No Wonder Stella Was Ticked About Her Stepmother…
As it seems she…got around before she scored with Sir Paul: (link mildly NSFW)
Heather Mills was fighting to salvage her reputation yesterday after an onslaught of revelations, including sensational claims that she worked as a high-class prostitute.
The estranged wife of Sir Paul McCartney was in frantic talks with her lawyers after two former vice-girls said she was paid thousands of pounds a night for having sex with wealthy Arab businessmen.
An ex-aide to a Saudi-born arms dealer also claimed to have handed over around £6,400 in cash to Miss Mills after she took part in sex sessions with his boss.
No wonder she would fit well with a Beatle.
Now we have some psychoanalysis of Paul:
Another friend offers a revealing insight into the singer’s mindset: “Paul has always had a rather simplistic Madonna/whore view of women. In Linda he had a Madonna. In Heather he was delighted to discover he could have both prototype – a passionate campaigner and gutsy girl who was equally passionate in the bedroom.”
Such a package, however, does not make for the easiest of lives long term.
And they get in a dig at Linda. Nice touch, that.
Will you still need me,
Will you still bleed me,
When I’m 64…
People | Mr. Bingley | 
June 12, 2006 11:47 am
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You’re so gossipy. It’s disgusting.
So is he.
And so is she.
Disgusting, that is.
I believe Sir Paul is actually 63 right now, so I guess the answer to that question would be “no.”
Well, he turns 64 in a few days, so it’s close.
Oh, this will drag out and she’ll be bleeding him for quite a while, I reckon.
Someone would be filming us,
That’s why we don’t do it in the road.
You know I have the pictures,
Both moving shots and stills,
Can I make them gone forever?
Oh I can
For two hundred mill…
The best things in life are free
And when you dump a guy who’s 63
Oh Alimony
(that’s…what I want)
That’s what I want
(that’s…what I want)
That’s what I wan-han-an-han-han-han-nn-t
That’s what I want
I suppose “Money Can’t Buy Me Love” would be inappropriate. Apparently, his money could only rent it.
You didn’t run, you didn’t walk
You hopped on what you called your “best leg”
But I was blind, I didn’t see
That you wanted just a nest egg
Ooh, then you suddenly tossed me
Ooh, now I know it will cost me
Twenty million pounds of my dough
Just to Get You Outta My Life
you told me that you’d done ev’ry thing you want
and this bird can sing
but you didn’t tell me
you didn’t tell me
you said you’ve seen seven continents and my bird had flings
oh my bird had flings
my bird had…flings
When your past indiscretions
start to make the rounds
you’ll be suing publications
with my pounds
for my pounds
here come old heather she’s a
one legged flapper she’s a
bug eyed blondie she used
farrah’s curlers
she got
one foot
down below her knee
got to be good lookin’ when your man’s 63
I once had a girl
Or should I say
I once got had
She showed me her leg
This can’t be good
Her leg is wood
[middle stuff that doesn’t matter]
And when I awoke I was alone
This chick had flown
So I checked my bank
Balance looks wrong
One fourth is gone…