(Click to enlarge fabulousness!)
I‘m not ashamed to admit that Bo Bice makes my old ticker skip a beat..
I am, however, ashamed to admit that I would leave my husband for him. Well, not really. Maybe. Depends on how tidy he is...
If Bo doesn’t win American Idol tonight, I shall cry a million tears, then console myself with decadent fantasies that involve me, Bo, a case of champagne, P.J.’s vacuum cleaner, and a brand new sponge mop.
Oh, the indignations of encroaching middle age. It's stealing my groove, y'all.
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