By Heather O.
This totally mindless piece of entertainment news got me thinking about my life choices. And I think I’ve made some serious errors in my career track. Speech pathologist, mom extradinaire? Nah, to heck with all of that. I should have been a Bond girl.
Think about it. All you need to be a Bond girl is big hair, lots of make-up, and big boobs. Ok, in my case, I’d have to buy some boobs, but really, that’s it. No actual acting talent required. If you doubt that statement, just check out Denise Richards as Dr. Christmas in, um, that one Bond film. I actually can’t remember the name of it, but it was unspeakably bad. And if you want the ultimate embarrassing moment, try being the one who has to explain to your MIL what the line, “I thought Christmas only came once a year” actually means.
But bad, blatently sexual one-liners aside, it would be pretty cool to be a Bond girl. The perks seem endless, and, like I said, there doesn’t seem to be any actual talent required. Just hold a gun like you’ve seen thousands of other bad actors hold them, throw smoldering looks to some of the sexiest men alive, toss your big hair around a couple of times, and you’re good. Sure, sometimes you might get shot in the movie, which would mean fake blood and guck and stuff, but no girl gets shot before she gets a good smooch in with 007, and that would be worth it, hands down, especially if 007 is Pierce Brosnan. Sign me up, baby.
Plus, you could do stunts that defy all laws of physics, gravity, and common sense. And say absolutely ridiculous things. And get paid obscene amounts of money to do it. Seriously, I can’t see the down side to this.
Of course, I would be competing with some of the top babes in the business, which could be tough. They’ve probably all bought their boobs, too, so no bonus for me, there. Plus, people like Scarlett Johannson, who was rumored to be the next Bond girl, does have those fleshy lips that resemble big ‘ol slimy slugs. Me, I’m not such a fan of slug-lips, but the public seems to enjoy them, so I might lose out because of my own, normal sized lips. Curse my normal lip genes.
Oh well. Maybe it wouldn’t be so great to be a Bond Girl. Maybe I’ll settle for being Sydney Bristow instead. Of course, then you would have to have some acting talent, as well as some serious martial arts skeelz. And then I’d have to make out with Michael Vartan, who not only has undersized lips, but has an oversized nose, too. Not exactly Sean Connery, if you know what I mean.
Still, Agent Bristow gets to save the world a lot, and even does it without big boobs. Bond Girls just look cute, and/or get shot, and/or turn out to be evil villanesses who still get shot after their evil is exposed.
Hmm, choices, choices…
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