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?
Rose is starting to get lonely for a man – so she’s put an ad in the lonely hearts section for a ‘rock god or nearest offer’.
I’m not fucking rebelling!
Steve says that you might have better luck with men if you take up dog walking – instead of going to dinner parties for couples and so on. You do still have a dog, don’t you? It worked in 101 Dalmatians.
About that ad of yours – what exactly do you mean by ‘wild’, by the way? As in, the kind of person who throws daisies at politicians and wears long white smock dresses? – or just as in, ‘often drunk in public places and possessing poor decision-making capacity’?
Oh you know what I mean! Wild. Up for a good time. Like all the things I wasn’t allowed to be when I was married to that boring old fart. Not having to plan for months before I go on a dirty weekend, not having to run every bloody thing through mum’s life-o-meter – ‘Is it appropriate dear? Does he respect you? Is it really you?’ Damn right it is!
Oh yeah and not having to go round in below-the-knee skirts and long blouses with all the buttons up cause I don’t want to look like mutton dressed as lamb, well who SAYS I don’t wanna look like it!
And well yeah, basically getting pissed in public places and bad decision making….what you said.
So you’re rebelling. Isn’t it a bit late in the day for that kind of thing? Your mother can’t tell you what to do any more, there’s no need to live your life according to her rules, you know. You’re a big girl now!
If we weren’t such good mates from way back I’d come right over there and kick your arse! I’m not bloody well rebelling!
Ok I take your point. What I’m getting at, Liv baby, is that I’ve done the boring, average, respectable guy thing. I’ve been married. I don’t want another nice guy, I want a guy who’s super hot, revved up, pheromones coming out his ears, oh yeah and he’s gotta want to have sex at least five times a day! Makes out in car parks, way too busy playing guitar riffs to shave, looks a bit like the guys on the cover of Harlequin Desire, only more chest hair and a huge donger and he’s always up for it. Get the picture? Only I don’t want to marry him. I just want to lie there and get done, to be honest. Anything wrong with that?
Nothing whatsoever. You don’t think this dream man might be slightly out of your league, I suppose?
Fuck you! Stop pissing on my fantasy, bitch!
Yeah guess you’re right, all I’ll get is nerdy music teachers and would-be rock gods.
Look, this is my last chance! I bet there’s a law somewhere that says you just aren’t allowed to do any wild stuff when you’re past 50. So, like, five more years. Think about it.
There’s no point in ME thinking about it. After all, here I am, happily married mother of one. I have MY life perfectly under control.
I think you’re definitely having a mid-life crisis, Rose. If you were still married, you’d probably be thinking about having another baby, round about now. You’re not, are you?
Come on get real! Wasn’t there ever some time when you wanted life to be different? But how can you be different when you’re stuck with some fucker who expects you to be just the same as you were when he signed up – at least, the same as he thought you were. Like, I can just see John turning up at the complaints department, ‘It doesn’t say anything about that in the installation guide, what do you mean the warranty ran out ten years ago! I thought it was a lifetime guarantee!’ Screw that!
Anyway it’s not like I didn’t try to make it work. In the early days I made him go out to clubs and bars and live gigs, you know? He just moped around and said he had a headache and could we go home please, and weren’t my legs cold in that skirt.
What’s happened to me, Liv? How did I get so fucking boring and respectable?
You? Respectable? Come ON! Well I must say he should have known. After all when he met you, you were drunk and promiscuous – and I mean that in the nicest possible way, darling.
Anyway you know there was – a time when I wanted to be something different. A millionaire’s wife. And now I am. I can hardly complain can I! Lots of people would just love to be me. All I have to do all day is go shopping for clothes, and get my hair done, and catch up with other women who go shopping and get their hair done! So, well, there we are!
I’ve been thinking, do you reckon I’ll be alone for the rest of my life now? It didn’t seem so bad when I left, I was so glad to get away – but now I’m starting to get worried I’ll be one of those chicks other women feel sorry for and their husbands say ‘what she needs is a good nailing’ . You know what I mean?
I’m not sorry I got divorced but – it feels so secure when you’re married. Like having investment properties on the gold coast. I wish I was you sometimes.
It’s funny, I could have had Steve you know. If I tried. But he’s better with you. I wish I could make something last! I’m a fucking failure. I hate my life. I want a man. I want sex. Why do you have to be so rich and happy and I’m not? Sorry I didn’t mean that just rambling don’t take any notice of me and yeah I did drink a whole bottle of Baileys before I wrote this. Still there’s no law against writing emails when you’re pissed right?
Rose, you’re not seriously jealous of ME. Moi! Well darling I have got news for you. The way you carry on about how lovely everything must be in my life is starting to become really irritating. Let me tell you, it’s no Paradise. It’s not that easy having money!
It’s not that easy having money! WTF! If you wanna get rid of it I know just what you should do, honey!
Anyway whaddya mean you’re not happy? You’ve been telling me for the last month how many damn presents Steve buys you and how you go out to dinner at the best bloody restaurants and buy designer dresses and all that shit.
So looks pretty much like Paradise to me.
Just because one has managed to make one’s marriage last twenty years without mishap, doesn’t mean one has ENJOYED oneself. Necessarily. It simply means that I am determined to make it work. I don’t see anything wrong with divorce but I don’t want to have one. We made our vows and I am going to keep mine. Marriage is no picnic.
Well fine. I’m not trying to get you to break your bloody vows. I’m sorry I said that about Steve, I didn’t mean it. But I always thought you were just fine. You kept saying how good it was!
Well surprise surprise, it’s not! Not always. Marriages aren’t, are they.
Yes but at least you’re married, you and Steve are pretty solid, he’s rich, you’re gorgeous and – well actually Liv you’ve got it pretty good really. Come on just admit it.
You have no idea what my life is like! I get so depressed some days, I just want to weep! I think, how did things get this way? Why am I doing this!