After watching Disneys Aladdin and swooning over how tanned and glorious the star is (yes, Im well aware hes a drawing but theres no denying hes a total babe) I did what most girls do when they need a bit of love and attention... Go visit a gay boy who will shower them with compliments, drink copious amounts of wine, and try on showgirl costumes with them till the wee hours of the morning. Last night I was introduced to Arenas The Real Housewives Of Melbourne, a reality TV show about a group of cashed up socialites who are seemingly happy to expose themselves to the country as vapid idiots. There is one, Gina Liano, who actually has a brain, and a job for that matter, but the rest of them float through life living off their husbands flow. Their days are spent topping up their tandoori tan or injecting their trout pout while a hairdresser tends to their lush long, albeit fake locks. I kind of hate women like this. In a way I am jealous. I mean, who wouldnt love to swan around in fancy clothes, sipping champagne all day without having to worry about the stress of work, cash, and life? But for the most part I hate them because of their mentality. They seem to think that they are above everyone simply because they can afford to have their wrinkles ironed out. Im pretty sure you could wipe off 90% of their beauty with a wet tissue and then whats left? An ugly mole in an expensive dress. Jackie Gillies makes me want to beat her over the head with one of her husbands drumsticks. Im so disappointed in you Ben Gillies. When I was 14 I thought Silverchair were the greatest. Of course Daniel was the hot one, but you were cool, man, what have you done? Who is this foul mouthed Newcastle bogan you call your wife? If this is what rich men want it looks like Im marrying poor, or not at all if I continue to fantasise about cartoons with perfect sculpted torsos who just happen to sing beautifully and take their dates out for magic carpet rides. No guy has ever offered to show me the world like Aladdin does when he sings to Princess Jasmine. The guys I meet only ever offer to show me their penis. Anyway, getting back to last night we had a laugh, we envied the housewives bank accounts and pondered what life would be like if our faces couldnt move and we were clad in head to toe Gucci. Thank you David Camm, Melissa Dettman, and Simon. Our slumber party was just what I needed. You guys are every bit as fabulous as one of Ginas bedazzled ball gowns.
Posted on: Mon, 05 May 2014 08:06:31 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015