Andrean sweetness...

For quite a while now I have been in love with Andrea Corr, and I could not be more serious.
Last night, after watching the concert DVD of The Corrs – Live in London, well, I had a dream that Andrea and I sort of lived on this remote island. No other human beings ever inhabited this place, and this did not seem to bother me one bit. Our days consisted of pretty much a whole bunch of swimming and reading books and looking at each other. We lived on coconuts and Corona. Well, I drank lots of Corona and she just sipped some sort of girl drink, the kind with the little umbrellas in them.
Occasionally, a helicopter would hover past, real low, and drop down more supplies.
Well, in my dream, just after one of these fly-pasts, I crack open a fresh crate of booze and booze-related items, and I’m going to mix up a little drinkskie-poo for her, but just as I turn towards her, I set down my copy of Catullus I had been reading aloud to her, set it down on the little table between us, and dang it all if I don’t knock over our last little bucket of ice.... right into the sand. I am ready to kill myself, sort of like.
This ice was essential.
But (I swear I am not making this up at all) she runs her hands through her hair (just like she is doing here in the picture) and she assures me... she says, in her sweetest of all voices in the world... “Aww. It’s OK. Just that I am with you is all that matters to me.”
Then.... just when I was tearing my pillow to shreds, and my one eyebrow was raised in Andrean sweetness.... I woke up because my cat Jack was throwing up into my one shoe over there by the door and he was doing it real loud, like.
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