I’m often criticized by Heidi for not telling her everything. I’ll go and have a Diet Coke with a friend and come back to a Guantanamo-style grilling: “How’s his wife? What are the children up to? How is his brother who is dying after being bitten by a rabid yak?” I’ll look nonplussed and be forced to admit that none of these things really came up. When pushed, I struggle to remember what we talked about – just stuff … it’s what blokes do
Women, on the other hand, talk a lot about people they don’t know. There are endless discussions about whether Angelina is really happy with Brad Pitt or whether Madonna has had breast implants and had already reached third base with the baseball player Mr. Rod while still married to Guy Boring. Our house is littered with gossip magazines that are read over again and again, as though there is some hidden Da Vinci-style message within.
