So sad to hear about the demise of Antonia Kidman's marriage. Seems that the husband broke the record on trying to survive with a Kidman woman by one year over Nicole's first husband. Nicole almost ten years, Antonia eleven. What is tragic in this new case is that there are small children involved. Of course there were in Nicole's first marriage too, but there aren't the added whispers about the parentage of her kids. You wonder what makes these gals stray? We all know the rumors about why Nicole's first marriage ended, and she did miscarry not long after that, didn't she? That's one thing her sister has over her - she can birth those babies. But I am swaying from what I wanted to write about tonight, and that is the nauseating display going on down under if you attend a Keith Urban concert.
Perhaps because he thinks this is what they want to hear. Perhaps because she was in the audience, granted a short reprieve from the drudgery of her latest future box office flop, that he had to go on and on and on and on and... well, you know. I gave up following the sideshow for the next two weeks. I don't want to risk getting diabetes or some other illness that could make me very sick. But I have to scratch my head and say what the f*ck has happened to Keith Urban? I like the bad boy, the flirt, the guy that you had a chance to have a free pass with. The fantasy about this guy was that if the opportunity arose, and you had a vagina you had a chance with the man. Now, maybe he realizes that one should not conduct oneself in this manner. You end up getting lots of tail but you aren't filling up that hole inside. But in some way I believed that guy. I liked that guy.
This man that has emerged from rehab seems shattered. He seems that his whole existence is built on pleasing a woman who is so insecure she can't please herself. The love cries from stage, the nauseating concert talk of two forty year olds at a make-out spot, a woman who giggles and coos and makes the man forget his lines and lose his professionalism is too much. I walked out on that play. And my friends, it showed me it is nothing more than a play.
Nothing more than an act. Just like “You all started drinking early today,” or that McHugh was from whatever town they were in that night. I realized that Keith is playing at life. He is trying to keep up with one of the best actresses in the world. So good at her craft because she has no soul. Keith, I think better of you. I don't believe you love her. Try jumping on a couch on “Oprah”. I hear it does wonders for your reputation.
Perhaps you are scared about the future? I think you might not understand the man you are right now. Keith, get on stage, listen to your own inner voice, find the right person to love and you will find your way. Getting yourself in deeper in a situation that few believe is real could be devastating to the future. Learn from the men that preceded you. Get away from that Kidman woman. Run and don't look back. As it is, if the show continues in the US, don't be surprised when you do hear those boos at the dedication and don't be surprised that instead of M & Ms tossed at you, you will have various tampons and pads thrown, as you are turning into the pussy only Nicole Kidman wished she had.
Tough stuff, Mr. Kidman, but I am not spending almost one hundred hard earned dollars to see you perform in order to hear you - a multimillionaire and insecure man, play your contrition act with your multimillionaire insecure wife. The sideshow is becoming a freak show and few are staying to give a damn.