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?
Olivia’s billionaire hubby Steve’s turned out to be a root rat. Not only that, but with a podiatrist! Will she leave him? Will she get her feet done? And will Rose find love through her ad in the paper – or just another tattooed man with a plumbers’ crack.
I’ve done it!
What???? Left him? You ROCK! Serves the fucker right!
No of course not, don’t be silly!
I’ve joined the local branch of the Liberal party. Steve is very supportive actually – although I can’t help suspecting it is only because it will leave him with more free time to pursue his ‘interests’ – but Victoria complains bitterly, as she feels her family merely exist to prop up a corrupt plutocracy. I have to admit she’s very like I was myself at that age, in that regard. She says if I have to ‘get involved’, why can’t I join the Greens, as at least they are quite ‘cool’ (except for the local Greens candidate, Gareth Fry, who is ‘hot’).
Oh. Whatever. You go girl! I bet you’ll be an asset (literally). You know what, I’ve always wondered what Liberals are really like. Do you reckon they really believe their own crap or are they just in it for the money?
What money? You do know that most right wing politicians are already successful businessmen, they LOSE money going into politics, darling.
Oh by the way, did you get any applications from lonely rock gods? I hear Mick Jagger’s free at the moment.
Don’t you laugh! I’m doing alright. No sex yet but who knows, who friggin knows, right?
Nah you’re right, Mick’s busy. But – I’ve been out every night this week – course I rang mum and told her I was much too busy to call in and see her and that cheered her up no end. She doesn’t mind if she doesn’t see me for dust as long as it’s for a good cause – like, men.
Do tell! I hope you’re being reasonably discriminating.
Fuck that. So let’s see – on Friday arvo I went out for coffee with a nice young man from the country, all fresh-faced and like, check-shirted. Apparently there aren’t any single girls available in Coonabarabran or Warrawarrabegun or whatever and he says all he wants is an easygoing, simple kind of chick, I mean lady, with curves. So that’s me. I got curves! I got curves where other people have got straights.
It was one of those awkward things though. Like “I guess you get a lot of drought down your way then..”, “Yeah, that’s right.” “So, um…how are the sheep taking it all..?” “Could be worse.” “Yeah? How’s that?” (that’s me trying to look interested) “Yeah I guess. Floods are worse.” “Oh yeah right I guess they must be.. fuck what’s the time I must be going!”.
Dunno about you but I don’t like country people. I don’t mind eating chickens but farmers, they kill cows with their bare hands and then they laugh at you for not knowing where your meat comes from. Screw that.
And then, oh yeah, on Friday night I went for a drink with a Wiccan. You know, I always thought Wiccans must be all women, cause it’s all about the Great Mother Goddess, but I guess they have to have the odd bloke along, representing the devil at meetings and all that. Wouldn’t be much fun otherwise would it. You’d have thought though the blokes would have to be feminists cause otherwise the other witches would kick them out, wouldn’t you? But THIS guy turns up in a blue singlet and stubbies with tatts of naked mermaids on his biceps and lets drop he had to smack his ex girlfriend around a bit to keep her in line.
‘Mate, you’ve gotta be kidding.’
‘She liked it’ says Tattoo-Man. ‘So when can you and me get together? Cause there’s definitely a vacancy right now, if you know what I mean.’
Then Saturday I went out for dinner with a guy who said he modelled for calendars. Turned out he was Mr July 1976 but I can’t really blame him, I was pretty hot twenty years ago hey! We were dining al fresco and he kept watching the cars going past and pointing out his favourite ones like “Hey will you look at that, that’s a 1962 Mazda convertible, they only made 6000 of them!” and “Look at the chick driving that Hilux, bet she has hairy armpits and nipple rings.’
Pretty weird. Like, here’s me.
“So, you divorced? Single? Widowed?”
“Ahhh, yeah.” (him) “Separated. Me girlfriend had this thing with her uterus?”
“Yeah? What kind of thing?” (what the fuck is a uterus anyway? Sometimes wish I’d paid more attention to those diagrams in high school?)
“Well she had, you know, a cyst or something, and she had to have it taken out, and she was real sick for months – said she couldn’t have sex, cause it hurt? So what was I supposed to do!”
“I dunno. What?”
It’s like talking to taxi drivers. You ask them to take you to the airport, next thing you’re finding out about their mother in law’s gallbladder.
“Well I said, this isn’t going to work, I’ve got needs. So get your shit together girl, I said, or I’m out of here. We’re finished, I told her.”
“And did she? Get her shit together?”
“Nah, we split up.”
“So, having much luck with the ladies?” I kind of thought maybe not.
“Oh yeah, well I go see this lady in Tuggeranong, she’s a sex worker – but, like, she really likes what I do. See my specialty is going DOWN? She REALLY likes it, she wants me to stay after the hour’s up so I can, like, really make her scream? I’m the best lover she’s ever had, she says. What do yer think about that?”
Liv, if you’re ever stumped for something to say, just say wow, gets them every time. Anyway I didn’t have to say much else cause just then he saw a really eye catching BMW with diplomatic plates, and then he said he desperately needed to drop a load, and where was the nearest public dunny. So I pointed them out and ran for it.
Do you reckon he really was a sex god and I just missed out on the ride of my life?
Btw did Steve really sign a contract? He must be seriously devoted to sign a thing like that. Men get off big time thinking they’re the boss – well he can’t be under any illusions now can he! I never could’ve got John to obey a set of rules like that – he would have said it made him feel like a pussy and told me to fuck off. Does Steve feel like a pussy?
Yes I believe he does feel somewhat emasculated, but I told him he was lucky it was purely psychological. But there’s nothing like a philandering husband to make a woman feel insecure. You know I USED not to even think about my looks – well, not much, only when we went out to company lunches or something like that and I’d put on a bit of powder and lipstick – and I hardly even thought about ageing – only to the extent of buying a few anti-wrinkle potions and they never made any difference – but I didn’t really CARE then.
But NOW! I keep looking at myself in the mirror and thinking, oh my god Olivia, you are NOT twenty five any more. SHE by the way is thirty two, so my friend said – the one who told me about the clippings. Only Chinese women don’t age as we Australians do, which makes it all worse.
By the way, do you know anything about Botox? Everyone seems to be having it nowadays. Of course, now that you’re on the market again you’ll probably be considering something of the kind, because it’s really a war out there and we’re not spring chickens any more – I mean, what is it LIKE being single and mature. You never know, I might be in the same boat soon.
I don’t know much about Botox. Seems to be the great moral challenge of our times. I mean, if you could click your fingers and be ten years younger and with bigger lips and a cute little nose, wouldn’t you? But when it means going to some ‘clinic’ where the women all wear white coats and really thick makeup, and you get needles stuck in your face, that’s when you really have to think about your principles isn’t it. I wouldn’t do it just to please a man but why the fuck else would you do it?
On the other hand – yeah, I’d rather be single and twenty five! Only when I was twenty five I wasn’t nearly so good at it, being single that is. I take rejection better nowadays. You have to, you get really used to it.
I wouldn’t worry too much about old Steve, it’s probably all talk. You know what they say, the last embers of a dying flame. I think they all go through a stage where they want to run off to south east Asia where the women love you long time and aren’t too fussy – but they’re usually too lazy to organize their own plane tickets. Also he’d miss you and Vickie heaps. He dotes on her still doesn’t he? And, you know, if he signed that thing, he must be pretty damn committed – really.
He signed it because he was scared I’d take Victoria and three quarters of the joint assets. He’s pretty committed to those assets!