There’s a female weather forecaster who really knows how to charm me.
And the strength of these warm feelings is beginning to alarm me,
|Keeley looking lovely|
but, although she is quite lovely too,
it isn’t Keeley Donovan.
(Hope you're not too disappointed Keeley...you're probably my No2!)
|Helen certainly knows her arse from her anticyclone|
I love her in the morning when the Sun begins to shine
I love her in the afternoon although it isn’t fine
I love her in the evening when the breeze is soft and balmy
And, although she really knows her stuff,
it isn’t Helen Willets.
(You're smart, Helen, just not my type...)
|Isobel, oh Isobel...|
I haven’t had a crush like this or felt this sort of pang
since I was left bereft of love by the gorgeous Isobel Lang.
For when the storm’s about to hit there’s only one who’ll calm me
but, although she is a stunner, too,
|There's something about Laura... gales.|
it isn’t Laura Tobin.
(Isobel, oh Isobel...)
|Wendy Hurrell... check out youtube|
Don’t get me wrong, by other weather girls I’m not annoyed.
Wendy Hurrell has a friendly look, as does Sian Lloyd.
|Steady, Sian, steady!|
But when the forecast is severe, my fantasy must star me
with the focus of my lust
not Liam bleeding Dutton
|Liam Dutton... 'nuff said.|
(No offence, Liam, but... well...)
I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in expressing such a “whoop”
My brother, too, I see has joined an appreciative facebook group
where men like us can fantasise and drive each other barmy
with talk of dreams and wedding plans,
of dinner dates and baby scans,
of how we’d like to just hold hands
with Lucy Verasamy.
|Definitely breezy, hot and "on the coool side"|