Dahlings...I'm Dead! (A final letter from Zsa Zsa Gabor)

Dahlings...I'm Dead! (A final letter from Zsa Zsa Gabor)

Dahlings, I don't know how to tell you this, but I have passed into the hereafter!

I mean, I was ninety-nine, but it's still a shock, is it not? (It's perfectly alright if you forgot I was still alive, you know. I won't judge you. Just donate a dollar to Greenpeace in my honor.)

I decided to send out this letter to all of you from beyond the grave, as a sort of epitaph to my life.

Celebrity is a funny thing, no? One second you're toast of the town, the next you're on the cover of The National Enquirer after slapping a cop. (In my defense, the cop goosed my rear, so don't judge me!)

Being born in Budapest, I know how lucky I have been my entire life. I was born in 1917 and, to put it in perspective, World War 1 was still raging! You are all fetuses compared to me, but I still love you, all of you!

Speaking of love, I was married nine times. Phyllis Diller once said that on my taxes, under "Occupation", I put "Bride." Funny? Yes. Funny? No. I have a big heart and needed a big man to fill it...but none of them were large enough to meet my criteria! Men have always liked me and I have always liked men. But I like a mannish man, a man who knows how to talk to and treat a woman – not just a man with muscles.*

A divorce is like taking a douche - you clean out all the gunk and trade it in for something new! Getting divorced just because you don't love a man is almost as silly as getting married just because you do.*

All of my life, I was chasing my mother's ideal - the rich man who could provide for me and to care for me as best he could. I wanted a man who's kind and understanding. Is that too much to ask of a millionaire?*

I have often been praised for my shining intellect, you know? Men used to line the streets to watched me solve arithmetic in my Armani. To a smart girl, men are no problem - they're the answer.*

People often asked me if you are supposed to give gifts back if you divorce a man. My answer is simple: I never hated a man enough to give him his diamonds back.*

Gerold Frank once said that I was "unique...a woman from the court of Louis XV who has somehow managed to live in the 20th century, undamaged by the PTA...but she also says, 'I always goof. I pay all my own bills. ... I want to choose the man. I do not permit men to choose me.' "

The last few years of my life have been filled with ill health and strife. I had time to do a lot of thinking the past five years...mostly because I was on life support, but that's beside the point.

In our lives, we are not given a clear shot. We must simply dash forward and not look back, clinging to the sense that we belong. It's a strange life I've led, but I wouldn't sell it for all the gold in the world.

My one dream of my last years was to be brought back to by beloved Budapest. I, sadly, was not able to go, but it is as if I never left. I am still, in some way, that little girl who was taught the manners of a duchess and the poise of a ballerina.

So, we come to the final farewell, and what a life it has been. I, like a firework, must fade sometime. So, I ask you all, in my absence, to live and love and always remember that your worth is tallied in more than just dollar signs.

Love always,

gabor-zsa-zsa

Zsa Zsa Gabor

zsazsa1


Author's Note:

All texts with asterisks and in italics are Zsa Zsa's actual words.


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  • Hate to tell you, but Magda ghost wrote this.

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