Demi Moore is divorcing Ashton Kutcher. Her official statement on the matter, after allegations of his having affairs became public a month or so ago, is:
“It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I have decided to end my six-year marriage to Ashton. As a woman, a mother and a wife there are certain values and vows that I hold sacred, and it is in this spirit that I have chosen to move forward with my life. This is a trying time for me and my family, and so I would ask for the same compassion and privacy that you would give to anyone going through a similar situation.”
Since we weren't that tight to begin with, it shouldn't be too difficult for me to afford her the privacy she desires.
But I'm a little annoyed with Ashton. Good grief, are there ANY good guys out there?! I've always rooted for the guy. He seemed handsome and goofy and kind and secure enough that dating and marrying someone 16 years his SENIOR didn't phase him one bit (at least publicly).
Again, I know it's silly for me to care one way or the other.
Maybe it's just ridiculous for us to expect anyone to be monogamous and faithful. Maybe people should just cop to that out of the gate instead of going through the Big Show of a wedding and vows.
I, Ashton, promise to love you and cherish you always, but there's a good chance I'm going to want to have sex with strangers on occasion and I will do my best to not bring home any communicable diseases. And, oh yeah, please sign this prenup beforehand. I do.
This also reminds me a little of my sixth grade friend Carolyn and me. Carolyn was a little rough around the edges and rebelling in school, so my mother and sixth grade teacher decided to promote a friendship between Nerdy Nerderson (me) -- fresh out of parochial school -- and Carolyn, with the hopes that my Little House on the Prairie-lovin' ass would rub off on her. And as anyone else could have predicted, the opposite occurred. I was quite the elementary Rebel Without a Clue.
And so it seems with Ashton. He's been on Two and a Half Men for ten minutes and he's already showing symptoms of Charlie. By the by, Ashton -- those camera commercials with you flirting with all those chicks were only cute when you were Mr. Moore. Now they're just icky, you letch.
Sigh.
Is it SO blasted hard for people to do the right thing?
Let's ask Demi. Or perhaps her daughter, Tallulah. Or, as I like to call her, ROB LOWE IS YOUR FATHER!!!
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