Floats like a butterfly, STING like a bee

Everyone has someone that they admire from afar. For hubby, it's Elle McPherson. My mother loves Cary Grant. Me? I love Sting. Not that horrid wrestling guy -- the original hottie Sting.

I've loved him since his days with The Police, with his wild 80s blond hair. Loved watching him descend the steps whilst entering a solo concert in Tampa, back in the days BC (before children). I think I may have even yelled "I'll have your baby" to him whilst at a concert at Verizon, here in Indianapolis.

Yeah, I love the guy. But what's not to love? He's intelligent, well read, articulate, talented, and he has an accent. Prolly has an ego bigger than my house, but hey, I'd just like to prop him up in the corner and stare at him.

Yep, I love him. Kinda put him on the back burner, till The Police opened the Grammys. Sting has been doing his workouts, and looked downright HOT. And hey, if you ever read his interview about Tantric yoga well, let's just say, a woman could really appreciate a guy like him.

Hubby knows that, should Sting ever knock on our front door, that hubby would be shoved out the back door so fast his head would spin. And he's cool with that -- probably because he knows that Sting isn't about to leave his castle in England, just to come here to Irvington. His loss.

And so, in honor of My Man Sting, here's a cute yellow and black rockabilly dress, coming to you from Bebopdiva Vintage, a seller with some seriously cute stuff, on ebay.