Adorably supersized middle schooler Guy Fieri is as beloved for amusing catchphrases as for his many culinary achievements. Escoffier himself would no doubt agree that Guy’s “Donkey Sauce” is a true modern mother sauce. And Guy’s American Kitchen & Bar is to fine dining what Times Square is to New York.
However it may be Guy’s verbal talents for which he is most renowned.
Yet, for every bon mot such as “off the hook” and “this is money” that flow so effortlessly from Guy’s permanently sunburnt lips while he chomps deep-fried mac ‘n cheese chimichangas on Triple D, there are dozens of catchphrases that, well, didn’t catch on.
Here are a few:
“Winner, winner, burn in hell you wretched sinner.”
“Hands off the backward Ray Bans, dude. I mean it.”
“I alone am judge, jury and executioner of Flavortown.”
“Shut the f—- up. This flame shirt cost more than your m—–f—ing double wide.”
“Join me as we hit the road in search of hobos, halfwits and drifters from whom we shall build the Flavortown army.”
“Could someone hand me my defibrillator.”