CommercialClack – Gordon Ramsay? Woot!

Tara: Woot!

Michael: Huh, buoy. Here we go. Where did you dig up this little gem, Tara? Isn’t it just going to excessively feed your Gordon Ramsay obsession? I’m not certain bantering about it is going to do you any good in light of that little NorthHampstead restraining order debacle of late. Let’s keep that in the back of our minds, all right?

Tara:   First of all, let me make something clear. The restraining order simply states I can’t go back to, um … the entire country of England anymore. It says nothing about “writing” about my Gordon. Not at all.  So let’s get to it!!

Michael: You know, Frank’s rather jumpy in the commercial, isn’t he? You can’t really blame him. Seems like you can’t go anywhere without seeing Ramsay’s  name on something.  With such familiarity breeds the notion of unlimited power … and with unlimited power comes strange thoughts. For example, the notion one might be able to do anything, anything. Like, say … scare the bejeebers out of an unsuspecting cook in his own kitchen? With a menacing knife!

Tara: I think Frank’s an idiot. If I turned around from making, say, my famous chicken meatloaf and saw Gordon Ramsay standing there? You’d hear the squeal in at least three counties. And that bit at the end? When he’s leaning over clueless Frank and chopping with his arms around him? Well, let’s just say that would do it for me! In fact, Gordon would then need that knife for his own protection, baby!

Michael: Damn, you’re scary.

Tara: The heart wants what the heart wants. What can I say?

Michael: Tara … they have laws, you know.

Tara: That’s what they told me in NorthHampstead Newfrankenshire.

Michael:  After hearing it time and again, you’d think you’d catch a clue.

Tara:  Whatever. So, hey. Do you believe in using good kitchen knives or don’t you really care about your cutlery?

Michael: I’m rather surprised at your question. Guess I haven’t mentioned it before, but I’m a knife fiend. Knives, inherently, are supposed to be sharp in order to cut things. That is law. So, yes … I’m manic about the knives I use …

Tara: You may have said something along those lines. I don’t really listen much to the things you say, ya know.

Michael: *ignores Tara, continues thought* … and the ones I swear by are Cutco knives. Best. Kitchen. Knives. Ever.

Tara: Great! Now when my Gordon reads this, he’s going to get all twirly that you’re talking about someone else’s knives. He’ll never speak to me again. Thanks for that. Thanks a lot.

Michael:   Really? You assume he’s actually going to read this … when he’s spurned you and any questions you’ve had for him during the last three conference calls you’ve been on with him? Really?

Tara: Hey! Low blow.

Michael: Hello! Reality check! The truth hurts sometimes … you know?

Tara: I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that and go on living in blissful ignorance. Oh, and possibly re-think my choice in writing partners.

Michael: The same way you’ve been “ignoring” the restraining orders? Cripes … someone needs to be grounded around here, because — when it comes to Gordon — you’re  certainly not.

Tara: Nothing wrong with the occasional escape from reality, Michael.

Michael: “Escape” … ??? Yes, nothing wrong with it. But! There’s something to be said when you’re building a luxurious two-story in your fantasy …

Tara: Don’t forget the in-ground pool with attached hot tub.

Clacked by Tara Shrodes
on Sep 23, 2011 @ 11:00 EST5EDT