I've been tagged by the once beloved cassandra and since cribbing, ignoring and outright refusing to complete the tag hasn't worked here goes.
Presumably the point of this exercise is that someday prince charming or the green-golden-hearted-ear-wax-filled version of him will drop by my blog and on reading this list will promptly realize I am the woman of his dreams and then apply the Ickenham process virtually. Of course there's also a fair chance that there is absolutely no purpose to this little tagging exercise. And more importantly that any overtly suspicious prince charming trying too much waggling is likely to get a sharp kick right where it hurts. That said I should add that people with easily offended moral sensibilities should probaby hum a little tune and head for the exit, right about now.

Eight reasons why I would want to spend the rest of my life with one man :

1) He should be drop dead gorgeous. Well, maybe not drop dead but most certainly gorgeous enough to make me drop my jaw. In case anyone feels inclined to comment that beauty is only skin deep this is where I echo Pratchett, as if a man ever fell for an attractive pair of kidneys...and...They said they wanted a soulmate and helpmeet but sooner or later the list would include a skin like silk and a chest fit for a herd of cows. Going by the same rule, this fiss demands a handsome hunk.

2) Having said that I shoul clarify I'm not demanding tall, dark and handsome. Just handsome does fine. I don't even insist on add-ons like brawn and brains. A football-toned body is a wonderful thing of course and brains are terrific in blocking the direct passage of sunlight through the ears but my focus is exclusively on good looking. In fact, tall is not good. I want that comfortable sort of height where I don't have to stand on tiptoes to kiss him.

3) I'm perfectly cool with all socially defined vices, hell I don't think my perfect man would be uptight about smoking, drinking or doping but the one point where I draw the line is promiscuity. I've just met too many men who think nothing of cheating on their girlfriends/wives and while I'm not self-righteous or pompous enough to take it on myself to sit in judgement over them since this is an idealistic list of perfect values and what not, trust is important. And fidelity.

4) More importantly though, he shouldn't play golf. This is a dead no. Primarily because I don't play golf. And anyone who knows their Wodehouse will know that if only one half of a couple plays golf the relationship is pretty much doomed to being ended by the entry of some beautiful young damsel who has a handicap of 18.

5) Going by the same rule, he shouldn't be a poet. Actually that's not as important as the corollary to the point; he should never ever ever accuse *me* of writing poetry. I can happily endure accusations of murder, treachery and stealing my best friend's boyfriend(s) but not even the Spanish Inquisition could get me to confess to writing poetry. Especially related to a) angst b) depression c) love d) nature umm, the list is endless. Point is I don't do poetry. And I most certainly wouldn't do a poet.

6) He shouldn't be a millionaire.Or a billionaire. They're too boring, and they attract far too many dependent and/or conniving relatives and damsels in distress and svelte model types.

7) He should be sufficiently challenged visually to insist that I look good. He should stick to this basic simple plot line irrespective of what I'm wearing. It doesn't matter if I'm in a sari and looking like it's all going to fall off any second or if I'm vibrant in red pants if the man is to be described as perfect I demand that he should be perfect at the little white lies which make a fiss so happy.

8) And since I was obviously saving the best and most important point for the last, listen in carefully. This is like the defining criterion. Points one to seven can go hang themselves but any man who doesn't fit this point is obviously not the right man for me. Basically. He should be a good, no, an excellent gardener. If he can't mange those plantations I keep planning to plant I honestly don't think it's going to work.

hmm...I actually managed eight points. Anyone who's interested, go ahead and tag yourself please. And anyone who fits the bill, hehe, you know where to find me. Or conversely if I hear of anyone who's perfect, I might just hunt him down...