deteriorating taste* 

Was chatting with Mei last night - excitedly telling her about my latest crush - let's call him Mr Woody. It's nothing serious. Just to keep my mind off work and all the stress that comes with it.

All in all, Mr Woody is for fun sake only. Main mata, goda hati aje. I mean, for goodness sake, he's happily married with 2 worms called children!

"Handsome, ah?" Mei asked excitingly.
"Tell me more lah!"

Well, handsome he is not. Adoi no no, way far off - can't even touch the 'h'.
Got height. Tall. About 6 feet 2.
Got bad teeth. Like derailed train.
Got messy hair. A bit like Woody Woodpecker - hence the nickname.
Got bones. Scrawny. Human guitar. Strum some strings, babee...

"Aiyo...doesn't sound so happening lah! Y'know what? Your taste has gone from bad to worst!. Your saving grace is Hugh Jackman."

"And let's not forget Mr Gary 'CSI' Dourdan!" I reminded her. Mei agreed on that note.

Yeah, I agree, my taste in men has definitely gone bad. Like rotten milk. But only if I based it from pure esthetic reasons.

Coz y'see, Mr Woody is also made of these things:
1. Gives very firm hand shake.
2. Very goofy.
3. A big man - big enough to make fun of himself.
4. Child-like at times.
5. A gentleman.
6. Got character.
7. And most importantly, he's intelligent.

Yes, give me an intellectual man over good looks anytime, anyday. It's like I would rather date Woody Allen anytime over, say, David Beckham. Over Tom Cruise. Over Hugh Jackman. Err, on second thought, maybe I should double date Woody Allen and Hugh Jackman!

Hmm. To entertain the idea of dating the 2 Woodys sounds good too! Aiyo, must have cold shower again tonite!

Anyway, if Mr Woody was not married, I would have stalked him to the aisle! Hah! Lucky for him, unlucky for me, the fact remains that he's got a ring on the finger.

Oh well.

May 13, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 1:13 am
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