Why’d it have to be Owen Wilson?

Friends, I’m 63 years old. Post-menopausal. Almost out to pasture. 😉

Last night though, I had the damnedest dream about a steamy (and I do mean STEAMY) romp with Owen Wilson.

The two of us couldn’t keep our hands off one another. I’m blushing even as I write about it.

The question is “why him?” I mean, he’s adorable and goofy, and a Texan to boot, but I’ve never even entertained a mildly romantic fantasy about Owen, let alone a full-blown x-rated one. Now, Huey Lewis is a totally different, and age appropriate, matter.

The heart of rock and roll is still beating, you know.

Peace, people.