Not the funny kind. The eating kind. I was reading an article on how the Pubbies don't think his remarks were all that remarkable, and I thought to myself, "That is one buttery-looking ****".
Even if I don't decide to eat him based on the obvious fear for my cholesterol, he still might be good for other culinary endeavors. I might invite him over right before I grease the pans for some blueberry muffins. Some sixth sense tells me he might even want to stay till I'm done baking, but then he'd probably insist I use cherries or raspeberries instead. Pushy *******.