Wow, that’s a lot of hands.

You’re absolutely right — the media has become saturated with coverage about the Today host and his luxurious Cabo wedding.

Some of you who are particularly irritated have spent your days writing “THIS ISN’T NEWS” in the comments section of all Facebook posts regarding the wedding. The message is clear. You spoke and we listened.

Today’s column will be a Karl-free zone. Instead, we’ll focus on his ex-wife Cassandra Thorburn who seems to have a lot to say.

Ya welcome.

As Karl and his new wife said “si!’ last Sunday at the extravagant Mexican wedding, his ex-wife of 21 years decided to bust out of Sydney and escape her old life by catching a flight to Melbourne.

Flights are the perfect time to stew and take your anger out on passengers next to you who hog both arm rests. By the time Cass touched back down in Sydney, she had some things on her mind.

“I’ve done a lot of reading about narcissism,” she reportedly declared to New Idea when bailed up at the terminal by a reporter.

The statement was a clear sign of someone who has done a lot of late-night Googling. Googling for closure. Googling for proof she isn’t the crazy one. We’ve all lumbered down the maze-like streets of the search engine in our darkest hours.

“Everything he (Karl) says is about this fake person who lives in this fake castle, it’s not real,” she apparently shared. Karl currently lives in a rental in Mosman, so she’s absolutely right he doesn’t really have a castle.

Despite New Idea’s colourful and very specific quotes, Cass turned around the next day and denied everything on Studio 10.

“I did no interview with New Idea. No interview,” she insisted. Hours later, the quotes were “verified irrefutably” by The Daily Telegraph.

Cass may deny the airport rant, but it’s not the first time she has unleashed about her ex. This year she has revealed all, on the record, to The Australian Women’s Weekly and Woman’s Day.

It must be tough having a mouthy ex. I wouldn’t know because I’m usually the mouthy ex.

After a breakup, innocent strangers around the city become my therapists and I tell them all the details about how I was wronged and all his shortcomings.

“You’ll love this,” I say, tapping the wrist of a confused Woolworths checkout girl. “He didn’t even brush his teeth before bed. And he NEVER flossed.”

The beeps from the scanner break the silence. The checkout girl doesn’t speak and I take it as stoic support.

“He didn’t even use cleanser before he met me!” I yell from the back seat of Ubers at very patient drivers who immediately consider getting glass partitions installed in their Honda Jazzes.

“You know, I could probably break up him and his new boyfriend if I really wanted to,” I drawl to my boss at the work Christmas party before accidentally knocking her drink onto the concrete floor and receiving a formal warning.

An introduction to a friend-of-a-friend is an invitation to get them up to speed on things they really don’t need to know.

Cornering the new acquaintance between a barbecue and an Esky at a casual social gathering, I suddenly become one of those guest panellists on a morning show — launching very controversial opinions at frightening speed without having really given thought to where abouts I’ll land them but also not caring at all.

I confidently repeat the positive advice given by my therapist, who is — upon reflection, unusually — always on my side, probably because she’s scared that if she tells me the truth I’ll go around town bad mouthing her, too.

And I absolutely would.

GOGGLEBOX BECOMES TOO MUCH

Find something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life. What a very inaccurate adage. It’s completely false — just like the proverb, “Two wrongs don’t make a right,” which really only started being said to stop siblings from hitting each other.

But back to work. Work of any kind sucks. If there was a way not to do it we all totally would.

Apply deadlines and expectations to any activity and you’ll find yourself avoiding it. That’s why the stars of Gogglebox have walked off the job.

Well, they didn’t walk off the job exactly. They technically work from home. So they lurched off their beanbags and padded down the hallway to the kitchen.

Fan favourites Angie and Yvie have confirmed they’re following in the footsteps of Wayne and Tom by quitting the series.

They’ve all left us too soon. And they didn’t take full advantage of their powerful positions.

Gogglebox could’ve been a launching pad for worldwide stardom — just like Home And Away was for Chris Hemsworth and Heath Ledger and Neighbours was for Kylie Minogue and Margot Robbie.

The Gogglebox stars could’ve brought out their own line of recliners before branching out into stable tables. They could’ve revolutionised the celebrity-endorsed microwave meal market.

Together the cast had pulling power. Australia loves them. They should’ve banded together like the cast of Friends and Big Bang Theory and demanded $1 million an episode.

Or at the very least, free Deliveroo and a Netflix subscription.

Twitter and Facebook: @hellojamesweir

James Weir is a senior reporter at news.com.au