Feet is an acquired taste

It's always been a recurring ambition of mine to host a cooking show. Having been raised on the food network- sara moulten, emeril, rachel ray, guy fieri... my nannies - anyway- the whole premise just sort of feels like one of those perfect jobs you can't quite place. It has always seemed to me the ultimate culmination of my interests. I'm a performer. check. I have an unhealthy preoccupation with food. check. I love kitchens. check. I could also enjoy polishing a marketable image to win over the hearts and bellies of couch potatoes everywhere who will buy my cookbooks not for the recipes but the unique cover art and awesome food photography. check.

Ina Garten lives the life, man. She walks around barefoot in her pristine kitchen, inviting over her publisher, photographer, designer, and musician friends, makes this awesome food which I'm sure she doesn't have to clean up after all is said and done. She's a contessa. Then on top of it all she has this beautiful property and money pouring in through every crevice.

I waaant.

The only obstacles interfering with my TV chef aspirations are:
A. My lack of culinary skills/ experience.
B. My foot-in-mouth disease.

A can be solved over time I believe. I'm pretty sure Julia Child didn't start her cooking career until later in life. I'm still young (technically), and unlike the violin or the piano, there may still be hope for a young adult such as myself to achieve some level of mastery in the kitchen.

B, well, I don't know if that can be solved. I consider myself lucky on the off chance my rambles carry an air of coherence, but otherwise, I can recall many incidences that left me kicking myself weeks, even months afterward. There are some childhood memories of word vomit that have only recently buried themselves past my reach, and I am grateful for that. If I had to be recorded, especially while engaging in an activity that to some matters more than the banter, I'm afraid the added ingredient of my tongue might spoil any meal and/or episode.

On the other hand, that could be my gimmick. Just be too cute for anyone to care. Awww, John just went on a 5 minute stint about body odor, isn't that precious? What did he make? Oh, a grilled cheese? Well, I bet it's great.