'Cause even a Swedish Man-whore's Got To Eat!
Reptilian Swedish Man-whore Nicklas Soderblom (Averted Gaze), that one-time oily other half of our favorite Nicolette Sheridan, has fully lived up to all that creepy promise that was evident in his raptor eyes from Day 1.
We stumbled across this curious truffle in the underbrush of Liz Smith's column today. From The NYPost:
"PERSONAL trainer Nicklas Soderblom had a nearly two-year affair with Nicollette Sheridan. The Soderblom pitch is, he got 'so caught up in her lifestyle that he lost sight of his own life.' Translation: She dumped him in 2005 for Michael Bolton, and now this guy's Nicollette-less, which means his career ain't white-hot. Angry, he thus did what you'd expect he'd do. Wrote a book about their former love life. Title: 'Not a Desperate Houseman.'"
We have had, over the years, a passing interest in the Fate of The Nicolette (tm). In fact, we once posited that in the event of a nuclear attack, it will be up to Keith Richards and Sheridan to jump-start an embattled and irradiated human civilization. So thoroughly resilient are her loins and his, of course, circulatory system. Throughout the 70s, 80s, 90s, Nico has managed, with gymnastic flair, to blast some of the more forgettable idols of American pop-culture -- the ever-greasy Baio, the ever-priapic Marcus Allen, and the thoroughly pharmacological Leif Garrett (The Corsair pours himself a glass of Grappa) -- and we wondered if her fortunes would ever rise to meet her outsize Brobdingangian ambitions in LalaLand. She seemed, at the time, relegated to play bit roles on nighttime soaps and, romantically, on the margins of Hollywood's C-List where oily athletes are on the prowl.
The pendulum swings. And after a little hit called Desperate Housevives, Sheridan, Hollywood Survivor, catapulted all the way to the upper reaches of the B-List, fer sure. How lame then that the Swedish manwhore is there ... to remind her ... of mess Nico left when she went away.
It is, to be sure, unbecoming for a manwhore to speak of the intimate details of the temporary arrangement that is any relationship with Sheridan. It goes without saying that Sheridan will dump you if something else better comes along. Even as outside observers of the shallow fabulousity that is Sheridan do we know this. And so, we imagine, did Nicklas Soderblom.
But No. From The NYPost:
"In her offer to publishers, his collaborator, entertainment reporter Bonnie Robinson, calls the story 'revealing . . . tumultuous' and says Soderblom has 'many, many insights' into the 'jealousies, fights, etc.' of the bitter rivalry that went on with 'Desperate Housewives.' She calls him 'a man who fell passionately in love with a self-centered celebrity.' He being a real proper gent calls Nicollette 'stressed out' . . . fearful of 'competition' . . . 'a middle-aged woman in Hollywood' who 'sees 'Desperate Housewives' as her last big break.' He tells how competition ate at her. How, when excluded from one group shot, 'she started crying' and said, 'They don't give a - - - - about me.' He tells all her secrets."
These are secrets? In what universe? To the gossiply-illiterate, perhaps, but these are not secrets to those of us who have followed Sheridan's career, luridly, with an odd mix of Darwinian curiosity and an abiding childhood fascination with the psychology of reptiles.
No, we still love us our Nicolette Sheridan, who is sort of a Paris Hilton without the trust fund, the stupidity or the latent racism (Exaggerated cough suggesting feigned detachment). We have said this before and we shall say it again -- loudly and tyo the Four Winds -- If there was no such thing as Nicolette, we would have to invent her.