A Tale of Two Women and their Push Up Bras
In a country not that far away, at a time not very long ago, a nerd with time on her hands hacked into the email accounts of two well-known women. She passed the shocking results on to a friend..who passed them on to a friend…who published them on this blog. Can you guess who these women are?
THE STORY SO FAR….(Chapters One to Four)
Rose is newly single and life couldn’t be better. Really. Meanwhile, Olivia’s marriage is as solid as..as solid as…something that’s really really solid. Everything is just peachy in the land of Rose and Oliviah…except for little Vicky.
Did you know, Rosie, apparently there’s a worldwide shortage of single men. Except in China. Steve says you might want to get yourself an absorbing hobby. Apparently you’re more likely to get kidnapped by terrorists!
Don’t take it to heart though. I expect there are some very eligible terrorists out there.
Yeah well don’t think I didn’t think about that before I jumped. You can’t go into a newsagent without tripping over some crap about how scary it is to be single and female and over forty these days. Plus there must be fucking hundreds of manuals about how to pull. But you know Liv sometimes it’s better to have no man than one you can’t stand much – anyway, even if I don’t get any sex for the rest of my life, it’ll be more than I had with John in the last three years. Well, almost.
But aren’t you lonely now you’re single again? I expect that’s what keeps most married couples together for so long – so what if you come home every day to a pain in the bottom, at least he’s a pain in YOUR bottom, and it’s better than talking to the fridge door. Though I sometimes wonder.
Who me – lonely? Like I told you, I’ve had it with men. If I never see another hairy ball sack in my life I’ll die happy. Men. Who needs em!
Really? Oh come on!
Ok yeah sure I do feel a bit lonely sometimes. My mum – you remember mum, well she’s just the same, only wrinklier and crankier – anyway she keeps saying “All alone on a Saturday night?” when I go round there so I don’t, much. But it’s not like there’s anywhere else to go. So I sit home and watch dvds and tell myself isn’t it great I can watch whatever I fucking like with nothing on except a singlet and men’s pyjama pants, eating chips and choccies. Ok, sometimes it’s not that great.
I’m not sorry I left John all the same but.
It’s a blessing you and John never had any children – although of course I shouldn’t really be saying that. Only I know you never wanted any, so it’s alright, isn’t it? Divorce is so hard on children, all the studies say so. Although Victoria says Steve and I should think about separating because it is embarrassing being the only one in her class who doesn’t come from a broken home.
Who me, want kids? Guess you didn’t know, John and me have been trying for years. IVF, the works.
Oh I’m terribly sorry, I should never have said that. I am so sorry, I had no idea!
Just kidding. Ha ha!
Yeah, it’s just as well. Actually I did see some show on tv with all these children of divorced parents saying how fucked up they all were and how they wished their parents had stayed together and thought of THEM for a change. I say get a life. What’s with kids these days, they expect their parents to do all the housework, get pay tv so they can watch the Disney channel, pay their I-phone bills and then they want you to sacrifice your whole romantic life to motherhood as well! Divorce is just a natural part of life, get used to it. Like having your mum yell at you in the mall and pick you up from school in her ugg boots. We survived didn’t we?
Come to think of it though isn’t it fantastic that you and Steve stayed together all these years. Didn’t I say, if you lasted out all those fights about controlled crying you’d be alright, you know.
Well, yes. Absolutely. We’re as solid as, well, I don’t know, government bonds or something.
Although it’s not so easy, with Victoria. Sometimes I wish we could just turn her into that awful toddler again. At least we usually knew where she was!
What? She’s not one of those kids the cops pick up at 2am trying to get into some sleazy nightclub, is she? Not little Vickie?
No, well, not quite that bad, YET. But I can’t say Victoria has turned out quite as we would have hoped. I can’t recall if I mentioned it but, since her figure developed, she has acquired this awful boyfriend called Julian, who seems to just about live here. They are in eternal love, apparently. Last week he carved her initials in his arm – I don’t suppose his mother gives him pocket money to afford a REAL tattoo. Victoria thought it was dreadfully romantic and was thinking of doing the same, but I told her she would probably just end up looking like ‘Emo’ cousin Julia after her cutting episodes and she said she would wait till she had saved enough for a proper professional tattooist and then have Julian’s portrait inscribed on both her buttocks.
The two of them spend all their spare time locked in her bedroom whispering and sniggering and god knows what else! I told Victoria she has to leave the door open – and just in case. I said if I caught them French kissing Julian would have to go straight home to his mother. Yes that’s right, single parent family! No wonder he doesn’t wash his hair and writes poetry!
There you go again, slagging off the working class.
So she DOES know about the birds and the bees right? Mind you when my mother told me about that I couldn’t work out why there weren’t any little bee-birds around, if they were having cross-species sex all the time. Catholic education!
I have tried to open the subject, but she says “Mu-um, don’t be totally gross, we don’t do stuff like that, we’re just making out, that’s all!” Making out – what’s that when it’s at home!
She says the ‘life education’ classes at school turned her completely off anything of that nature, particularly the close up film footage of genitals and nasty rashes. I never thought I would agree that explicit sex education in our schools was a good thing – until now, when I can see that it has had quite a salutary effect.
Thank christ for life education classes! We didn’t even know how many holes we had, when we were that age. Or at least, you didn’t, I had to tell you, remember – and you didn’t believe me and then your mum caught you trying to check it out and said you were a dirty little slut and made you sterilize the hand mirror with Dettol?
Don’t over react mate. She’s probably not doing what you think she’s doing. Probably they just whinge to each other about how hard it is to be a teenager these days and how parents aren’t what they used to be. But maybe just in case you should tell that Julian if Vickie gets preggers or anything Steve will make him marry her straight off. Tell him about your rellies in Lebanon.
It’s worse than you think. Since I forbade them to shut the door, I’ve discovered she is climbing out her window at night to go and canoodle with him outside the local supermarket – so Westside Story! And the things she wears! Tiny little mini-skirts that barely cover her underwear, and tops that look like brassieres! If she’s hoping to look like a prostitute all I can say is she’s succeeding perfectly.
And who knows what else she gets up to!
Relax. That’s what they all wear these days. I wish I could get away with shit like that. Put a lock on the window or something, I know, buy a Pomeranian. My friend has one and anytime anybody makes a move it yips its head off like you wouldn’t believe.
All the same I can’t believe she’s climbing out of windows to hang around with boys – not little Vickie! God she’s not a bit like you is she. You were such a little tightass!
Not an epithet that could be applied to YOU, my dear.
I’ve forbidden her to leave the house at night. If she does, I have told her I will ask her father to pick her up from school wearing bike shorts and his All You Need is Love medallion. “Oh you wouldn’t! That would be SO tight!” I told her I would and if necessary I might escalate to wearing a boob tube and a flip skirt. I’m calling it ‘creative parenting’.
OUR parents never had to worry about this sort of thing!
Well sure but it’s all about opportunity isn’t it? When we were teens it was kind of hard to break out? Like drugs and smoking. I mean, there was that time the crossing man offered you a fag and said you had nice legs – but Mr Jones the maths teacher saw him do it and he was sacked the next day, so nothing doing there. And we didn’t even know who our local drug dealer was. My sister’s kids already know who theirs is, it’s the six year old kid with three unemployed big brothers who grow weed in their bathroom.
And as for slutting it up, there weren’t all the music videos telling you how it’s done for a start. We used to go on about sluts and slags and whores like we knew what we were talking about but what did we know – nothing!
Mind you as soon as I did know what a slut was I wanted to be one. I reckon everybody should get tarty at least once in their life, we’re not going to be able to put it around much in the nursing home.
Very true, but that’s not the sort of attitude I want to inculcate in Victoria.
No really, we’re very worried. Suppose she DOES become sexually active? Suppose she starts to smoke weed? Or she starts to keep company with the wrong sort of person? I mean, it begins with hanging about at the supermarket at nine o’clock chatting up boys, but where will it end? King’s Cross?
I don’t know, I don’t feel as if I can control anything at the moment! Victoria won’t do as she’s told and neither will Steve, and who am I to tell anybody what to do anyway – just a middle aged unemployed, what did you used to call me – champagne mum!
How do you mean Steve won’t do what he’s told? I thought you had his balls tied up to your handbag.
Oh, nothing. I told you, there’s nothing wrong with OUR marriage. I mean, of course we have our little disagreements from time to time, who doesn’t!
But you know, I DON’T want to be one of those custodial grandparents one hears about, who get left with the baby while the errant child joins a rock group in Byron Bay. If you know what I mean.
OTHERWISE, I’m perfectly happy. Absolutely peachy, darling!