I was getting my daily balanced view of the world from the Herald Sun when fate had me stumble upon an article regarding Alex Fevola. In case you’re pretending to not know who the ‘wonderfully talented’ and peacockish Alex Fevola [pictured above with AFL footballer hubby Brendan] is, she is known for being nice enough to keep us updated around the clock as to whether the family is living in Melbourne or Queensland and whether her marriage is going along swimmingly or if it has washed up onto the rocks.

The article had a rather large announcement to make. Alex Fevola had scored the big kahuna- she was writing for the New Idea.

Not any old article mind you, this was in-depth. But surely, something this big would require many helping hands?

Well, this sounds like it could be something else, perhaps Alex would be looking at a fresh approach in covering topics?

Other events? Maybe she’d be detailing her perspective on David Hick’s imprisonment, footballer’s mysoginistic practices or the Rwandan genocide?

Ok, an article on the key spots at Spring Carnival. It was my next guess. I was hooked, so I ran down to the newsagent to get a copy of the latest New Idea, praying that Alex’s article didn’t do a dissapearing act like Kym Wilson and Toni Pearen’s column when they moved to LA seeking film careers in the 90′s.

I intensely scanned the pages but couldn’t find anything penned by Alex. I did manage to see this piece about Bob Jane where I think he was giving a tell all about never having the opportunity to play the part he was born to play – Yoda in Star Wars.

With my thirst for Alex Fevola literature not quenched I turned to everyone’s friend for trawling at night – the internet. A quick search and I was getting intimate detail after intimate detail of just what was going on with her life.

It generally ranged from, how Brendan was not acting like a child anymore:

To how she was loving her new life in Brisbane:

To her not liking her life in Brisbane and Brendan was a baby again:

gain

To Brendan being big boy once more:

The night was getting personal and I was loving every minute. It was just me, the darkeness, the internet and a shitload of Alex Fevola puff pieces. Brendan’s notoriety with members of the public that just didn’t understand him seemed to be of quite a concern to Alex and feeling closer to her, it was starting to concern me too. More so than him beating up bartenders or pissing on nightclub windows. She pleaded:

And how did she let us know that people shouldn’t single him out for attention? By writing a 1200 word  brilliantly disjointed mix of sentences brought together to create an epic article simply titled ‘Alex Fevola speaks up about her footballer husband Brendan’. Not only was it an ironically clever way to limit the attention brought on him but finally I was reading something penned by Alex.

My thirst was gone but now I had a taste and I was hungry. A greedy little piggy that needed to feed on some Fevola thoughts. I craved more, but I didn’t realise my Alex Fevola article world was about to momentarily come crashing down, after coming across this devastating quote when she was asked about her reported marriage problems:

Feeling like I knew her personally from the articles I’d already read about her private life, I knew that welling tears would mean only one thing- she was upset. This in turn made me upset. I also knew those welling tears could’ve impaired her judgement. Besides her marriage and the best spots at the races I wasn’t sure what other topics of public interest she’d need to grapple or if any person on this planet would want to read about anything else?  Google [not Bing that sucks] was the only thing that was able to save me so I searched ‘Alex Fevola talks about marriage’ and luckily there were 6,750 results. To be fair I think what she meant to say was  ‘Would you discuss your marriage in public? Unless you need to promote something’ judging by just a couple of articles I found:

It was now late in the evening and I was both physically and mentally exausted from my intimate evening. In the descriptive words of the charisma-less Andrew G from Australian Idol, I’d been on an ‘amazing journey’. An amazing jouney where the departure point was Alex Fevola’s pen and the destination was devotian to her literary and PR poweress and a dedication to her life. All that was left was for me to put the following pictures on a slide show and loop ‘Time of our lives’.

Not that new grubby teenager ringtone version by the Black Eyed Peas either, aren’t they a pack of arseholes for making that song? But that’s another article.