Adam Richman, who sort of looks like a butch Betty Rubble (or a femmed-up Rosie O’Donnell), was once a shameless food whore who hosted a bunch of TV shows about violently cramming as much meat into his mouth hole as possible. He was basically the Kim Kardashian of the food world. Mouth-fucking every food-pile he could get his hands on eventually caught up with him, and he started to look like something that fell from Jabba the Hutt’s greasy asshole. So he started trading smoked pork milkshakes for green smoothies and he lost 70 pounds (or two of Guy Fieri’s Cheesecake Challenges).
To celebrate his weight loss, he posted a picture of his skinny self to Instagram with the hashtag #thinspiration. Several women tried to inform Adam that #thinspiration is a tag most commonly used in a not-right pro-ana way to describe thigh gaps and bikini bridges, and I guess cutting greasy piles of cheese out of your diet decreases the amount of oxygen delivered to your brain, because the host of Man V. Food turned Instagram into an episode of Angry Prick V. Ladies.
He responded by informing them that he didn’t give a fuck, called one a “fool” and a “cunt”, telling another to “grab a razor blade and draw a bath”, and another that her father fucked up by choosing “to go without a condom”, then instructing her to “eat a bag of shit”. Adam’s boss, The Travel Channel, only likes it when Adam eats shit, so they pulled his newest show Man Finds Food and replaced it with stock footage of a raccoon digging through the trash for scraps. The Washington Post says that Adam responded to The Travel Channel by hissing out an apology to GMA this morning that said:
“I’ve long struggled with my body image and have worked very hard to achieve a healthy weight. I’m incredibly sorry to everyone I’ve hurt.”
It doesn’t matter if your brain has turned into a dehydrated raisin from eating nothing but dried kale farts and water-flavoured water, a cunt is a cunt, and Adam is a hickory-smoked slow-cooked fall-off-the-bone BBQ cunt. Maybe if he’d eaten those delicious-looking donuts he wouldn’t be such an angry asshole. Donuts solve everything. Yes, you might get a raging case of Type 2, but it’s impossible to be a hateful bag of dicks when a giant clump of deep-fried sugar is giving your heart a never-ending hug.