Her pants are the only thing falling...it's certainly not her cholesterol.

Television chefs (if you can even call her that) never cease to amaze me. Paula Dean's restaurant in Savannah is a basic Golden Corral pig trough buffet, except there's an hour wait. An hour wait for canned vegetables and poorly made biscuits. I guess morbid obesity and a labored, hyperbolized southern accent sells food whether it's good or not.

PD: "Gawd, Ya'll. This is gunna be so goood. HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! HAAAAAAA!!!! WHEW!!! Way-el, it's one of my original recipes. I call it Chatham cheese and noodles."

Audience Member: "Paula isn't that just mac and cheese?"

PD: Whyyy no dahlin. Haaaaaaa haaaaaaaaa. Woooohooooooo HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, This is southern. This is Chatham cheese and noodles. Just keep watchin' and ya'll will see...and be sure to pick up a couple of my son's and my new cookbooks...they're great for a gift for your freeinds and family."

Eating rat sh*t out of a garbage can on Abercorn Street sounds more appitizing than her recycled, ripped off recipes.