Friday, January 23, 2009
I am splenderfully, totastically, absolifically and bounding fluffily bunnily in love with Caroline Morahan.
She's...she's...she's just a little bit wonderful so she is.
C'mere and I'll tell you all about her.
Did you know, quailing children will quieten and smile if she stoops and gently touches their cheek and smiles upon them? (It's like ET used to do it, only without the retractible neck and somewhat stilted vocabulary).
It's said that when Caroline Morahan sings in the shower, the birds outside her window stop their chorus to listen, but they get frustrated because as winged creatures they can't applaud properly at the end. So they chitter and poo excitedly on her car instead, and then feel all dirty and inadequate, but they still come back for more.
I'm sure you all know about the famous poet who thought it the stuff of high compliment to describe a woman as the Sunday in every week, and I never met the Planter's Daughter in question but if she was all that, then Caroline Morahan is a whole month of Sundays because she's 31 times nicer than any other woman in the world and that's a fact.
Some of my closest friends are reindeers you know, and none of them are as doe-eyed as Caroline Morahan.
I secretly watched the RTE fashion show Off the Rails just so I could see what Caroline Morahan was wearing that week. The time they did a section on what the best jeans were for flattering your arse I almost fainted because it was basically a genteel form of porn from where I was sitting and besides, I defy anyone to manufacture a pair of jeans that curvaceous and wonderful Caroline Morahan doesn't look good in.
When we dance together, as someday we surely will, Caroline will glide with a light, fluid grace while I'll be like a dressage horse playing Twister, but my comic haplessness will only endear me to her all the more. The same will apply when we recreate eroticpottery scenes from the film Ghost.
Listen, do new parents ever bring a baby into your office to show to all the ladies, and when the infant does something cute, all the simultaneous 'AWWWWWWs' in the air sounds like 68 vacuum cleaners all switching off at once? I am similarly awwwwwww struck by Caroline alright, but she never ever turns me off.
The first time Caroline Morahan comes over to stay, as someday she surely will, she will wear one of my shirts to bed and keep it on all of the next day as she pads about the house being lovely. She'll be looking at me from under her eyes and calling me a 'bold scamp' and hitting me with the cushions to stop me tickling her and making her all weak at the knees. Our life would in fact be a series of such cute movie montages, with click this! as the soundtrack.
Yea, I'd roll naked through a mile of broken glass and back again for the hell of it, just for the privilege of picking some stray lettuce out of her flawless smile. I'd be performing a service and getting a keepsake at the same time and who knows, maybe in time that lettuce would grow whole again and then I could eat it myself.
But snort! Do you know what the the really good thing is? We all know that she'll consider me quite the catch.
Call me, babe!