The perfect girlfriend has a high sex drive, enjoys a hearty meal and earns more than you but wants to stay at home minding the children. Likes a night out with the lads. And loves sports. A pert bottom wouldn't go astray, either.
Those are the results of a Dating.com poll of 3,000 single Englishmen who were asked to describe their dream girl.
Notwithstanding the obvious contradictions in that description, six out of 10 men said they believed she exists out there. Right. Well, then again, it was men who told us there would be a soft landing in the economy.
How true is this poll? And what do Irishwomen want in their ideal boyfriend?
When it comes to an Irishman's ideal woman, watch us when we're out. Go to any night club.
Our perfect girlfriend is anything that moves, has breasts and speaks English (with the latter being optional).
Like the English, we Irishmen do, however, want our girl to enjoy a hearty meal. Witness the many romantic couples you see in takeaways at 3am.
My point is that Irishmen's ideals are just that. Fanciful notions that disappear after a few drinks.
Irishwomen are a different matter, however. Just who is your perfect boyfriend? You want a cross between Kerry footballer Paul Galvin, Jane Austen's Mr Darcy and David McWilliams. Women want men to be strong while at the same time having oodles of empathy and intelligence.
Top of the list for Irishwomen is the rugged Galvin type. One who will forage and hunt for the breaking ball, as it were. Don't mind all this feminist nonsense about equality.
When it comes down to it, women will pick he who can provide money and security. How many beautiful women end up with some ugly fiend who drives a Porsche?
Yes, they ideally want signs of grey matter too. ''Hey horse how's it goin, what about Offaly this weekend." That outdated, rustic chat-up line will not work anymore. Women want you to be a clever clogs like David McWilliams.
"You never read anything but the bloody sports. I mean, David is soooh clever." How many poor Irishmen have been deflated by that comment from some delusional Irishwoman?
But come summer, Irishwomen change again. Now they want a veggie-loving, Green-Party-card-carrying naturalist.
This sensitive, modern Mr Darcy type loves babies and spends the summer in South America building orphanages for abandoned iguanas.
He cries at the Oprah Winfrey Show. Your friends just love him. Admittedly, you were a bit upset the time he drove over and stayed up all night with your friend Dympna when she thought there was a "burglar in the bedroom".
But the problem with this ideal is the mood swings of women.
Picture our single Irishwoman walking through Glendalough with sensitive Mr Darcy type, the two of them out protecting frogs and the environment.
Suddenly, she gets a notion that she wants Paul Galvin man. Quick as a ferret she nuzzles into the poor sensitive Mr Darcy type, biting the unfortunate's ear as she drags him into the heather. "What about the frogs?" he cries.
"Feck the frogs."
So, once again, we cannot win. Irish women do not know what they truly want.
They have ideals which they never realise. I suppose, in fairness, we all have.
My perfect girlfriend is one who will accept you. Laugh at you when you arrive in drunk pretending to be sober. Pick you up and nod sympathetically when the soccer team gets beaten. Say, "God you're the best I've ever had", as you give it your best in the bed.
Even if she is reading that McWilliams book at the same time.
Please ring me, Dympna.