lazybroads
Rielle Hunter, arriving for a Grand Jury appearance on Aug 6
My mother always told me no man is worth sharing. It’s true. Being the other woman is not nearly as glamorous as it sounds. You have to be all sneaky, you can’t meet each other’s friends, and you don’t have a date when it counts, because on New Years your man probably has to go to some function with his real wife. Not to mention the fact that even though you have a boyfriend you still have to take out your own trash and put together your own Ikea furniture. What’s the point?
Lately a lot of boring, older white dudes have been in the news, surprising us with the fact that there are apparently all kinds of women out there just dying to be loved up by a married, middle-aged narcissist. This is hard for us to wrap our minds around. I mean, one, you know he’s in congress or the governor or whatever, so it’s going to come out. The ending is never happy. Eventually you are going to be on the news, and no matter what you wear everyone will have already made up their minds that you are a bad lady, even if you didn’t resort to extortion. So what’s in it for you?
A recent article in the NYTimes had this enlightening tidbit of information, revealed by the former aide to John Edwards who is spilling his book-deal beans:
“In the proposal…Mr. Young says that he assisted the affair by setting up private meetings between Mr. Edwards and Ms. Hunter. He wrote that Mr. Edwards once calmed an anxious Ms. Hunter by promising her that after his wife died, he would marry her in a rooftop ceremony in New York with an appearance by the Dave Matthews Band.”
There are a number of disturbing things going on here. One, a dude is promising to marry you as soon as his wife dies of aggressive cancer. Gross. Two, he’s placating you with the DMB. Are you a freshman in college circa 1996? Why is this remotely appealing to you?
Broads, don’t be too lazy to find a single man. Do it for the long-suffering wives of these wandering louts, but moreover, do it for yourself. Even if he’s not a high-profile politician. Especially if he’s not a high-profile politician. You deserve the whole man, not some paltry fraction.
itution known as the University of California.
call with the appointment reminder, you tell them in no uncertain terms that you want your file and x-rays and all that crap because you are going to a different dentist. But then when the date on my little 70’s-relic appointment card rolls around, I find the task of looking for another dentist beyond overwhelming, something tantamount to writing a dissertation or actually paying back my student loans. Because it involves going on my insurance website and sifting through pages and pages of dentists, then calling them to ask if they are taking new patients, then getting my x-rays and everything over there from the old dentist, and then going there and being scared and wondering if they ever clean their fish tank all over again. It’s more work than one broad can be expected to handle during her precious lunch hour. I mean, my parents never had to do this kind of thing. There were two dentists in my town and all the kids went to the one who had animal posters on the ceiling and could talk like Donald Duck. End of story. I hate to complain because I know it’s a miracle that I even have dental insurance, since many people don’t, but this just increases my sense of guilt and dread because I should be more grateful for the lousy dentist. Today they made me wait again, after confirming my appointment for 30 minutes earlier than I was actually scheduled, and that has been the least of their transgressions. But dude. Dude! They are a block from my office. I know. Not a good excuse. Okay. I will break up with the dentist. I will shed this unhealthy relationship with the convenient tooth monger. But I will not commit to being honest with him. I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I will say I am moving, to another state, and I need my records, and my new dentist has animal posters on the ceiling and maybe he should try that.
