Posts Tagged ‘Paige Spiranac


Happy Birthday, Paige Spiranac


A belated wish for a happy birthday to the lovely Paige Spiranac who turned…  [I’ll be old-fashioned discreet about a woman’s age.  Though it is such a special year for her (hint).  And, I’m posting this two days late.]

One of the prettiest golfers and blondes I’ve ever seen and an astrological match that blows (or challenges) the mind.  I might just be slightly above or below par for the course.  But, she’s more dazzling than any eagle.  And, I wood be awed to meet the iron woman.




Dear Paige Spiranac



Are you a fashion phenom or a pro golfer? Either way, you’ve caught my eye. You sure know how to fill a pair of jeans, not to mention boots and a white tank top.  [But, the “selfie” obsession is mildly concerning.  In fact, you may be too busy teasing men and looking at yourself to notice any of this.]

I am a bit conflicted. Your astrology could be responsible. On one hand, your planets hit so many bells and whistles (with my own chart), my ears are ringing. Even your name is a bundle of fun. On the other, there’s a sharp beak and a fluctuating ego waiting to wound me in the hen house. I can almost guarantee we’d not only set the barn roof on fire but burn the neighborhood down. But, there’s also a chance one of us would die in the blaze. [Some safety measures are in order (for when irreconcilable differences arise).]

I’ve noticed many models are quite tall and thin. You are not quite either. You’re above average height and packing plenty of curves. And, unlike many models, you have better fashion sense. Isn’t that amazing? They go out of their way to look the way they do and sport some of the weirdest fashions out there.  Yet, here you are, with photos featuring a variety of good looks. It’s hard to find a fashion failure. [I will say this: Never wear a fabric color too close to your skin tone. And, peach/coral may not be your color.]

I’m a bit particular about blondes. You seem to be that perfect blend of dark roots with buttery goodness on top. Please tell me it’s all natural and not treated. And, as for those eyeglasses you sport so well.  Do you really need them or are you playing a part? [Cuz they are playing with my mind, Superwoman.]

I am not a golf fan, at all. [Unless you count mini golf and golf video games which can be amusing.] But, if you like superheroes/comic books, especially Iron Man, well, we need to talk. [No, I will never be Stark Naked. But, I do have something in common with Tony.] Have you ever attended a superhero costume party/convention?

There’s just one fantasy I guess you cannot fulfill. It’s kind of a big one. [My lips are up here, darling.]

In short, if you are not otherwise engaged, send a letter my way.

Now, without further ado, I present a rendition of Roxette’s “(She’s Got) The Look,” a late 80s tune that came to mind whilst admiring you.  [Yea, the song existed before you were born.  How about that.]




Soft, creamy hair.
A powerful stare.
Blue eyes on fire.
‘Make your heart perspire.
Built like a live wire.
She’s got the look.


Knows how to handle a club.
She’s a golfer, bub.
With an iron in her hand,
She’s the Iron Woman, Stan,
A dream for a comic fan.
Paige has the look.


She’s got the look.
Paige has the look!
She’s got the look.
Paige has the looook!
What in the world can this artist ever do
To get himself sitting right next to you?
And, I shout, “Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha?”
She’s got the look.


Dark brows, nice lips.
Not to mention those hips.
A fine five-foot-six.
She’s not walking on sticks.
A water hen with an Aries fix.
Paige has the look.


Her name is a game.
Her wardrobe is the same.
A pair of sexy glasses
Can make their own passes.
A fairway model for the masses.
She’s got the look.


And, I go, “P.S., I, uh, hwuh……”


Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha! Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha! Ah-blah-nah-nah-hah!

Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha! Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha-wha!
She’s got the look.
And, I go, “Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha! Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha! Ah-blah-nah

-nah-hah! Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha! Ah-blah-nah-hah-wha-wha!””
Paige has the look.


And, I crow, “Cock-a-doodle-ooh-yah!”
You’ve got the look.  [But, don’t let it go to your head.]



What in the world can this artist ever do
To dance himself right in step with you?
And, I shout, “Oo-la-la-la-la!”
P.S., don’t be a stranger.



Writingbolt, 6-9-2016