I Specifically Love Elvis
I love Elvis and Elvis loves me. Atleast that's what he whispered to me last night. He said “Babe”, in his deep talking voice, “Babe why do you specifically love me?”.
“Specifically?”, I asked confused.
'Aha ha, aha, yeah baby”.
“Well”, I said, “I love the way you move your body”.
“My movements, ma'am, are all leg movements. I don't do nothing with my body”.
“Yes, but I do love those moves... I love the fact you can charm your way out of awkward situations. You turn it into a happening. Just some time passing by. You're not polished like an iPod, you're just another human being”.
“Darling, what's an iPod?”.
“Oh nothing to be concerned about. Let me think... naturally I love your music and the way it can give you a boost or a moment to yourself. You can lose yourself in the melody that's so distinctive for it's time. I love how you're approachable, yet so far away. You're on a statue. Everyone can take pictures of you, touch you or even make small talk. However I believe that there's a layer beneath it all. An Elvis that's like Elvis, but not quite. I love how you're unforgettable. Someone who's printed in your mind. From time to time this image will fade, but unnoticeably it will pop up again and gives you another impression of the same person and...” a not that flattering snore approaches my ear. Elvis has left the building, but I don't mind because I loooooooooove Elvis.