Welcome to Well, That Sucked, our weekly compendium of exactly what it sounds like. Thrown in this week’s garbage: Lindsay Mills, and really, the girlfriend of anyone who leaks government information and then takes off for Hong Kong for an indeterminate period of time.
Isn’t that how it goes: you meet a nice guy, you fall in love, you change your entire life for him. And then, like some asshole, he turns a bunch of National Security Agency documents over to journalists because he has some kind of moral code? MEN ARE SO SELFISH.
Poor Linsday Mills, the girlfriend of NSA-leaker Edward Snowden. Her boyfriend is responsible for the largest leak of classified documents in U.S. history, and she’s being dragged in the mud too.
Of course, she can’t just be characterized as Snowden’s girlfriend—no, that would be too simple and not nearly salacious enough. Instead, we all need to post links to her pole-dancing (to be clear, she is a dancer and not a “dancer”) and run photos of her trying to swim off of a chair. Look, I don’t know, art is weird.
The Internet also can’t help but call Mills some of the weirdest things you can call a person. The Telegraph referred to her as “a woman of fiery colour” and a “vivacious pole dancer,” The Daily Mail said she’s “an extrovert who enjoys walking about naked whenever she can,” and the Daily News referred to her both as a “bombshell” because PUNS, and a “knockout girlfriend.”
Okay, newspapers, but how hot is she? Maybe we should figure out a kind of metric to rate her hotness. Please judge her on a scale of would-bang to would-reluctantly-spoon.
That, however, is nothing compared to the utter indignity of having people rifle through your online past. All of Mills’ blog posts have taken on greater meaning since the NSA leak, picked apart and analyzed. The posts may reveal something about her emotional state right now, which is obviously fragile and devastated. They also illuminate that she is perhaps the worst writer I have ever read.
“As I type this on my tear-streaked keyboard, I’m reflecting on all the faces have graced my path. The ones I laughed with. The ones I’ve held. The one I’ve grown to love the most. And the ones I never got to bid adieu to. But sometimes life doesn’t afford proper goodbyes.”
Tear-streaked keyboard? Is Thought Catalog commissioning these? Also, don’t you know not to get your computer wet? Your boyfriend works for the NSA, I’m sure he’s told you that at least once. But, hey, if someone went through my old blogs, they’d probably find some truly embarrassing details on me. Wait, are you Googling my name? Stop that. Don’t read that. I… I didn’t write it. My name is really common.
At least her dad is taking it in stride. Jonathan Mills told reporters that his only message for Snowden is, “Just wish him good luck and he’s got my luck,” showing remarkable restraint for the father of a woman whose boyfriend just upturned cyber-politics in the U.S. and then left the continent.
Yeah, we’ve also tracked down her dad. No word from Snowden’s parents, though.
All this leering at a woman who’s merely tangential to someone of actual importance. At this point, we may know more about Mills than we do about her boyfriend—who was he again, something about phones?—because her story is automatically sexier. She clearly doesn’t have much to say about the actual NSA scandal, or where her boyfriend might be, or what this means for the future of cyber-espionage, but she does make for a better slideshow than Snowden does.
Sure, details about the actual leak are far more relevant, but have you seen his girlfriend’s butt? Check out that butt! I can’t believe this idiot gave up government secrets and also just left that butt. In Hawaii! He left that butt on a beach in Hawaii! What I wouldn’t give to be on the beach with that butt.
Some guys just don’t know what they have.
Well, That Sucked appears every Friday.