The Rest of Us Don’t Stand a Chance

Okay, I lost forty-three brain cells just doing the research for this post. Supposedly, there’s a scandal afoot in which one of the stars of the Twilight franchise cheated on the other star of the Twilight franchise, whom she’s secretly been dating. For now, we’ll ignore the rumors that he’s so far in the closet, he can see Narnia.

She allegedly cheated with the married director of her last film, thus proving that men are pigs and starlets still sleep their way to a starring role.

Here’s where I finally started caring about this whole story: the director is married to a supermodel. Oops, no wait, still don’t care. Okay, yes I do.

If he will cheat on a woman who is paid lots of money to literally stand still and look pretty, I don’t stand a chance. Yes, I realize that my husband is a lumber salesman, not a famous movie director. But I need to admit to you that no, I’m no supermodel. I barely muster the energy for makeup most days, let alone take the time and energy to resemble anything close to gorgeous.

So basically, if we are to learn anything from this tabloid tale of love gone car-crashingly wrong, it’s that there’s no point in even trying. If I were, in fact, a supermodel and my skin was literally insured against damage, and if I used $800-a-jar beauty products on my genetically-predisposed-to-stunningness face, I would still lose my husband and the father of my kids to something shinier when he got bored. Why try?

Oh yeah, I remember now. Because I didn’t pick my husband because he sparkles. (Literally, dear readers…two of the parties in this sad tale met on the set of yet a different movie where she played a brain-dead teenager who falls down a lot even though she does not have epilepsy and he played a vampire who can’t go out in the sun because it makes him glittery-looking.) Perhaps if we all agree to stop basing our relationships on how cute we’re gonna look standing next to each other at a movie premiere, they would last a little longer.

I tried to play out this whole saga by superimposing it on my own life. It didn’t go well.

ME: Honey, are you gonna cheat on me with a co-worker?

HUSBAND: (blank stare, pause in mid-chew)

ME: Okay, I realize all six of your co-workers have a combined total of nineteen teeth and they all have beer guts and they aren’t the greatest at personal hygiene…

HUSBAND: …and they’re all men.

ME: Stranger things have happened. Just answer the question, pretending that your boss hired a woman tomorrow.

HUSBAND: Does she get to have teeth?

ME: You’re stalling.

HUSBAND: You’re damn skippy I’m stalling! I can’t figure out where this one is going. I’m pleading the fifth.

ME: So you admit there’s something that you don’t want to incriminate yourself with? OMG! My marriage is falling apart!

HUSBAND: Trust me. I have you. There’s no way in hell I’m bringing another female into my life. If she was a fraction of your level of crazy, one of you would knife me in my sleep.

ME: Awwww, I love you too!

Yes, this is the scorned supermodel. I’m toast.
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13 thoughts on “The Rest of Us Don’t Stand a Chance

  1. Give your DH a 5…..it would have taken a remark like ” there is no one else in the world like you. Other women ceased to exist for me when you said I do” to earn him a 10. Of course no man I have EVER known would say anything remotely like that without a movie script in front of him. Maybe that is why celebs have such strange lives….no reality.

  2. Firstly that ‘supermodel’ looks and smells like Shrek in the morning, really everyone does, and you’d never recognize her in the street from a photo, because they mess with photos and anyway real women don’t look like that; something every teenage boy finds out when he graduates from magazines to actual ‘fumbling’ and hopefully grows up to realize that what is interesting about women isn’t how good they look, but how much fun they are to be around and how willing they are to forgive him for his innate male assholeness! That’s part one. Secondly don’t blame the ‘barbie dolls’ for being chewed by the dog. Blame the cheating on the man. There are two types of men really. Those with their brains in their heads and those who are bodies controlled by their genitals. Brain men look at the barbie doll and think do I really want to throw away my relationship on what is effectively a genital sneeze into a strange vagina? The grown up ones think ‘no, I won’t bother, all vaginas are the same really, but my wife is unique and knows that I snore and still doesn’t hate me’. The genitally controlled monkey men are told by their balls to stick their dick in as many vaginas as possible regardless of the consequences. Mr Director, who let’s face it hasn’t been in touch with reality since he made his first million and got surrounded by sycophants telling him that he wasn’t an ugly looking moronic asshole only loved because he had cash, is in the latter group, which just shows that it doesn’t take much brains to be a film director. Real people, not those living in the dream world of Hollywood, have relationships; Hollywood people live with a film between them and reality. I’m with Tom above on the celebrity life interest; the only time I give a shit about celebrities is when we’re out of toilet paper and I have to use a tabloid to wipe up. Too much detail? Yeah I thought so, I’ll get my coat….

  3. Hmmm… Your story reminded me of an old boss I had. She was telling me about when her husband proposed. Apparently, she looked at him and said “Are you sure? I’m psycho.”. He decided to go ahead with it anyway. They’ve been married for years now, but every once in a while she’ll do something that has him telling her she’s psycho. Her response is always…”I warned you!”

    As for the supermodel? Heh! Like they say, beauty is only skin deep…and doesn’t last very long. Brains and personality trump looks any day of the week.

  4. This is hysterical! You really put me in my place. Hmm,let’s see. 56, post-homeless, Parkinson’s Disease, batshit crazy, legally blind… about 3 teeth left. Did I mention my JC loves me to death? He can’t see and can’t hear; I’m aces.

    • All of those characteristics you just described STILL put you on a higher rung than a “celebrity” whose contribution to society was winning the Best Oscreen Kiss award from MTV.

  5. I don’t understand why these stupid famous people get more press for their personal blunders than their work, but I personally don’t care that Kstew cheated on Rpatz. Naturally, I think she’s stupid, cause he is a somewhat pretty boy. But it really is none of our business. That said, I definitely loved your take on it. Pretty much sums it up.

    • Thanks! I’m personally buying up every magazine I can that’s featuring the KStew scandal because maybe it will send a message that we are all so tired of and grossed out by the Kardashians.

  6. Oh I have so many things to say and so little time to say them… A. I don’t care about Kristen Stewart and Rob what’shisface. They were too young to hook up anyway. B. Fans need to realize that Kristen and Rob are not Bella and uh… what’shisface… oh yeah, sparkly vampire Edward. C. She didn’t act alone. D. Your husband better be careful! But then I am equally vengeful and my husband knows it.

  7. I do have to admit the level of ‘nuttiness’ I find here is quite endearing (in a sort of scary moth to a flame sort of way) .

    I’m just surprised hubby managed to stop chewing his food and not just choke on it when asked ‘the question’

    And as for the love life of ‘celebrities’ who gives a shit

    Xx

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