If the stories are to be believed, and I’m not sure they are, the Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie affair, which apparently started on the set of their summer movie called “Mr. and Mrs. Smith,” is in full effect. If the other rumors are to be believed, people associated with the aforementioned movie are scared that the realistic sex scenes between the two unlikely lovers will scare away Jennifer Aniston fans. Okay, besides sounding disgusting, the realistic sex scenes scare sounds like the ultimate hook to catch those who are on the fence about the movie … except, of course, Aniston fans.
If this doesn’t sound like a worse PR stunt than Disney’s “Dogs Can Do Anything” fiasco of decades ago, I don’t know what does. (For those who don’t remember, Disney was promoting “The Shaggy D.A.” with that campaign, which featured things like dogs saving drowning people and dogs maneuvering through fire. At the climax of the campaign the company was going to launch a dog, Sparkles, into space. This wasn’t exactly unheard of, as both the U.S. and Russian space programs used animals in the past. Unfortunately, Disney did this from Disneyworld and nobody cleared the flight path. As excited children and bored parents looked on, the rocket containing Sparkles took to the sky and slammed into a small two-seater plane. The looks of excitement and boredom quickly turned to terror as flaming pieces of debris sprinkled down on the rides. Okay, none of that ever happened, but it sounds kind of cool.)
Back to PR stunts, here is Brad Pitt, talented actor and seemingly nice guy. Here is Angelina Jolie, the high school skank who gave out STDs whenever she traded sex for homework … or booze. The two of them together is as skin-crawling icky as Tom Cruise and the fourteen-year-old Katie Holmes. What’s next? The corpse of Tony Randall and the Olsen Twins?
If this is real and not some publicity stunt, the disgust factor in Hollywood just went up a few notches. Jolie may be “hot,” but I could never bring myself to have sex with her no matter my level of desperation. I can’t see putting my lips or tongue anywhere near where a man named Billy Bob has placed his penis. If my wife had an affair with a man named Billy Bob and I found out about it, well I’d feel like Ned Beatty in “Deliverance.” How can Pitt do that without his stomach knotting itself around his spine? That’s a mystery, folks.
Of course, assuming the affair is real, the PR machineheads must have been sweating bullets and grinning like sharks when they heard the news. What was a simple movie nobody was really talking about became a full-blown Thing. “Mr. and Mrs. Smith” was now something to see. “See the film that broke up a marriage! Women, see Pitt’s O-face as you picture yourself beneath him! It’s that realistic!” It’s the closest thing to a wet dream these studio executives have had in years.
There’s a part of me that thinks this is as fake as most Hollywood marriages. Even if Pitt and Jolie got hitched, had five kids and died together thirty years later in a suicide pact, I still would have a hard time buying it. I’d think, “They got in over their heads and now don’t know a way out.”
And I used to respect Pitt. What was I thinking?
I know plenty of guys think Jolie is attractive, but most of these guys are overweight and their social skills border on sociopathic. The truly good-looking men in life, people like Pitt, look at Jolie as a one-night, drunken toss because all the other chicks at the bar turned out to be lesbians who wouldn’t budge. She’s the lady you use a condom with no matter what she says. You know it’s true, too, unless you’re one of those fat sociopaths.
I believe Jolie is probably a nice person. She adopts ethnic children that make her look good, and she can probably hold a pretty interesting conversation. The thing is, Ted Bundy seemed like a nice guy, too, but you wouldn’t want to sleep with him. Jolie is the Ted Bundy of female actors. She may not be killing people, but she’s fond of murdering careers.
To show you how fake I think this whole Bradlina thing is, I am writing this first draft on June 1, 2005 (with, ironically enough, Ozzy’s “Crazy Train” blasting on my Bose), and I think that by the time it sees publication the entire gig will be up and this will seem as dated as a Jar-Jar Binks hate rant.
But I have to set the record straight and make sure my voice is heard. I really don’t believe these two people are in anything even resembling love. I think they are corporate shills (which is sad), but if it is true love (which is sadder), I’ll still look at it with dubious eyes. Going from Aniston to Jolie is like going from Kidman to Holmes, only this Holmes is John and not Katie.
Mr. Pitt, what is going on? I know you’ve made some questionable movies in your time, but I always thought your heart was in the right place. Are you letting your image be used to promote a film, or are you really in love with the girl voted Most-Likely-To-Be-Killed-Hitchhiking? Was Tara Reid unavailable? Come to your senses, my friend. You’ve done better. You can do better. At the very least, get a blood test or two. Something tells me you’re going to be keeping your doctor very, very busy.
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