I'm going to be really up front about this. When I read yesterday that Kristen Stewart had admitted to cheating on Robert Pattinson, I felt an odd emotion. What was this strange feeling that covered me like a warm blanket? It was smugness. In fact, I would go so far as to say I was pleased.
I'm not particularly proud of this reaction. In truth, I do think slightly less of myself because of it. Coming as it does after a previous bout brought on by the announcement of TomKat's divorce, the only conclusion I can draw from this is that I'm not a very nice person.
But then I also discovered yesterday that Demi Moore might be 'dating Martin Henderson'. I do like the way they've put single quotation marks around the bit about dating and Martin Henderson. I'm sure they're there to indicate that the relationship is more speculative than confirmed but it almost makes it sound as though 'dating Martin Henderson' is a euphemism. I will accept votes for which interpretation for 'dating Martin Henderson' that you think is best:
- in rehab
- feeling unwell after receiving a poisonous snog from a pop star
- having some sexy alone time
- pretending that you're cultivating a rugged quasi-beard when really you're just too lazy to shave every day
- dating someone who has a high level of resentment towards an evil family member
I have to say, I am very happy with this development. Why, I almost clapped with glee when I read the headline. As I pondered the possible plot developments for Martin and Demi's burgeoning romantic storyline - would there be an uncomfortable scruffy facial hair faceoff between Martin and Ashton? Would Bruce offer sage but sardonic advice over coffee? - I realised the key to my aforementioned smugness. I don't actually think about these people as being real. To me they're just characters in a celebrity soap opera with unusually high production values. I fully expect that an evil twin could come along and wreck everything at any moment.
But they are real people (yes, even Kim Kardashian). I know it's easy to forget this but they all poop and fart and make bad decisions and get their hearts broken just like every other human being. So maybe what we all need to do, every time we find ourselves feeling too entertained by a celebrity's life, is to simply say "I know you poop" quietly in your head. Scarlett Johansson? Poops. George Clooney? Poops. Tom, Katie, Demi, Martin...they all poop.
Because some people seem just a leeeetle bit too invested in the whole thing and I think they could stand to spend some time 'dating Martin Henderson'* if you know what I mean.
In completely unrelated news there are two things that I wanted to link to in my post today which are entertaining but don't really fit anywhere. They are:
Bumpernuts - Because everyone wants a pendulous powdercoated aluminium ball sack hanging from the rear of their car. No? Well some people do, bless 'em.
Boyfriend squirted partner with brown sauce because she refused to stop reading 50 shades of Grey - Do you have the commitment (and condiments) to save someone YOU love from a terrible book? This might be a love story for the ages. My favourite part of this story is the reason he gives for specifically using sauce as a weapon. It's almost poetical.
Māori Language Week - I don't care what anyone says, there are some te reo Māori words that everyone is interested in, namely, the dirty ones. In any foreign language dictionary these will be the words looked up first, so why should te reo Māori? (Other than the obvious lack of foreign-ness, that is.) Luckily this online Māori Dictionary provides. So knock yourselves out with penis, vagina, testicles, breasts (this is my favourite because a long "u" can be represented by a doubling of the vowel, in this case "uu" which, depending on the font, almost looks like a pair, which is a handy remembering tool if ever there was one), bum, piss and poop. And of course, sex. You're welcome.
*Use whichever version of the euphemism you like in that sentence
So what do you reckon? Do we treat celebrities like they're just characters in a expensively cast ensemble drama? Even if they do make squillions of bucks is that really fair given that they poop too?
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