Gregg Wallace

I love MasterChef. I love it in an all-consuming, unconditional kind of way. The way in which you might love your child.

It doesn’t matter that at least three times per episode Monica’s face will commence a contortionist act, and no one bats an eyelid. It doesn’t matter that half way through Michel will start to bludgeon small animals to death using only his own sense of self satisfaction, and the contestants will respond solely with intense admiration which borders on psychotic but never quite gets to the point where they pick out his eyes using a fish knife. It doesn’t even matter that the voiceover lady’s voice appears to have broken.

There is one problem with MasterChef, though. And it’s this.

Screen Shot 2013-12-01 at 13.26.09

It calls itself a ‘Gregg Wallace’.

There are many reasons why the ‘Gregg Wallace’ causes me upset, but I’ve narrowed them down into a good five.

His perfectly round head
Just look at it. It’s a perfect sphere. It glistens and gleams like a faultless diamond. Smell it and you will find it has the fresh scent of a newborn calf. Rub it, and wishes shall be granted. It is oddly mesmerising, yet absolutely not to be trusted.

“WOOOAR”
What is that noise you are doing Gregg? You are supposed to taste the food and make some sort of comment… yet you keep screeching. You’re frightening Monica. Stop it.

His choice in womenfolk
Did you know he has a child bride? He does.

His inability to pronounce the word ‘chocolate’
It’s chocolate. It’s not choc-clit. There’s no clit involved here. You’re lowering the tone with your constant talk of genitals, Gregg. This is a serious programme about serious food. Most of these dishes involve meat which comes THREE WAYS, Greg. This is high-end shit.

His love for Monica
When not courting primary school children Gregg unashamedly professes his love for Monica, right into her face at alarmingly close proximity. He tastes her food, stares lovingly into her eyes and starts bleating on about how he wants to grow old with her, take long strolls on the beach with her, produce perfectly spherical children with odd facial expressions with her. She edges away, frightened by the glare coming off of his smooth, hairless skull. He tried to lick her last time, she cannot allow that to happen again.

Screen Shot 2013-12-01 at 13.27.23

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s