By a lucky coincidence, as Jenny was flying off to an academic conference in Glasgow, my dear friend Veronica, the dazzling supermodel, was jetting in from an assignment in Dubai.I had the champagne ready as her limo purred up the road. As soon as she'd dismissed the chauffeur and rushed inside to escape the leering paparazzi, she was giving me the low-down on THAT story.
"That f***ing tabloid said I had wrinkles. What shit-faced bastards they all are" she fumed, sprawling seductively across the Cath Kidston cushions. "I don't have any wrinkles, do I, darling?"
"Of course you don't, sweetie" I lied. "Still as smooth as a baby's bottom. Don't take any notice of those vicious toerags. They're just sick with jealousy. How do you keep those fabulous looks, anyway?"
"It's meditation, Nicky. I've discovered this wonderful place, the Order of the Ninth Beatitude. It's run by this fantastic guy called Swami Kevin. He's sooo sexy, that soft, soothing voice like a mountain stream, it turns me to jelly. Anyway, he has this sensational meditation method, it really really works. Ten minutes and I'm so relaxed I'm practically floating. All the stress just melts away. And all those horrid wrinkles. They're all doing it now. Madonna, Kate, Amy, Lily. He's a miracle worker."
"Funny, I heard you'd had a bit of work done, sweetie. A smidge of botox, a discreet nip and tuck."
Veronica stiffened and ran her razor-sharp fingernails down my cheek. "Wash your mouth out, Nicky, that's a very hurtful thing to say. No way would I hand over my precious, God-given body to one of those hack-and-stitch merchants. I swear on my granny's grave, meditation is all I need. Thirty minutes in the morning, thirty minutes in the evening."
"And the odd thirty minutes in Swami Kevin's bedroom?"
"Nicky, you're so mean. His spiritual perfection excludes all forms of physical and carnal lust. He's in a state of permanent bliss that makes such things meaningless."
"Sure, and I'm a pineapple. Those boobs are as tantalising as ever, by the way."
"And your mind's as filthy as ever. Any chance of some booze?"
Pic of the new-look Veronica courtesy of Trinket Holdings
At least you won't be lonely!
ReplyDeleteEntertaining Voluptua eh? Great gag, I like this Nick- I might just have to dream up a companion for myself!
ReplyDeleteNick beware, Voluptua bewitches you ever time lol.
ReplyDeleteGrannymar - That I won't. In fact with all the paparazzi milling outside with their telescopic lenses, it's like Piccadilly Circus.
ReplyDeleteCinnamon - Vol says she'd love to pop over to Somerset when she's finished here. She's heard Glastonbury Tor is THE place to meditate.
Hulla - I know, she exploits all my hidden weaknesses, the crafty minx. I daren't tell Jenny even half of what she gets up to.
The most successful ambulatory schizophrenic I've ever met, that's you Nick!
ReplyDeleteXO
WWW
www - Schizophrenic, moi? I've been certified as completely sane by several eminent psychiatrists. Or was that my other self?
ReplyDeleteLOL- plenty of swamis there too!
ReplyDeleteCinnamon - I'll bet there are. All mates of Swami Kevin I expect. Swami Darren, Swami Eric, Swami Nathan. All busy releasing the subtle cosmic energies of their female devotees.
ReplyDeleteYou're a pinapple! Guffaw! Gimme a dose of Swami Kev .. sounds like our PM!
ReplyDeleteDelicious and hilarious. However did I miss the first go-round? You dark horse you.
ReplyDeleteLOL! Demi Moore must be going to the same Swami as Voluptua because she also swears she's had no work done.
ReplyDeleteBaino - The only dose Swami Kev would give you is a dose of the clap, I suspect.
ReplyDeleteLeah - Glad you've met my dear friend Vol at last. She's a bit of a dark horse as well - usually the only thing she meditates on is a Stella McCartney dress.
Liz - Vol's an old friend of Demi so her lips are sealed. But a tenner says she's had work done, she has that not-quite-Demi-but-someone-else look.
I turn my back for a few days and Voluptua manages to claw her way back - wrinkles and all? Shameful!
ReplyDeleteConor - I know, she just won't leave me alone. I'm some kind of father-figure. Not that I'm complaining, all that juicy inside gossip is irresistible.
ReplyDeleteThe mouse is playing when the cat is away. Why don't things like this happen to me? I meditate every day, but I am yet to come across some 'full of bliss' Swamini.
ReplyDeleteRamana - Ah, you don't have the right method. I'm sure Swami Kevin would be delighted to show you his techniques.
ReplyDeleteLaughing a lot! (I hope that's appropriate?!!)
ReplyDeleteSuburbia - Oh absolutely. I had to stifle the giggles myself when Voluptua was giving me all this blissed-out Swami bollocks.
ReplyDeleteYou are too funny, keep it up and you'll be in the running for the Red Neck Hall-of-Fame...
ReplyDeleteSee those guys believe their own stuff, too. lol
Brighid - Red Neck, huh? What are you implying? You're right, some of these phoney gurus actually believe they're the genuine article. The real gurus tend to stay out of the limelight.
ReplyDeleteHope you behaved yourself with Voluptua Nick! Thanks for your comment over at my practically defunct place. In the immortal words of Elvis, I'm not dead, I'm just lazier than ever. Well not lazier, busier, having just bought an apartment and gotten engaged :)
ReplyDeleteCaro - I'm an upstanding English gentleman, naturally I wouldn't do anything improper. Congratulations on both your purchase and your engagement. You've been very busy while my attention was elsewhere!
ReplyDeleteWell I'm back home now - but there's a lingering smell of unfamiliar perfume....
ReplyDeleteJenny - That was just the next-door neighbour popping in for a coffee. She absolutely reeks of SJP's Covet, surely you've noticed?
ReplyDeleteAll the supermodels look alike. It takes a real woman to face down wrinkles.
ReplyDeletePineapples are yummy.
Heart - They certainly look alike in terms of their flawless and wrinkle-free skin. Personally I think wrinkles are a sign of experience and wisdom and a life thoroughly lived.
ReplyDeletePineapples are extremely yummy.