Can't beat that. As long as Sally Heatherton exists, we bubble busters are unnecessary. She proves by her very existence everything we're trying to say.
When I first read some of her comments on the other blogs, I figured she was satire, but she was just close enough to real to wonder. She even scolded me for being cynical. I was flabbergasted.
Once I read her blog, it became obvious.
But I had the strangest reaction at first. I so wanted for her to be a real person. Some kind of cross between Gordon Gekko and Martha Stewart. The avatar of all dumb blond real estate agents. The sweet-bitch of all sweet-bitches.
I wanted her to exist, and I wanted to see her in the Thunder Dome against BilboBend. My money would be on Sally. She'd fling Bendbust against the ropes a few times, while touching up her hair and buffing her fingernails, then slam him head first into the mat. IHTBYB would scream revenge, jump into the ring, and she'd casually skewer him with one of her nails. She'd turn to me with a gleam in her eye, but I'd be backing away, shaking my head.
"I'm with you," I'd say. "I never really believed there was a bubble at all!"
I don't know how long she can keep it up. I once thought of making up a anonymous poster who was be as dumb and snobby and greedy as Sally, but realized how hard work it would be. And I never would have gone so far as to create a full blown persona, with her own blog. I think there's a book there, if she (?) can keep it up.
My best friend is convinced she's real. "I've met her....well, seen her at the club!" He wants me to pass on the following:
"Sally, I really need to meet you. You're exactly what I've been looking for! My wife is threatening to leave me unless I sell my condo development. She just doesn't understand how much money I'll make once this correction is over.
"Could we meet at Northwest Crossing? No one will see us there. (don't worry, my wife doesn't read blogs...). We could sample one of those tasty little Central Oregon wines....you know, I've looked all around here and I can't find the vineyards? Anyway, I need to see you. Please...you're just the kind of woman I've been looking for...
"After, we could go up to one of my condo's. I have one fully furnished for just such occasions."
A little pathetic, (he's pretty desperate), but I told my friend I would pass his message along.
When I first read some of her comments on the other blogs, I figured she was satire, but she was just close enough to real to wonder. She even scolded me for being cynical. I was flabbergasted.
Once I read her blog, it became obvious.
But I had the strangest reaction at first. I so wanted for her to be a real person. Some kind of cross between Gordon Gekko and Martha Stewart. The avatar of all dumb blond real estate agents. The sweet-bitch of all sweet-bitches.
I wanted her to exist, and I wanted to see her in the Thunder Dome against BilboBend. My money would be on Sally. She'd fling Bendbust against the ropes a few times, while touching up her hair and buffing her fingernails, then slam him head first into the mat. IHTBYB would scream revenge, jump into the ring, and she'd casually skewer him with one of her nails. She'd turn to me with a gleam in her eye, but I'd be backing away, shaking my head.
"I'm with you," I'd say. "I never really believed there was a bubble at all!"
I don't know how long she can keep it up. I once thought of making up a anonymous poster who was be as dumb and snobby and greedy as Sally, but realized how hard work it would be. And I never would have gone so far as to create a full blown persona, with her own blog. I think there's a book there, if she (?) can keep it up.
My best friend is convinced she's real. "I've met her....well, seen her at the club!" He wants me to pass on the following:
"Sally, I really need to meet you. You're exactly what I've been looking for! My wife is threatening to leave me unless I sell my condo development. She just doesn't understand how much money I'll make once this correction is over.
"Could we meet at Northwest Crossing? No one will see us there. (don't worry, my wife doesn't read blogs...). We could sample one of those tasty little Central Oregon wines....you know, I've looked all around here and I can't find the vineyards? Anyway, I need to see you. Please...you're just the kind of woman I've been looking for...
"After, we could go up to one of my condo's. I have one fully furnished for just such occasions."
A little pathetic, (he's pretty desperate), but I told my friend I would pass his message along.