Oh dear God and those in whom He/She/Undecided sails (note the deferential capitalisation. Though quite how you can be deferential to a figment of retarded people’s imaginations is quite beyond us)… what the fuck’s this? It’s certainly not butter, that’s for sho’.
What it is, is, one of the greatest comedy actresses of our/any time, Megan Mullally off-of Karen Walker off-of Will & Grace off-of should be on the National Curriculum so help. Us. Santa. Advertising ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter’, in a land far, far away from prying eyes. Except that ain’t gonna happen anymore, what with that there interdolly and its penchant for spreading things, the mucky bastard.
Now, the only problem with getting Megan Mullally to advertise your shite, is that she can’t do the Karen Walker thing. It’s copyrighted, or something. The voice, the mannerisms, the endearing cuntiness, the Karen Walker. So what you get is, well, Megan Mullally. Which is quite j’adorable but what we really want, at least when being sold a substitute for butter, is Karen Walker. And preferably that butter substitute served on an English muffin, alongside an ‘Mmmm, cimmanom’ flavoured cappuccino at Café Jacque’s. Maybe Beverley Leslie will pop by, maybe he won’t. We’ll laugh, we’ll cry, we’ll laugh some more… perhaps we’ll bum.
Either way… no, that’s it. Jeeze Louise!
See for yourself after ‘the break’, which we’re trying to copyright as we speak. We’ll be rich beyond our wildest dreams! Or not.