The paparazzi surge. Cameras snap. Flashes dazzle. A gorgeous, long-legged woman steps free of the crush, flashing that trademark, stunning smile.
It was big news when Elle did a calendar. In those days, a calendar job was a huge deal. Not like today when just about any jumped up Neville Nobody seems to get one for doing a voiceless, two-second walk-on slot in Neighbours ten years ago. But Elle’s calendar – that was something else. I hate to think how many hours I wasted staring at those magnificent, glorious pictures on my wall – teasing me, taunting me. Oh Elle – you fiend!
We’re both Aussies.
We’re the same age.
We both have Scot’s heritage.
We’re both intelligent (well that’s my story and I’m sticking to it).
You are one of the world’s most beautiful and glamorous women, and I have been told that my left elbow is rather appealing!
So what do you reckon Elle?
What a pity that the rest of me is short, unattractive and hitting the dreaded middle age spread.
Perhaps I should just stick to the first idea and start looking for an old can of Tab.