Help! He needs somebody. Help! Not just anybody. HEEELLLLPPPP!

It's been quite uncomfortable reading all the lurid accusations about Sir Paul McCartney's estranged wife. When he was younger so much younger than today, he never needed anybody's help in any way. He had a solid marriage with his vegetarian shutterbug soul mate Linda. It was so sad when she died.
After all his success as a Beatle, McCartney has achieved a comfortable status as beloved grandpa of modern rock 'n' roll. But as my mother always said, women mourn and men replace. And Sir Paul did rather quickly with a woman half his age.
We cut him slack when he married Heather Mills. Who are we to judge? Besides, the poor thing lost a leg in a horrible accident and did charity work for land mines victims. That's worth some bonus points. Right?
Well as the marriage disintegrated, so did the halcyon picture of Ms. Mills' past. Since their separation, the never subtle British press has painted her as a scheming golddigger, lesbo porn queen and menage a trois-er with arms dealer Adnan Kashoggi. Can you say lurid with a capital L?
On Heather's Web site, her sister Fiona offers a she-doth-protest-too-much snippet from their dark childhood, showing how their abusive father made Heather who she is today:

{CUE: Ride of the Valkyries} "He used his young children like slaves; we began working for him from a very young age, helping him to realise his dream of staging an animated version of Richard Wagner’s “Ring Cycle”. We were frequently forced to stay awake well into the night, cutting up slides, preparing his presentations and writing correspondence for him."

Wow, that's a Dickens of an explanation... a veritable Tale of Two Heathers. Maybe if we played a few Beatles albums backwards we would understand?
heather mills paul mccartney