Wednesday, April 02, 2008

My future husband. *swoon*

The Swedish Chef. Again. Yes, he is out of my league (and polyester), but there's always hope - isn't there?



I.e.: "Es vong-vong de-de lettuuce, en vear ges-vuur de boom-boom. Es vur de lettuuce derr-hup! *bang* Vork-bork de sallad... Ying ges-vuur de hum des voor de biggie (?), en yim de voong de boomed-boom. Es vur de voor de hup! *bang* Es vuur de bruussel sproots."

No, I might not completely understand what he's saying, but at least he's a Cordon Bleu chef (albeit taking a few shortcuts in the cooking process), which makes it all the easier for my part.

Imagine me and him... and little bork-borks running around inside the house making bruussel sproots... and with their keeken smooshers chasing after Japanese chocolate cakes like their father:



Or shooting coocoonoots...



Now how to get a hold of his phone number...



Off to use her own keeken smoosher,
Elise

2 comments:

Sminkedukkene said...

This post reminds me of those commercials with that blue "Eric flat beat" puppet. Haha! :D It's kind of like me and Snusmumrikken. :P

Elise said...

"Eric flat beat"? Never heard of the dude... :-\ Hehe, you and Snusmumrikken and me and the Swedish Chef. Yeah, that's kinda true, actually.

Except your kids would not be out of polyester, but rather be sort of "normal" with animated hair and legs and stuff.