While in New York, Iris and I were highly entertained by a muffin shop called Connecticut Muffin. It’s only in NYC and did not, as far as I can tell, originate in Connecticut, which leads me to believe that I should open a muffin shop called Alberta Muffin. Or that this is my porn star name. Or something.
Anyway, one morning I got up early and brought back actual muffins from Connecticut Muffin. They were not any better than the average Starbucks muffin, but oddly this didn’t sour us on the place at all, and we wrote them this jingle:
If anyone from Connecticut Muffin is reading this: we will sell you this jingle at a bargain price, with the caveat that we kind of stole part of the tune from “American Woman,” so you’ll probably get sued by Burton Cummings.