the left pocket of my greatcoat, which I
replaced by the garlic-margarita-lasagna-popper which was in my mouth, as soon as I had
finished sucking it. Thus there were still four garlic-margarita-lasagna-poppers in each of my
four pockets, but not quite the same garlic-margarita-lasagna-poppers. And when the desire to
suck took hold of me again, I drew again on the right pocket of my
greatcoat, certain of not taking the same garlic-margarita-lasagna-popper as the last time.