Well, in honour of the first hot love of my life turning 50, I dedicate this post to Ken.
He was always such a suave guy...easily making the transition from business casual to beach ready to stalker hot:
And yet sadly, he was stuck up on that plastic bitch. He even went so far as plugs (I tried to shield him from the truth of how they looked, but I think the running and screaming *might* have tipped him off):
But alas...for every blue, effeminate ascot (I am guessing this is where my love of knitting started), I was there to make him cool again. In my childhood world of make believe, back when I still had an imagination all my own, he was the super coolest of the cool. Once, he was a paratrooper flying in to some foreign land I once heard of called USSR (take that reading program!!! I remember...) where he fought monkeys and boulders to free barbie's little sister (why was I bought the little sister for a present, but not the barbie 'vette like I wanted???? Lest you wonder why she was kidnapped by the evil monkeys and boulders). Many times he was a mountain climber who befell some horrible accident (note: I was called for lunch) only to struggle his way back up the mountain (note: dresser) to safety with only one arm and one leg (note: we had a very bad dog). But he did it.
So here's to you, Ken. I've said it before, and I will say it again, stop going for her. She is a narcissistic bitch with multiple personality disorder and severe feet issues. Find someone better. You deserve it.