Since A-Rod is the only human with “Call Waiting” on his busy zipper, a voice from On High whispered to Miss Lopez, “You’ve had enough with him already.”
A born slugger, he’s big with his bat – Madonna, Cameron Diaz, Kate Hudson, Demi Moore, Jennifer – Google lists 20 female home runs.
Star connections follow a pattern: Measure. Date. Hide. To deny. Then pictures with hugs closer than Biden and his earpiece. Then the children play together. Then dating talk. Engagement meeting. Live talking together. Marriage talk. But with these two becoming BS. It was, go slow … she works … the time is not right … pandemic.
I reported they would never Get married. I knew. I reported they would never get the Mets. I knew. He then said OK, he will buy another team. I reported that he would never get another team. I knew. A) He didn’t have the money. B) There was no other team for sale. C) Unloading a ball club on a previous drugee? Does not happen. Financially it has worked for a while. They bought real estate, lived in it temporarily, restored it and then sold it on. To buy such a celebrity lifestyle, buyers paid well.
A staff member labeled this lady as ‘not nice’. I really experienced that myself. Lopez only wants Lopez. Just want her picture or talk about her in a newspaper every day. Forget the dirty word retouching. But she is also not slow to lie on a sofa. Puff Daddy, Ben Affleck, Drake, A-Rod, multiple husbands. And another Boy Scout is already being prepared.
Listen, birds do it, bees do it, even trained ones do it. She was making money. He made honey. But even a Swiss watch stops. Just remember, once, long, long ago, Mrs. Adams told you all this.
Just a little bit of Kerry’d gone
Another story. Sunday’s Post quoted a writer as claiming that Andrew Cuomo’s ex-wife, Kerry Kennedy, was so ‘ridiculed, belittled and bullied’ by him that she ‘slept in a locked bathroom’.
Years ago, Governor Mario Cuomo and his wife Matilda invited me to their table to hear son Andrew speak on a particular occasion. Small table. Just the three of us at the back of a ballroom. Andrew introduced his wife Kerry and stepped aside to give her the microphone. She talked about herself, her activities, her family, her goals, her plans, her capabilities, for over 20 !!! minutes. She never stopped while the star of the night – unattended, locked out, alone, never intervened – for 20 painful minutes.
Neither Mario nor Matilda met my gaze. Neither spoke. Their faces were rigid. Staring straight ahead. Frozen with rage. Not knowing what to do or where to look I canceled their next dinner and left.
I’m asking now – is this how hurt and bullied she was? Cringe in the John? Don’t let anyone say I don’t know what I’m talking about. I still have my column reporting it.
Packed night
My fun NYC night: I’m leaving a restaurant. But not a car. When I drove my housekeeper home, the Brooklyn Bridge broke down. It’s dark, a questionable area, she’s excited, huddled in a broken down car, no food, and it’s late.
I’ll take a taxi. I have take out. The content is hot. The wet bag shredded. The containers spill. I wipe gravy from the chair, the floor, the clothes and my friend. In the fight I lose a gold earring. The soggy leftovers – soggy salad, wet pasta, warm stracciatella soup – flood my kitchen floor and me. The phone rings. The dog barks. To be told she’s safe, I run to answer. And I slide on wet bread.
I crawl to the ringing phone. It’s a friend who tells me where she is, “Just in case.” In the case of what? In her car, in the middle of the LIE, her car just stopped dead on the way to Southampton. All the way deathIn the middle of the busy weekend traffic. Running errands, a dog. She’s in a panic. Why did she call me, who knows. But police cars came. Tow trucks arrived. It ended OK. She’s safe. Just a nice weekend evening.
Only in New York, children, only in New York.