Bee-yotch: Ryan Scott Stings Amuse-Biatch in Fresno Bee

As you are no doubt all too aware, possums, the last seven days have been an unceasing dirge, an expression of mourning for our inconsistent, self-avowed “metrosexual,” and Little Mozart of the Fryolator, Mr. Ryan Scott.

Encased, as he was, in the aspic of his own smarm, he was a sitting target, and we will miss him. Oh how we’ll miss him!

It appears, however, that he won’t miss us.

According to The Fresno Bee:

[Ryan] Scott was more curt when asked about amuse-biatch.blogspot.com, a blog that skewers all “Top Chef” contestants.

“You’ve got to have something better to do with your time than that,” Scott says.

Oh, Ryan, possum, we’re hurt, even—dare we say it—hoit.

How odd, and yet how apt, that it should have been your pretty-boy predecessor in loquacious smarm, last season’s Brian Malarkey, who leveled the same charges only last year. And we say unto you, as we said unto him, “We do have better things to do (and we do them); it’s just that we enjoy doing this.” As you yourself might have said, we don’t just blog with our hands; we blog with our heartlessness.

Mind you, we haven’t been as heartless as we could. We received some very interesting correspondence from people very close to you that we refrained from publishing. We have also resisted spinning out your narrative arc as a tale about the revenge of chicken, for it was chicken (piccata) that first brought you national disgrace, and chicken (thighs on a bed of bread) that got you kicked off the show. Did you see a single “When the Chicken Piccata Comes Home to Roost” headline from us? No.

Moments after Padma pykkagged you, you said, with a little poached pear of a sob in your throat, “What this show brought me was cooking, yes, and what it does is it humbles you and teaches you that, you know, it’s, like, wow, I'm not the shit, so, thank you.” But did we do a post about your Pauline conversion titled, “Turd Discovers He’s Not the Shit”? No. And yet this is how you treat us.

But just as our sorrow threatened to overwhelm us, we listened once again to your final words on the show: “This personally changed my life, so it’s gonna change the way I cook. It’s the way I look at an ingredient, but it's not gonna change me, Ryan Scott, as a person.”

Does that mean you’ll still be the vain, smarmy, inconsistent, prevaricating self-avowed “metrosexual” Ryan Scott we know and love?

In that case, possums, we will stop weeping into our gnocchi-soft pillow and face the new day, for though this may be our last Ryan Scott post for a very long time (as you no doubt will appreciate, possums), lo he is risen and will smarm again.