Today started like any other day... until Melissa sent word:
Like music to my ears. A sweet serenade to the tune of schadenfreude. I imagined her packing her bags, tears in her eyes and waving a sad ciao to George, then speeding away on her vespa -- after which he breathed a deep sigh of relief.
Gotta hand it to her -- two whole years. Not a bad run. But, this chippy put a nail in her coffin when she spilled it to an Italian magazine that she knew one day she'd be married. EPIC FAIL. Everyone -- and I mean EV-ER-Y-ONE knows you do NOT mention the M word around George "I Invented the Term Bachelor" Clooney. This is the kiss of death for any Clooney bedfellow. You can be sure as shit if that was me, I'd exclude all M words from my vocabulary on the off chance I might accidentally slip and say the actual M word and blow it. Shit...I know a good thing when I see it. I'm no dummy.
Now, where did I leave my passport... I have a flight to book. Lake Como's lovely in summer.
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