No sooner was Jenny on the flight to Perth, Australia, than Veronica was on the phone inviting herself round. She wanted to cry on my shoulder.
The limo screeched to a halt and the flawless supermodel rushed inside, ignoring the shouts from the paparazzi.
"God, I hate being a model" she moaned, sprawling on the sofa in her skin-tight crimson minidress. "People see it as glamorous, but it's just f***ing hard work from start to finish. Everyone thinks they own you, you're just a money-spinning product they all want to get their sweaty hands on."
I opened the champagne and poured her a generous glass. She knocked it back and rested her tantalising feet on the Laura Ashley cushions.
"I work 15-hour shifts without a break, I have to be polite to those surly, impersonal photographers, I'm always being pushed for nude shoots, I'm expected to be a permanent size zero, I'm sent halfway round the world without a second to see the sights, I spend hours on end purging every last spot and pubic hair, and then I have to read all the lying gossip in the media. I've had it up to here, I can tell you."
"Give it a rest, sweetie" I said soothingly. "Would you really want to throw away all the fame and fortune and adulation just because it's a teensy bit gruelling?"
"You bet I would. Who needs fame? It's just a pain in the f***ing arse. And so's all the money. Do you know how many begging letters I get every day? So when are we going to bed?"
"V, how many times do I have to say it? I'm a happily married man and I'm also old enough to be your grandfather. Just calm down and have some more bubbly."
"Nicky, you know I'm into older men. My father never wanted me, he totally ignored me from day one. I'm always looking for the doting dad I never had. So come on, daddy, give me a good time."
Now I've locked myself in the study but Veronica's banging her fists on the door and shouting "I'm sad and blue. I'm hurting all over. Give me some loving, daddy-oh." For a moment I think, maybe it wouldn't do any harm....
Note: Jenny is on five weeks' academic business in Perth and Adelaide. I shall be joining her later!
Veronica's photo courtesy of Trinket Enterprises
Saturday, 1 November 2008
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I know how you feel, such a burden being so desired. I wish Armande would stop paying me unwanted attention, I'm trying to blog, he's insatiable . . ah . . the pain!
ReplyDeleteI love men with imagination! ;)
ReplyDeleteBaino - It's a nightmare, isn't it? I was just enjoying the peace and quiet of J not being around, and this crazy lady butts in. But I'm doing my best to shake her off.
ReplyDeleteGrannymar - Ah yes, where would we be without imagination? One of life's greatest pleasures.
you've fell off the wagon again did't ya?!
ReplyDeleteQuicky - Not at all, we're consuming champagne around the clock. Luckily Voluptua's footing the bill on her expenses.
ReplyDeleteLove it Nick!
ReplyDeleteThat's V's just an old slapper, tell her you deserve better and give her the heave ho lol.
Hulla
xx
And I am watching you from Oz, Nick, courtesy of the magic interweb! So behave!!
ReplyDeleteHulla - I'm not brutal enough to give her the push, I'm just an old softie. And let's face it, all that juicy gossip about Naomi and Kate is hard to give up.
ReplyDeleteJenny - Drat, this insidious interweb is everywhere. There's no hiding place. Voluptua and I are just good friends, honest.
Oh that Vollie-girl, Nick. Always waiting for the next opportunity to harass and torment you, her timing is impeccable.
ReplyDeleteMaybe she's angling for a trip to Oz?
I'd put her to good use with a lot of housework and cooking.
XO
WWW
www - Housework and cooking, what a great idea. Mind you, she's probably forgotten how, she's left all that to her domestic staff for years. No way is she coming to Oz, I'll give her a fictitious address in Alice Springs.
ReplyDeleteYou shouldn't eat cheese before going to bed ;)
ReplyDeleteKate - Excellent advice. I'll pass it on to Voluptua, it might make her less frisky. Oh, you meant me....
ReplyDeleteChampagne is the road to ruination - be warned :-)
ReplyDeleteConor - Oh no it isn't, it's the elixir of the gods (hic). And it puts a nice rosy glow on everything. Even the paparazzi seem like lovable little rascals.
ReplyDeleteBe careful Nick. Voluptua's escalating behavior makes me think of Glenn Close's character in Fatal Attraction. And a size zero?! Maybe she'd feel better if she ate something.
ReplyDeleteNicole - I know, I keep trying to tempt her with some delicious titbit but she always refuses. She usually claims she's allergic to it - that's an awful lot of allergies.
ReplyDelete