Mad Donna and Child
I was saddened to read of Mad
Donna’s marriage breakup; the material girl, whatever the hell that is.
It appears on her 50th birthday her husband surprised her by informing
her she looked like a granny; I would have thought a Gucci handbag would
have been more of a welcome surprise or even another Rolls Royce.
Now
Mad Donna is not exactly your shy retiring person, and this little
bundle of high octane fuelled energy was not going to take this lying down,
if you get my meaning.
It was not as if she was difficult to
live with despite the rules of the house, no TV and no newspapers. She
also banned sugar, ice cream and cakes, which of course left the adopted
Malawi child devastated. I don’t think she intentionally deprived the
children of the good things in life it was their physical well being she
was concerned about; a caring mother
If that was not enough her
husband whose name escapes me for the moment, or was it Mr Donna? told
her that she was past it. That went down like a lead balloon, no wonder
she was cross.
My newspaper did not enlarge to any degree as what
it was she was past, and I was too embarrassed to inquire of my wife
what it was she thought she may have been past. The story goes
that her husband also jibed she should give up live touring because she
looked like a granny compared to the nubile youngsters with her on
stage.
That also wasn’t a very nice thing to say to his wife on
her 50th birthday when a bunch of flowers and a kiss would have been
much more appreciated.
If that wasn’t tactless enough, as a
cruel parting comment, that assured him that any future nocturnal
adventures of a sexual nature in the marital bed from here on in were
going to be futile, accused her of having no sense of humour either,
would you believe? This man must have a death wish.
It was
reported in the newspaper that Mad donna would coat herself in a
$1000-a-jar skin cream and on top of that wore a plastic body suit to
hold back the signs of aging. Her husband would have had more fun in bed
trying to catch eels.
She owns a huge country mansion,
Ashcombe House. It sits on a large estate in Wiltshire. Now I am not a
person who envies other people successes or even admit to harbouring one
of the original seven deadly sins, but after three score years and
still counting I sometimes wonder where it was it all went horribly
wrong for me.
Perhaps I should have learnt to sing and dance properly and look raunchy, whatever the hell that is.
By
all accounts politics is not one of her strong points. When asked what
she thought of Obama she said Obama was one of the few places in Africa
she has never visited, even though she had the good fortune to
successfully shop for a disadvantaged black child in Mali or was lt
Malawi, frankly who cares, but now with this marriage breakup looming
she may be forced to give it back, if she could only find the exact
location of the town of Mali in Africa where she purchased the child
from in the first place.
These are the unspoken tragedies of high
profile marriage breakups that few of us understand or ever wish to
experience; you don’t want to go there, it’s the trade off. It’s the
ugly side of fame, success and public adoration.
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