Just saw the video of Rupert Murdoch getting hit in the face with the pie. He is a genius. If anyone believes that he wasn't behind that stunt then you are not as jaded as I am. And then, of course, his adopted Chinese granddaughter, I mean wife, literally leapt to his defense. The cameras captured her bravery and immediately the media turned all attention to her. Well played Rupee, may I call you Rupee? Or is that only in India? You are a media genius. You pegged it. Poor Rupert, and his lovely wife....who is she wearing? Murdoch 1 Media 0.
Got me thinking about those May-one foot in the grave romances. And even those May-December romances. The husbands at least twice the age of the wives. The men rich and powerful, the wives as gorgeous as a model or movie star and frequently are. They are the perfect canvas for the plastic surgery they will be getting later in life in an attempt to hold on to their husbands.
I wonder how those wedding vows are written? Do the happy couples write their own vows?
"Barbie, I promise to show you off, have sex with you so I can have more children to carry on my name. I will cut the older children out of my will leaving you and our children everything. I never had time to be "dad" to them anyway. You will be the caretaker of the trust funds established for our progeny. I will pay for your future plastic surgery. With this 2 million dollar, pink, square cut, 6 carat, platinum set, diamond ring I thee wed."
"Geezer, I promise to, ew, sleep with you once and then under go invitro fertilization to have your spoiled children. The girl we will name "Queen" and the boy "President". I promise to give you the best nursing home care a billionaire can have. You will only wear the finest adult diapers, custom made by Versace. I will try not to flaunt my affairs, ala Anna Nicole, until after you are cold in your grave. Or just in your grave as you are already cold. I will not hide your walker just to watch you fall down. Buy your own ring...I thee wed".
Ahhh, love. It is inspiring.
Do you suspect that Donald Trump has the Miss Universe Pageant to select his next wife? Maybe not. Maybe he thinks those girls need "scholarships" and the fact that they are drop dead gorgeous in a bikini is simply beside the point. And they wave beautifully. Slowly, between the pearls and the crown.
My favorite was when he defended Miss Some State after she, oops, didn't know she had been photographed, in a studio, with her tatas blowing in the fan. That happens to me all the time. I accidentally stand there in full make up and great lighting and accidentally release the girls for a photo shoot. Damn it! Again?
Then of course, in addition to being gorgeous in a bikini they have to answer a question. "If you were a tree, would kind of tree would you be?" Smiling beautifully and putting on a sincere face Beauty says, "world peace".
You poor girls married to gramps. Do you have calendars where you mark off the days he is still alive and then place a gold star on the day he dies? Do you sometimes wonder how long you would have to hold the pillow on his face before he is limp? Do you girls have a support group where you discuss the issues that come with being married to an octogenarian who happens to be a mogul. "Girls, today we need to discuss hiding the Viagra. Mercy, the old fart got it up again! Can't have that. Took me three days at the spa to get the disgust off my face!" "Poor Mrs. Richer than God, I had that problem once and I just put salt peter in his warm milk at night, and a little Xanax". "Thank you, Muffi, you have just saved me". "Next week we will discuss which nationality cleans up the best when hubby doesn't make it to the toilet."
Hurl.
You're welcome,
Lillybell Blues
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