Cheryl Cole

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So we’re here in London, and last night all eight of us (the wife, the kids, me, the wife’s step sister, the wife’s step sister’s husband, the wife’s step sister’s husband’s two kids) watched X-Factor, Britain’s hit Idol-esque talent show (which is apparently coming to the U.S. this fall).

The show has three judges: Good ol’ Simon Cowell, some old band manager—and Cheryl Cole.

As we watched the program, everyone in the room seemed to agree Cole, a 27-year-old singer of (apparently) marginal talent, is one of the most stringly beautiful people we’d ever seen. I only bring this up because, generally speaking, people don’t agree on this sort of issue. My Halle Berry is your Pam Anderson; your Tom Cruise is someone else’s Brad Pitt. We all have different tastes in physicality, based on upbringing, thought process, past love interests, etc.

Interestingly, like Berry with David Justice back in the day, Cole’s now-ex-husband, a soccer played named Ashley Cole, actually cheated on her with a bunch of women. At first glance, it’s striking—how could anyone cheat on a Cheryl Cole? But reality offers a different truth: Looks get old. Personality takes over. The same piece of delectible chocolate cake gets less delectible with each bite. In other words, there has to be more than looks.

With Cole, I’m not saying there isn’t. Or is.

OK, I’m done babbling. Here’s a fan website for the woman, no charge.  🙂

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