There was an old house in the forest...

There was an old house in the forest...

And an old witch was living there...

I had sense enough to not mess with any witch that they wouldn't take in the old witch home. I also wasn't about to give up a prime squatter's opportunity. I decided to harvest eye

goop from Gwyneth Paltrow. Her PR team were a little apprehensive at first, but the prospect of an old witch hexing them was convincing enough to push it through the mainstream.

"Okay, how about this approach," said Shemp, the ad writer, "Please buy this Gwyneth Paltrow face crap, or we'll be hexed by a witch!" The PR team frowned. "Too actual," they said.

"Maybe pull the reins back a bit on riding the Gwyneth Paltrow and ride the goofy name. Goop. Poog spelled backwards." They looked at Shemp like he was the new guy. "My Vagina!"

There was a pause as everyone waited for a snowflake to pipe up. “My vagina has a first name, it’s G W E N Y T H, my vagina has a last name, it’s P A L T R O W.” That’s when Gwen

stood up, claimed she had the airs and left the room. The next day they heard back that My Vagina was a go but absolutely no jingos for it were authorized. Oscar Meyer would sue.

Thinking the whole matter settled Gwenyth Paltrow went on a epicurean adventure in the Carpathian Mountains. My Vagina was selling well. Then they tried marketing My Colon for men.

Given the coincidence in names, they attempted to use Colonel Sanders as their mascot. Let's just say, that didn't go over well with people sensitive to chicken grease. Oh well.