Marriage Is A Risky Business
Tom Cruise is walking on air, Britney’s into Paris, Heather Mills is good and Charles & Camilla’s theme park…
STANDING before a scene reminiscent of the Creation, the backdrop lit as if by the glowing afterburners of a departing spacecraft, Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes stood cheek-to-cheek.
In normal circumstances the couple stand cheek-to-neck, what with Tom being two inches shorter than his 5ft 9in tall bride. But Tom was walking on air. Or was Katie kneeling?
The Express said many “experts” were “baffled” by the picture.
Was it a trick of the light, movie magic at work? Was Tom standing next to his flesh and silk bride or the marzipan figurine that sat atop his five-tier wedding cake? Beam me up, Tommy, we joked. Prepare for (platform) lift off.
But the laughter didn’t last long. This was “Cruise’s wedding STUNT”. This vision before us was no more real than Tom and Katie’s matching heights. The Sun said the couple had married the previous week. Tom’s agent Arnold Robinson told the Star that Tom and Katie had already “officialised” their marriage in Los Angeles.
This was all for show. We wanted our wedding gift returned – his ‘n’ hers adult dummies with matching pointed hat and the entire first series of Battlestar Galactica (on authentic VHS). But had we signed a prenuptial agreement to do so?
While we searched for the documentation, we learned of another Hollywood marriage: Britney Spears and Kevin Federline.
“Britney puts her kinky sex vid on the web,” threatened the Star’s front-page headline.
The move came in light of stories that K-Ferret might sell the tape to the highest bidder, earning himself as much as £120million, a rise on the £26million the Star priced the 45-minute recording at just last week.
At the current rate of inflation, Britney may care to hang onto the tape for a few weeks longer and agree to split the £5billion-plus fortune it will earn with her feckless husband.
Britney should seek advice. And who better to ask than Paris Hilton, a woman whose home sex movie earned her notoriety, fame and her own Paris Hilton Just Me perfume – sparkling top notes of used hotel laundry with an undertone of adolescent bedroom and tissues. Naturally, Britney and Paris had hooked up.
But it was not supposed to end like this? It’s all so very unpleasant. Why does anyone bother to get married any more? “Marriage?” asked Heather Mills on the Mirror’s front page. “I’d rather someone chopped off all my limbs.”
Heather had been on TV in America. Appearing on the US show Extra, Heather said: “When you’re vilified for doing nothing but falling in love with an icon – I’d rather have all my limbs cut off. That’s the God’s honest truth.”
She went on: “I’m a good mother. I’m a good person. I fell in love for the right reasons. I fell in love unconditionally.” This was Heather on the offensive, vying to rebuild her “tarnished reputation”. She fell in love for the right reasons. And, no, a right reason is not because your true love’s wealth is approaching £1bn. Truly, it is not.
Of course, not all marriages end in failure. For every Britney and Kevin, Paul and Heather, Charles and Diana, there’s a Charles and Camilla.
And we had the chance to peep within the royal sanctum. The couple’s holiday home is in Myddfai, Wales, might not be Buckingham Palace, and there is barely enough room to swing a cat, or, indeed a tampon, but you can rent it.
In “ROYALTY TOWERS”, the Sun said Charles (The Germans) and Camilla (Is a Hampster) were offering “FAWLTY Towers-style” breaks in their new farmhouse. Holidaymakers can “romp” in their bed, “use” their loo and “soak” in ye olde royale bath.
Who can fail to be excited by this rare opportunity to live like royalty? You and your significant other can be Charles and Camilla for a time. Even the local ghost, a flaxen-haired beauty abused by her husband, could pass for the late Princess Diana.
This is no simple holiday, rather the Charles & Camilla theme park.
And it is fun for all the family. See the boy smoking a spliff behind the stables. Look out as a housemate falls down the stairs. Tell the woman in your life how you’d like to live on as her tampon. Rehearse for the majesty of kingship with a colander and spatula.
The only proviso is that roles are interchanged, thereby ensuring that the role of Charles’ official “toothpaste squeezer” is distributed evenly and fairly.
And that everyone gets to sleep with everyone else…
Posted: 25th, November 2006 | In: Tabloids Comments (2) | TrackBack | Permalink
