Gordon Ramsay’s F-Word. It’s a infuriating programme isn’t it? I’ve discovered that I hate watching it… week after week after week… so why do I do it? You might say it’s a cathartic experience (although I hate the word cathartic), or you might say I’m a glutton for punishment. Either way, I found myself watching it again and recalling a time when I followed one of his bullet point recipes. It went something like this.

Egg. Beat. Toss. Chives. Burn. Throw up.

Naturally, his differed a little from mine as he didn’t have the burning and the vomiting in his, but no matter. What happened this week then? Well, read over and I’ll tell you.

Gordon, starting the programme once more with bad indie music, a shot of his man boobs and an attitude that suggests ‘rock and roll’ (although, I thought eating organic food was the new rock and roll). This week saw Gordie with some nurses, who I dare say, have handled more difficult situations that being cursed at by a pig headed chef. The nurses performed spectacularly well, with 128 guests out of 150 willing to pay. Gordon actually looked pleased when the results were announced. Wooo!

Also seen last night was Gordon going to a farmer’s show, where he took his pigs (Trinny and Susannah) to be shown off. Showing off may just be the operative word here as, whilst walking the oinkers around (with a stick and a board to act as blinkers), Gordon’s wife performed very very well. Ramsay on the other hand gooned at the crowds and acted up… thus allowing his pig to basically run off. Not that Ramsay minded… he was the centre of attention and quel surprise, he bloody loved it.

Anyway, I’m tired of talking about the show itself, lets talk more about me. Whilst watching the F Word, it’s fair to say that I didn’t really take much of it in. Not because I’m a lazy sod who has got to the point where watching TV has become too much effort, but for a very different reason. To explain, let me give you a scenario. You’re in bed. The house is silent. You’re happily drifting away and then DRIP. DRIP. Silence. DRIP. DRIP. Yep, there is an undisclosed thing in the bathroom that has started making a dripping noise. No matter how hard you try, you can hear nothing else. It’s almost like someone has put the world on mute, and amplified the drip.

OK, you’re probably wondering what the hell I’m chunnering on about, but it’s worth sticking with this. Basically, watching a programme starring Ramsay is like listening to an amplified dripping noise. How? Well, since I’ve noticed that Gordon says "Yes?" at the end of every sentence, and throws a "Auh?" in too, I can barely hear anything else. The show has now become some kind of surreal art-house flick, soundtracked by a series of ‘yes?auh?auh?auh?auh?yes?yes?auh?yes?’ noises. I can’t actually hear anything else. I can still hear them this morning. My girlfriend has just left for work and as far as I can tell she said "Yes?Auh?Auh?" Well, that’s my excuse for not putting the bins out anyway… but it’s true. Once you hear these noises by Gordon Ramsay, it’ll pretty much ruin your life. Well, maybe just your ears. [Mof Gimmers]