The thing that ruined Shellac for me was this:
My old flatmate had this very questionable Bongo Vid Called "John Leslie's The Voyeur: Live in Europe Number 19" that he used to put on now and then. It wasn't that John Leslie.
There was a scene involving what I gather was meant to be some kind of high flying executive who'd hired a particularly pneumatic young assistant.
The man himself was a disugsting red-faced buzz-cutted aging Roid-Droid who looked like a condom full of walnuts when he inevitably took his clothes off. Now, he spent a good deal of the scene showing off this new hired help of his.
His accent was almost impenetrable, his grammar patchy at the very best and he had a similar way of delivering lines as Samo Hung in that one where he's a copper in The States.
He'd kinda show off her various bits and dribble "Shih is..theBESS...t. This...myFriend...is...TheBESSt oh..my God you nice ..ba-bih?"
That kinda thing.
Anyways, in a horribly predictable plot she ends up gobbing off this awful man in a scene reminiscent of a reluctant labrador eating hot chips, with all the requisite gurglings and squelchings turned up to 11.
at this point our protagonist makes uninterrupted eye-contact with the camera and repeats over and over again the words "She Like...She Like", his pronounciation getting more laboured and loud with every repetition until it's "Shelllaaac...Shellaaaaac...Shelllaaaaaac...Shelllllllaaaaaaac"
And THAT's what I think of every time Shellac are mentioned.