I love you, baby.
I love your Jennifer hair, Chanel smell, Bottega Veneta box clutch, Helmut Lang molded alligator cuff, Lynn Ban brooch, Pucci print sun hat, Dior Motard sunglasses, Hermès scarf, YSL Rive Gauche by Tom Ford jacket, Daslu tank top, Armstrong wristband, Prada belt, Lucky jeans, Manolo shoes and Tara 'tude.
I love you, baby.
I love the highlights in your hair, the surprised arc of your sculpted brows, the placidity of your botoxed forehead, the depths of your darkly shadowed eyes, the puffy pout of your collagenned ruby red lips, the blinding reflection of your capped pearly-whites, the perky tilt of your new nose, the inviting bulge of your silicon chest, the elegance of your tipped nails and the daring of the barbed wire tattoo running round your right ankle.
Baby, I love you!
You missed out "fake tan", or is that too obvious? Anyway, that chould churely be "Chanel scent" rather than "smell".
Posted by: stephenesque | February 14, 2005 at 10:24 AM
I don't know, I rather like the "Chanel smell" rhyme, and the diction matches well with the nouveau-riche prolo vibe.
ER
Posted by: Desiderius Erasmus | February 14, 2005 at 01:29 PM
Ah, at last it dawns on me why i have no valentine!
I've got 364 days to get my labels in order for next year.
Posted by: NatCat | February 14, 2005 at 02:21 PM