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My fascination with stalking celebrities goes back to when I was just a child. Some actor shoved a camera out of his face and used an angry slur and said something about the paparazzi's mom, and I thought this was brilliant. You have this star, glorified beyond all belief to the point where he's like a giant; then he looks down at one of the insistent ants around his feet and screams You little prick!. That just amazed me, that a guy with a camera who nobody even remembers the name of could get this famous person to cuss at him like they were on the same level. That was a turning point for me, when I decided that I wanted to be a gnat buzzing around celebrities and making them say really stupid things.

My other fascination is with, of course, sauces. I grew up in a poor household with me mum, and most of the time we could barely even afford meat. Rather than just feed me dry bread with butter or cheese, my mom used to make sauces to soak the bread in. Spicy sauces, sweet sauces, tangy sauces; my mom could do wondrous things with a sauce pan, spices, and cheap ingredients bought at the local Safeway. It might not have been the most filling of meals, but it was something I always looked forward to. My love of sauces stems from those days, where a simple piece of bread could be turned into a banquet of flavors.

So how did these two loves of mine merge? It happened thanks to The Food Network. Miss Paula Deen was serving up an artery clogging Thanksgiving special, and she coated the food with her homemade bacon and cranberry gravy. Now, gravy is just another type of sauce in my book; so I thought I could improve upon Miss Deen's recipe. So, taking my mom's sauce pans out of storage, I cooked up a sweet potato sauce that is absolutely to die for; and my days of celebrity stalkerdom began. Every chance I could, I'd attempt to get the staff of Paula Deen's Best Dishes to try my sauces. I've obtained over 5 restraining orders, including from the show's producers, and have been blacklisted from all Food Network studios. My greatest accomplishment was getting Miss Paula Deen herself to shout Get that greasy slop out of my face! once outside an Atlanta restaurant. However, those days were shattered this past summer due to an incident; and it is was a blow to me. Miss Paula Deen's career received a major blemish, and it was not caused by an angry outburst at me for shoving my sauce in her face.

Since then, I have been listless, spending my days on the couch eating store bought sauce and scouring Youtube for cat videos. It was during this time that I first encountered a video by meat marionette Jim Sterling, where he talked about how he got a video game company to go apeshit at him after he published a review. Imagine, the titans of industry, lowering themselves to his level to write an angry e-mail at some nobody who makes videos about said industry. Then I discovered that Mister Sterling isn't some nobody, he became internet famous talking on camera and annoying people who do things in the industry he follows. I was starstruck instantly; this man, this couchadonis; became mildly famous annoying other mildly famous people in the video game industry.  Now, I know a bit about the video games; I had a cousin who had a Sega Nintendo and I got to play the Sonicy Hedgehogs and the Puck-Man. So since I had some money leftover from my settlement with Gary Busey; I immediately went to my local Walmart and purchased an X-Box to feel closer to my beluga god, Jim Sterling. I quickly got into the Halo and the Call of Duty, because making a polygonal thing shoot other polygonal things on the TV is rather fun. However, I had still felt empty, incomplete. I'd look up at the restraining orders framed above my couch, and sigh wistfully as I remember my glory days of stalking celebrities and their staff and getting them to say awful things at me.

Then the The Dismal Jesters happened. I had never watched a podity cast before, so I put on my headphones and listened in to the elixir of sounds that poured directly into my ears. The majesty of Jim Sterling, exuding his haggis imbued words over the airwaves; and that's when I heard him speak those three magical words, Lieutenant Saucy Portions.  After I got done listening, Jim Sterling's disembodied head spoke to me, telling me that this is my destiny. I am Lieutenant Saucy Portions, I realize that now. My place is here, on The Dismal Jesters, buzzing in the ears of the cast, that fly they just can't seem to squash; spreading my saucy goodness over them like a stranger's dish at the local Applebee's.

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