Shane Warne - George's alter ego?

22 December 2010

Dear Shane Warne,

Um, look Shane, I think we need to have a wee chat. I know that in your day you were a cricketer of not inconsiderable skill. Indeed, I and Kiwis everywhere cursed your name and your wicket-taking prowess. I don't want to get carried away and say that I ever respected you exactly, after all, you are Australian, but perhaps more flattering than that, I nurtured an animosity towards you born of grudging acceptance that you were flippin' good.

But stick clothes pegs on my face and call me Godfrey, Shane, your life reads like a cautionary tale of how to make yourself look like an egg.

Like, remember that time you had to have a press conference when you were caught taking a banned substance (a diuretic if I recall) and you told everyone it was your mum's and that you were taking it because you'd got a bit chubby? That was embarrassing. And not just for you. I personally found that painful to watch. Goodness knows what your mum thought of it. If her friends are anything like mine I bet she got hassled about it for months. "Ooh, she's off to the lav again girls. Must be the DIURETICS."

And let's just talk about the text messages for a bit, shall we Shane? Shane. Mate. Enough already. I mean, I think it's totally okay to send sexy text messages to the ladyfolk if that's what you want to do. It's almost romantic. Like modern day love notes. Of course it's ever-so-slightly less romantic when the person you're sending them to isn't the person you're currently in a relationship with. Then it's just skeezy. Perhaps no one has spelt that out for you before so please allow me to perform this valuable service. Um, yeah, you're basically a dirty old man lady of negotiable affection, from what I can tell. Uh, no offence? But yeah, if you're actually cheating on someone, you might, possibly, want to keep the evidence of such to a minimum? I mean, it's not like you're new to this sort of thing. This isn't your first rodeo, is it dude?

But you should consider yourself lucky because I honestly have no idea what these women see in you. I'm going to have to assume that either a) you're spectacular in the sack (but that makes me a little bit vommy just thinking about it so let's not dwell on that) or b) you're George Clooney's alter-ego. So when George is sick of being thought of as suave, urbane and charming and just can't take his own smoothness any more, he goes into the George Clooney Batcave (it's directly under Armani HQ) where he dons a blond hairpiece and affects an Aussie twang and before you can say "holy inappropriate text messages, Batman" he's off to film a McDonald's commercial and bed a married former model/actress/professional girlfriend. Another possibility is that you have developed some sort of mesmerising mind control power that makes ladies incapable of resisting you (but not incapable of saving text messages and passing them on to the media).

Either that or women who are not me just really love men with aggressively groomed eyebrows. There's no accounting for taste, I guess.

My theory, Shane, is that you don't give a monkey's what random people like me think of you and that you will carry on displaying douchie behaviour for as long as you can. You may well be involved in another text scandal in your 80s when you're in a rest home (still with a full head of hair, yeah, yeah), but I would strongly encourage you to conduct yourself with a little more class. Really, it wouldn't hurt would it? Treat others as you would like to be treated, that kind of thing?

And while I'm making unreasonable requests, can you get them to take your McDonald's ads off the TV? Every time it's on I find myself singing your name, Sh-sh-sh-sh-shane. Damn you.

Yours sincerely,

Moata