As previously discussed on this blog, Whitney and I are cousins. On a recent visit with our Grandpa, he complained that we talk about people he has never heard of and he can never tell “what the hell [we] are talking about”. So, to appease our grandpa, I chose Cary Grant as our crush of the week.
He sure is a smart-looking beau. In a perfect world, we would go steady, he would pin me, and I’d be his dame. He really is the cat’s meow. Golly gee, he really gets my motor revvin’. And best of all, he ain’t no chump and he ain’t no skirt chaser. Cary Grant is the kind of guy who would treat you like a lady. He really is the bee’s knees.
Am I talking your language, Grandpa?