Men With Butterscotch Accents

I stooped once to dating a man with an accent, a beautiful man, with a beautiful Australian accent, did I mention he could sing like a dream. He had me at hello. I am a sucker for tall, dark, handsome, and an accent. Too bad he was about as intelligent as my microwave. We dated, mostly just went to karaoke so I could listen to him sing and preen at his accent. It did not matter what he said it was the WAY he said it. Of course it was a bit annoying when any woman within hearing distance responded the exact same way my traitorous body did, as if life on earth seized to exist and the only thing that mattered was this wonderful gorgeous man with this wonderful gorgeous voice. This man could be talking about anything, he could be describing how he did laundry, or picked lice out of his dogs ear but in my mind I could only hear him speaking of wonderful vacations and expensive Champaign, I knew from the start that this relationship was not going to work but some primal part of my person was desperate to throw my panties at him. I resisted the urge and kept my dignity. I will now insert crochet hooks in my ears until they bleed so this does not happen again.