Hankies at the ready, folks. Apparently there’s a bitter divorce underway, as a beautiful Swedish countess fights for her rights to 'survive'. It’s worth the lawyers’ fees; you see, she has nothing to lose. She needs to survive. You’ve all seen Slumdog, right? You have an inlinking what mere survival entails – a scraping by, a life-and-limb risk to exist day-to-day? I told you you'd need hankies.
Thoroughly distraught at their previously arranged (some might say) bound-to-happen agreement of $US43m, the beautiful 36-year-old flame-haired Marie Douglas-David is divorcing her balding greying unremarkable-looking 67-year-old bigwig George David, but going for more, claiming that in order to ‘survive’ she needs $US100m cash and $US130,000 per month alimony top-up.
Let’s break it down. From the $US53,800 a week:
Mortgage and maintenance fees and rent for the Park Avenue penthouse, the Hamptons retreat and properties in Sweden account for $27,300 a week, according to a financial affidavit she filed with the court. And then there's travel ($8,000), clothing ($4,500), a personal assistant ($2,209), horse care ($1,570), domestic help ($1,480), entertainment and restaurants ($1,500), health and skin care ($1,000), dry cleaning ($650), flowers ($600) and a trainer ($250). (from NYMag.com)
My judgement can only based on tabloid truths. For all I know United Technologies ex-CEO George David might have been thoroughly beastly. But the grounds for divorce are based on mutual-infidelity, not abuse... And infidelity is very upsetting. But surely no amount of money can bandage the heart of a model-like stunner still under the age of 40 whose soulmate, nearing 70, goes astray... And why would he go astray? The lady’s a good looking woman ... I wonder... No, that's just not fair, I know nothing about their relationship and I am backing down. I just can't find the delete key on the keyboard.
The first thing to hit me is house maintenance. Seeing as you can’t live in all of your houses simultaneously, at $27,300 per week, surely, darlink, it would be cheaper to sell your houses – therefore making a mini-mint – and rent as you go, also therefore buying your freedom to roam, or Rome – whichever (which you obviously like to do with a weekly travel bill of $US8000). When you’re a countess one really doesn’t like to be bothered with burst pipes and leaky plumbing. And what about that costly limousine? Isn’t opulence out? And even if you can’t give up your cake like Marie Antoinette come credit crunch, surely you’d just buy one, stick a For Hire light on the top and give a few people a lift. Car-pooling is very in.
I can’t fault Marie Douglas-David on the clothes and entertainment. If I could get my mits on a few thou to splash at Nicole Fari then I would – although I might consider swapping the labels for Primark, Target or Kmart, just so as not to offend. As I said, opulence is (thankfully) so nouveau riche right now. It’s got to look poor, at least. And dining out – my idea of heaven! Although I’ve mentioned before that Mike’s a bit of a rocking Ramsay in the pinny department, getting out to eat generally means the kids aren’t in the vicinity. I don’t get to eat out often. If I didn’t have children, then cooking at home might have a certain charm, but right now, if I had the freedom, I’d nosh through $US1500 no problem. I wonder if Marie Douglas-David leaves a tip...
Probably not if she’s paying $US1000 per month for skin and hair. Who has that much hair? Marie and I, we’re the same age. Now, I don’t work very hard. Not really. Not compared to women who hold down three jobs to feed their kids or pay the leccy bills. I’m alright. But even being alright, I’m sure I don’t have as much hair as I used to. Or I do but it doesn’t do what it used to do. I blame children, of course. Natural sheen ran a mile when it saw regular over-the-shoulder winding on the agenda... So actually, I think it probably would take that much in salon fees to make me look less lavatory brush, if I actually cared. But I can’t find any details of Douglas-David having a child... So no, honey, use GHDs, some wash-in Russet-to-Go and Mr Snippy's haircuts-while-you-wait service. Better than that, cut it all off and weave your tresses into blankets for small orphans.
Look, stuff happens in marriages, and there may be a reason this Femme Fiscal wants to screw some more money out of the pre-nup. If he farted, snored and slurped soup alone I'd be rattling the cage for compensation. If evenings comprised sitting in quiet stuffy living room sipping sherry in silence, but for the ticking of an ancient clock with a tedious history, I'd be saying prenup my arse, I didn't sign up for this! But who knows. And it’s none of my business. Can’t believe I wrote this much about it in fact... That's even less tasteful than a glossy magazine's obituary issue hitting shelves while the tv-star is still conscious. So, I'm sorry. Sorry to Marie and sorry to everyone who has had to read this. But I've written too many words to scrap - time is precious.
And if Marie turns out to be more Therese than Trump, with plans to donate the additional millions to people who really can’t survive, then I’ll eat my words. At a count now of over 850 I just hope they don’t come with word rate...
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