Wherefore Art Thou Bobby Sherman?

Dear Cheryl Tiegs:

It's me again, forever the faithful fan of you and Summer Blonde by Clairol (although at this age I've had to resort to the professional stuff and let my hairdresser do the heavy "lifting" to get that sun-kissed look.)  I hope you are doing well today.  In my imagination you're still skipping down the beach in that famous pink bikini while the likes of guys like Moondoggie and Bobby Sherman are falling all over themselves just itching to hoist you aloft like some life-sized Barbie doll.  Work it honey, because in this blog you won't have a single wrinkle and those pesky spider veins won't ever appear in the city limits of the Malibu that's in my mind.  You're safe here, Cheryl, I've got your back (now if I only had those long legs!)

About this weight loss gig that I've taken up. You know, the one I told you about in my last blog where I needed to lose 90 pounds to get back down to my lowest high school weight that I can remember? You know, so I can create my OWN Cheryl Tiegs kind of Summer Blonde commercial because I absolutely adored you in yours where the cute guys were holding you up like some freshly-cut pine tree in the lumberjack Olympics?  Now you remember.  Well, I've lost a whole pound since we last "spoke" so I've just got 89 more to go.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I know it's too early to start looking for 4 or 5 cute young guys who'd be willing (or persuaded for a fee) to hoist me up like some prized heifer at the County Fair but I'm a pound closer than I was when I last blogged.

One whole pound...I'm nothing if not optimistic.  Are my bifocals lying or is that Bobby Sherman way down at the end of the beach looking my way?  Just 89 more pounds, Cheryl, just 89 more pounds...oh yes, and the pony tail is still a project in the works, more like a pony's thumb.  I've been sweatin' like a field hand today while I cleaned out the basement but I didn't take the scissors to it even though I wanted to.  I just kept thinking "what would Cheryl do?"  I figure what you'd do is pay someone to clean out the basement while you and your beautiful hair sat on the couch upstairs and read movie magazines but unfortunately that is where my fantasy and cold, hard reality slapped each other like two divas fighting over a cocktail dress at a two-for-one sale.

Bobby Sherman, please see if you can dial up Moondoggie on the hot line and tell him that mama's comin in 89 more pounds.  And Cheryl, keep that hair swishin' and stay perky!

Sincerely, your biggest fan (and I do mean your biggest fan)
Modine Gunch

See Yoo in Mala-Boo